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diff --git a/105-h/105-h.htm b/105-h/105-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9b6392d --- /dev/null +++ b/105-h/105-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10031 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Persuasion | Project Gutenberg</title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> +<style> + + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + + +.ph2, .ph3 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } +.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; page-break-before: avoid;} + + </style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 105 ***</div> + + + + +<h1>Persuasion</h1> + +<div class="ph2">by Jane Austen</div> + +<div class="ph3">(1818)</div> + +<hr> + +<div class='chapter'><h2>Contents</h2></div> + +<table style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">CHAPTER XX.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII.</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">CHAPTER XXIV.</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<p> +Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who, for his +own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there he found +occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; there his +faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by contemplating the limited +remnant of the earliest patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from +domestic affairs changed naturally into pity and contempt as he turned over the +almost endless creations of the last century; and there, if every other leaf +were powerless, he could read his own history with an interest which never +failed. This was the page at which the favourite volume always opened: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH HALL. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter Elliot, born March 1, 1760, married, July 15, 1784, Elizabeth, +daughter of James Stevenson, Esq. of South Park, in the county of Gloucester, +by which lady (who died 1800) he has issue Elizabeth, born June 1, 1785; Anne, +born August 9, 1787; a still-born son, November 5, 1789; Mary, born November +20, 1791.” +</p> + +<p> +Precisely such had the paragraph originally stood from the printer’s +hands; but Sir Walter had improved it by adding, for the information of himself +and his family, these words, after the date of Mary’s +birth—“Married, December 16, 1810, Charles, son and heir of Charles +Musgrove, Esq. of Uppercross, in the county of Somerset,” and by +inserting most accurately the day of the month on which he had lost his wife. +</p> + +<p> +Then followed the history and rise of the ancient and respectable family, in +the usual terms; how it had been first settled in Cheshire; how mentioned in +Dugdale, serving the office of high sheriff, representing a borough in three +successive parliaments, exertions of loyalty, and dignity of baronet, in the +first year of Charles II, with all the Marys and Elizabeths they had married; +forming altogether two handsome duodecimo pages, and concluding with the arms +and motto:—“Principal seat, Kellynch Hall, in the county of +Somerset,” and Sir Walter’s handwriting again in this +finale:— +</p> + +<p> +“Heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., great grandson of the +second Sir Walter.” +</p> + +<p> +Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot’s character; +vanity of person and of situation. He had been remarkably handsome in his +youth; and, at fifty-four, was still a very fine man. Few women could think +more of their personal appearance than he did, nor could the valet of any new +made lord be more delighted with the place he held in society. He considered +the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the +Sir Walter Elliot, who united these gifts, was the constant object of his +warmest respect and devotion. +</p> + +<p> +His good looks and his rank had one fair claim on his attachment; since to them +he must have owed a wife of very superior character to any thing deserved by +his own. Lady Elliot had been an excellent woman, sensible and amiable; whose +judgement and conduct, if they might be pardoned the youthful infatuation which +made her Lady Elliot, had never required indulgence afterwards. She had +humoured, or softened, or concealed his failings, and promoted his real +respectability for seventeen years; and though not the very happiest being in +the world herself, had found enough in her duties, her friends, and her +children, to attach her to life, and make it no matter of indifference to her +when she was called on to quit them. Three girls, the two eldest sixteen +and fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother to bequeath, an awful charge +rather, to confide to the authority and guidance of a conceited, silly father. +She had, however, one very intimate friend, a sensible, deserving woman, who +had been brought, by strong attachment to herself, to settle close by her, in +the village of Kellynch; and on her kindness and advice, Lady Elliot mainly +relied for the best help and maintenance of the good principles and instruction +which she had been anxiously giving her daughters. +</p> + +<p> +This friend, and Sir Walter, did not marry, whatever might have been +anticipated on that head by their acquaintance. Thirteen years had passed away +since Lady Elliot’s death, and they were still near neighbours and +intimate friends, and one remained a widower, the other a widow. +</p> + +<p> +That Lady Russell, of steady age and character, and extremely well provided +for, should have no thought of a second marriage, needs no apology to the +public, which is rather apt to be unreasonably discontented when a woman +<i>does</i> marry again, than when she does <i>not;</i> but Sir Walter’s +continuing in singleness requires explanation. Be it known then, that Sir +Walter, like a good father, (having met with one or two private disappointments +in very unreasonable applications), prided himself on remaining single for his +dear daughters’ sake. For one daughter, his eldest, he would really have +given up any thing, which he had not been very much tempted to do. Elizabeth +had succeeded, at sixteen, to all that was possible, of her mother’s +rights and consequence; and being very handsome, and very like himself, her +influence had always been great, and they had gone on together most happily. +His two other children were of very inferior value. Mary had acquired a little +artificial importance, by becoming Mrs Charles Musgrove; but Anne, with an +elegance of mind and sweetness of character, which must have placed her high +with any people of real understanding, was nobody with either father or sister; +her word had no weight, her convenience was always to give way—she was +only Anne. +</p> + +<p> +To Lady Russell, indeed, she was a most dear and highly valued god-daughter, +favourite, and friend. Lady Russell loved them all; but it was only in Anne +that she could fancy the mother to revive again. +</p> + +<p> +A few years before, Anne Elliot had been a very pretty girl, but her bloom had +vanished early; and as even in its height, her father had found little to +admire in her, (so totally different were her delicate features and mild dark +eyes from his own), there could be nothing in them, now that she was faded and +thin, to excite his esteem. He had never indulged much hope, he had now none, +of ever reading her name in any other page of his favourite work. All equality +of alliance must rest with Elizabeth, for Mary had merely connected herself +with an old country family of respectability and large fortune, and had +therefore <i>given</i> all the honour and received none: Elizabeth would, one +day or other, marry suitably. +</p> + +<p> +It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten +years before; and, generally speaking, if there has been neither ill health nor +anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost. It was so +with Elizabeth, still the same handsome Miss Elliot that she had begun to be +thirteen years ago, and Sir Walter might be excused, therefore, in forgetting +her age, or, at least, be deemed only half a fool, for thinking himself and +Elizabeth as blooming as ever, amidst the wreck of the good looks of everybody +else; for he could plainly see how old all the rest of his family and +acquaintance were growing. Anne haggard, Mary coarse, every face in the +neighbourhood worsting, and the rapid increase of the crow’s foot about +Lady Russell’s temples had long been a distress to him. +</p> + +<p> +Elizabeth did not quite equal her father in personal contentment. Thirteen +years had seen her mistress of Kellynch Hall, presiding and directing with a +self-possession and decision which could never have given the idea of her being +younger than she was. For thirteen years had she been doing the honours, and +laying down the domestic law at home, and leading the way to the chaise and +four, and walking immediately after Lady Russell out of all the drawing-rooms +and dining-rooms in the country. Thirteen winters’ revolving frosts had +seen her opening every ball of credit which a scanty neighbourhood afforded, +and thirteen springs shewn their blossoms, as she travelled up to London with +her father, for a few weeks’ annual enjoyment of the great world. She had +the remembrance of all this, she had the consciousness of being nine-and-twenty +to give her some regrets and some apprehensions; she was fully satisfied of +being still quite as handsome as ever, but she felt her approach to the years +of danger, and would have rejoiced to be certain of being properly solicited by +baronet-blood within the next twelvemonth or two. Then might she again take up +the book of books with as much enjoyment as in her early youth, but now she +liked it not. Always to be presented with the date of her own birth and see no +marriage follow but that of a youngest sister, made the book an evil; and more +than once, when her father had left it open on the table near her, had she +closed it, with averted eyes, and pushed it away. +</p> + +<p> +She had had a disappointment, moreover, which that book, and especially the +history of her own family, must ever present the remembrance of. The heir +presumptive, the very William Walter Elliot, Esq., whose rights had been so +generously supported by her father, had disappointed her. +</p> + +<p> +She had, while a very young girl, as soon as she had known him to be, in the +event of her having no brother, the future baronet, meant to marry him, and her +father had always meant that she should. He had not been known to them as a +boy; but soon after Lady Elliot’s death, Sir Walter had sought the +acquaintance, and though his overtures had not been met with any warmth, he had +persevered in seeking it, making allowance for the modest drawing-back of +youth; and, in one of their spring excursions to London, when Elizabeth was in +her first bloom, Mr Elliot had been forced into the introduction. +</p> + +<p> +He was at that time a very young man, just engaged in the study of the law; and +Elizabeth found him extremely agreeable, and every plan in his favour was +confirmed. He was invited to Kellynch Hall; he was talked of and expected all +the rest of the year; but he never came. The following spring he was seen again +in town, found equally agreeable, again encouraged, invited, and expected, and +again he did not come; and the next tidings were that he was married. Instead +of pushing his fortune in the line marked out for the heir of the house of +Elliot, he had purchased independence by uniting himself to a rich woman of +inferior birth. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter had resented it. As the head of the house, he felt that he ought to +have been consulted, especially after taking the young man so publicly by the +hand; “For they must have been seen together,” he observed, +“once at Tattersall’s, and twice in the lobby of the House of +Commons.” His disapprobation was expressed, but apparently very little +regarded. Mr Elliot had attempted no apology, and shewn himself as unsolicitous +of being longer noticed by the family, as Sir Walter considered him unworthy of +it: all acquaintance between them had ceased. +</p> + +<p> +This very awkward history of Mr Elliot was still, after an interval of several +years, felt with anger by Elizabeth, who had liked the man for himself, and +still more for being her father’s heir, and whose strong family pride +could see only in <i>him</i> a proper match for Sir Walter Elliot’s +eldest daughter. There was not a baronet from A to Z whom her feelings could +have so willingly acknowledged as an equal. Yet so miserably had he conducted +himself, that though she was at this present time (the summer of 1814) wearing +black ribbons for his wife, she could not admit him to be worth thinking of +again. The disgrace of his first marriage might, perhaps, as there was no +reason to suppose it perpetuated by offspring, have been got over, had he not +done worse; but he had, as by the accustomary intervention of kind friends, +they had been informed, spoken most disrespectfully of them all, most +slightingly and contemptuously of the very blood he belonged to, and the +honours which were hereafter to be his own. This could not be pardoned. +</p> + +<p> +Such were Elizabeth Elliot’s sentiments and sensations; such the cares to +alloy, the agitations to vary, the sameness and the elegance, the prosperity +and the nothingness of her scene of life; such the feelings to give interest to +a long, uneventful residence in one country circle, to fill the vacancies which +there were no habits of utility abroad, no talents or accomplishments for home, +to occupy. +</p> + +<p> +But now, another occupation and solicitude of mind was beginning to be added to +these. Her father was growing distressed for money. She knew, that when he now +took up the Baronetage, it was to drive the heavy bills of his tradespeople, +and the unwelcome hints of Mr Shepherd, his agent, from his thoughts. The +Kellynch property was good, but not equal to Sir Walter’s apprehension of +the state required in its possessor. While Lady Elliot lived, there had been +method, moderation, and economy, which had just kept him within his income; but +with her had died all such right-mindedness, and from that period he had been +constantly exceeding it. It had not been possible for him to spend less; he had +done nothing but what Sir Walter Elliot was imperiously called on to do; but +blameless as he was, he was not only growing dreadfully in debt, but was +hearing of it so often, that it became vain to attempt concealing it longer, +even partially, from his daughter. He had given her some hints of it the last +spring in town; he had gone so far even as to say, “Can we retrench? Does +it occur to you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?” +and Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm, set +seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed these two +branches of economy, to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to refrain from +new furnishing the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards added the +happy thought of their taking no present down to Anne, as had been the usual +yearly custom. But these measures, however good in themselves, were +insufficient for the real extent of the evil, the whole of which Sir Walter +found himself obliged to confess to her soon afterwards. Elizabeth had nothing +to propose of deeper efficacy. She felt herself ill-used and unfortunate, as +did her father; and they were neither of them able to devise any means of +lessening their expenses without compromising their dignity, or relinquishing +their comforts in a way not to be borne. +</p> + +<p> +There was only a small part of his estate that Sir Walter could dispose of; but +had every acre been alienable, it would have made no difference. He had +condescended to mortgage as far as he had the power, but he would never +condescend to sell. No; he would never disgrace his name so far. The Kellynch +estate should be transmitted whole and entire, as he had received it. +</p> + +<p> +Their two confidential friends, Mr Shepherd, who lived in the neighbouring +market town, and Lady Russell, were called on to advise them; and both father and +daughter seemed to expect that something should be struck out by one or the +other to remove their embarrassments and reduce their expenditure, without +involving the loss of any indulgence of taste or pride. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<p> +Mr Shepherd, a civil, cautious lawyer, who, whatever might be his hold or his +views on Sir Walter, would rather have the <i>disagreeable</i> prompted by +anybody else, excused himself from offering the slightest hint, and only begged +leave to recommend an implicit reference to the excellent judgement of Lady +Russell, from whose known good sense he fully expected to have just such +resolute measures advised as he meant to see finally adopted. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell was most anxiously zealous on the subject, and gave it much +serious consideration. She was a woman rather of sound than of quick abilities, +whose difficulties in coming to any decision in this instance were great, from +the opposition of two leading principles. She was of strict integrity herself, +with a delicate sense of honour; but she was as desirous of saving Sir +Walter’s feelings, as solicitous for the credit of the family, as +aristocratic in her ideas of what was due to them, as anybody of sense and +honesty could well be. She was a benevolent, charitable, good woman, and +capable of strong attachments, most correct in her conduct, strict in her +notions of decorum, and with manners that were held a standard of +good-breeding. She had a cultivated mind, and was, generally speaking, rational +and consistent—but she had prejudices on the side of ancestry; she had a +value for rank and consequence, which blinded her a little to the faults of +those who possessed them. Herself the widow of only a knight, she gave the +dignity of a baronet all its due; and Sir Walter, independent of his claims as +an old acquaintance, an attentive neighbour, an obliging landlord, the husband +of her very dear friend, the father of Anne and her sisters, was, as being Sir +Walter, in her apprehension, entitled to a great deal of compassion and +consideration under his present difficulties. +</p> + +<p> +They must retrench; that did not admit of a doubt. But she was very anxious to +have it done with the least possible pain to him and Elizabeth. She drew up +plans of economy, she made exact calculations, and she did what nobody else +thought of doing: she consulted Anne, who never seemed considered by the others +as having any interest in the question. She consulted, and in a degree was +influenced by her in marking out the scheme of retrenchment which was at last +submitted to Sir Walter. Every emendation of Anne’s had been on the side +of honesty against importance. She wanted more vigorous measures, a more +complete reformation, a quicker release from debt, a much higher tone of +indifference for everything but justice and equity. +</p> + +<p> +“If we can persuade your father to all this,” said Lady Russell, +looking over her paper, “much may be done. If he will adopt these +regulations, in seven years he will be clear; and I hope we may be able to +convince him and Elizabeth, that Kellynch Hall has a respectability in itself +which cannot be affected by these reductions; and that the true dignity of Sir +Walter Elliot will be very far from lessened in the eyes of sensible people, by +acting like a man of principle. What will he be doing, in fact, but what very +many of our first families have done, or ought to do? There will be nothing +singular in his case; and it is singularity which often makes the worst part of +our suffering, as it always does of our conduct. I have great hope of +prevailing. We must be serious and decided; for after all, the person who has +contracted debts must pay them; and though a great deal is due to the feelings +of the gentleman, and the head of a house, like your father, there is still +more due to the character of an honest man.” +</p> + +<p> +This was the principle on which Anne wanted her father to be proceeding, his +friends to be urging him. She considered it as an act of indispensable duty to +clear away the claims of creditors with all the expedition which the most +comprehensive retrenchments could secure, and saw no dignity in anything short +of it. She wanted it to be prescribed, and felt as a duty. She rated Lady +Russell’s influence highly; and as to the severe degree of self-denial +which her own conscience prompted, she believed there might be little more +difficulty in persuading them to a complete, than to half a reformation. Her +knowledge of her father and Elizabeth inclined her to think that the sacrifice +of one pair of horses would be hardly less painful than of both, and so on, +through the whole list of Lady Russell’s too gentle reductions. +</p> + +<p> +How Anne’s more rigid requisitions might have been taken is of little +consequence. Lady Russell’s had no success at all: could not be put up +with, were not to be borne. “What! every comfort of life knocked off! +Journeys, London, servants, horses, table—contractions and restrictions +every where! To live no longer with the decencies even of a private gentleman! +No, he would sooner quit Kellynch Hall at once, than remain in it on such +disgraceful terms.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quit Kellynch Hall.” The hint was immediately taken up by Mr +Shepherd, whose interest was involved in the reality of Sir Walter’s +retrenching, and who was perfectly persuaded that nothing would be done without +a change of abode. “Since the idea had been started in the very quarter +which ought to dictate, he had no scruple,” he said, “in confessing +his judgement to be entirely on that side. It did not appear to him that Sir +Walter could materially alter his style of living in a house which had such a +character of hospitality and ancient dignity to support. In any other place Sir +Walter might judge for himself; and would be looked up to, as regulating the +modes of life in whatever way he might choose to model his household.” +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter would quit Kellynch Hall; and after a very few days more of doubt +and indecision, the great question of whither he should go was settled, and the +first outline of this important change made out. +</p> + +<p> +There had been three alternatives, London, Bath, or another house in the +country. All Anne’s wishes had been for the latter. A small house in +their own neighbourhood, where they might still have Lady Russell’s +society, still be near Mary, and still have the pleasure of sometimes seeing +the lawns and groves of Kellynch, was the object of her ambition. But the usual +fate of Anne attended her, in having something very opposite from her +inclination fixed on. She disliked Bath, and did not think it agreed with her; +and Bath was to be her home. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter had at first thought more of London; but Mr Shepherd felt that he +could not be trusted in London, and had been skilful enough to dissuade him +from it, and make Bath preferred. It was a much safer place for a gentleman in +his predicament: he might there be important at comparatively little expense. +Two material advantages of Bath over London had of course been given all their +weight: its more convenient distance from Kellynch, only fifty miles, and Lady +Russell’s spending some part of every winter there; and to the very great +satisfaction of Lady Russell, whose first views on the projected change had +been for Bath, Sir Walter and Elizabeth were induced to believe that they +should lose neither consequence nor enjoyment by settling there. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell felt obliged to oppose her dear Anne’s known wishes. It +would be too much to expect Sir Walter to descend into a small house in his own +neighbourhood. Anne herself would have found the mortifications of it more than +she foresaw, and to Sir Walter’s feelings they must have been dreadful. +And with regard to Anne’s dislike of Bath, she considered it as a +prejudice and mistake arising, first, from the circumstance of her having been +three years at school there, after her mother’s death; and secondly, from +her happening to be not in perfectly good spirits the only winter which she had +afterwards spent there with herself. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell was fond of Bath, in short, and disposed to think it must suit +them all; and as to her young friend’s health, by passing all the warm +months with her at Kellynch Lodge, every danger would be avoided; and it was in +fact, a change which must do both health and spirits good. Anne had been too +little from home, too little seen. Her spirits were not high. A larger society +would improve them. She wanted her to be more known. +</p> + +<p> +The undesirableness of any other house in the same neighbourhood for Sir Walter +was certainly much strengthened by one part, and a very material part of the +scheme, which had been happily engrafted on the beginning. He was not only to +quit his home, but to see it in the hands of others; a trial of fortitude, +which stronger heads than Sir Walter’s have found too much. Kellynch Hall +was to be let. This, however, was a profound secret, not to be breathed beyond +their own circle. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter could not have borne the degradation of being known to design +letting his house. Mr Shepherd had once mentioned the word +“advertise,” but never dared approach it again. Sir Walter spurned +the idea of its being offered in any manner; forbad the slightest hint being +dropped of his having such an intention; and it was only on the supposition of +his being spontaneously solicited by some most unexceptionable applicant, on +his own terms, and as a great favour, that he would let it at all. +</p> + +<p> +How quick come the reasons for approving what we like! Lady Russell had another +excellent one at hand, for being extremely glad that Sir Walter and his family +were to remove from the country. Elizabeth had been lately forming an intimacy, +which she wished to see interrupted. It was with the daughter of Mr Shepherd, +who had returned, after an unprosperous marriage, to her father’s house, +with the additional burden of two children. She was a clever young woman, who +understood the art of pleasing—the art of pleasing, at least, at Kellynch +Hall; and who had made herself so acceptable to Miss Elliot, as to have been +already staying there more than once, in spite of all that Lady Russell, who +thought it a friendship quite out of place, could hint of caution and reserve. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell, indeed, had scarcely any influence with Elizabeth, and seemed to +love her, rather because she would love her, than because Elizabeth deserved +it. She had never received from her more than outward attention, nothing beyond +the observances of complaisance; had never succeeded in any point which she +wanted to carry, against previous inclination. She had been repeatedly very +earnest in trying to get Anne included in the visit to London, sensibly open to +all the injustice and all the discredit of the selfish arrangements which shut +her out, and on many lesser occasions had endeavoured to give Elizabeth the +advantage of her own better judgement and experience; but always in vain: +Elizabeth would go her own way; and never had she pursued it in more decided +opposition to Lady Russell than in this selection of Mrs Clay; turning from the +society of so deserving a sister, to bestow her affection and confidence on one +who ought to have been nothing to her but the object of distant civility. +</p> + +<p> +From situation, Mrs Clay was, in Lady Russell’s estimate, a very unequal, +and in her character she believed a very dangerous companion; and a removal +that would leave Mrs Clay behind, and bring a choice of more suitable intimates +within Miss Elliot’s reach, was therefore an object of first-rate +importance. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<p> +“I must take leave to observe, Sir Walter,” said Mr Shepherd one +morning at Kellynch Hall, as he laid down the newspaper, “that the +present juncture is much in our favour. This peace will be turning all our rich +naval officers ashore. They will be all wanting a home. Could not be a better +time, Sir Walter, for having a choice of tenants, very responsible tenants. +Many a noble fortune has been made during the war. If a rich admiral were to +come in our way, Sir Walter—” +</p> + +<p> +“He would be a very lucky man, Shepherd,” replied Sir Walter; +“that’s all I have to remark. A prize indeed would Kellynch Hall be +to him; rather the greatest prize of all, let him have taken ever so many +before; hey, Shepherd?” +</p> + +<p> +Mr Shepherd laughed, as he knew he must, at this wit, and then added— +</p> + +<p> +“I presume to observe, Sir Walter, that, in the way of business, +gentlemen of the navy are well to deal with. I have had a little knowledge of +their methods of doing business; and I am free to confess that they have very +liberal notions, and are as likely to make desirable tenants as any set of +people one should meet with. Therefore, Sir Walter, what I would take leave to +suggest is, that if in consequence of any rumours getting abroad of your +intention; which must be contemplated as a possible thing, because we know how +difficult it is to keep the actions and designs of one part of the world from +the notice and curiosity of the other; consequence has its tax; I, John +Shepherd, might conceal any family-matters that I chose, for nobody would think +it worth their while to observe me; but Sir Walter Elliot has eyes upon him +which it may be very difficult to elude; and therefore, thus much I venture +upon, that it will not greatly surprise me if, with all our caution, some +rumour of the truth should get abroad; in the supposition of which, as I was +going to observe, since applications will unquestionably follow, I should think +any from our wealthy naval commanders particularly worth attending to; and beg +leave to add, that two hours will bring me over at any time, to save you the +trouble of replying.” +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter only nodded. But soon afterwards, rising and pacing the room, he +observed sarcastically— +</p> + +<p> +“There are few among the gentlemen of the navy, I imagine, who would not +be surprised to find themselves in a house of this description.” +</p> + +<p> +“They would look around them, no doubt, and bless their good +fortune,” said Mrs Clay, for Mrs Clay was present: her father had driven +her over, nothing being of so much use to Mrs Clay’s health as a drive to +Kellynch: “but I quite agree with my father in thinking a sailor might be +a very desirable tenant. I have known a good deal of the profession; and +besides their liberality, they are so neat and careful in all their ways! These +valuable pictures of yours, Sir Walter, if you chose to leave them, would be +perfectly safe. Everything in and about the house would be taken such excellent +care of! The gardens and shrubberies would be kept in almost as high order as +they are now. You need not be afraid, Miss Elliot, of your own sweet flower +gardens being neglected.” +</p> + +<p> +“As to all that,” rejoined Sir Walter coolly, “supposing I +were induced to let my house, I have by no means made up my mind as to the +privileges to be annexed to it. I am not particularly disposed to favour a +tenant. The park would be open to him of course, and few navy officers, or men +of any other description, can have had such a range; but what restrictions I +might impose on the use of the pleasure-grounds, is another thing. I am not +fond of the idea of my shrubberies being always approachable; and I should +recommend Miss Elliot to be on her guard with respect to her flower garden. I +am very little disposed to grant a tenant of Kellynch Hall any extraordinary +favour, I assure you, be he sailor or soldier.” +</p> + +<p> +After a short pause, Mr Shepherd presumed to say— +</p> + +<p> +“In all these cases, there are established usages which make everything +plain and easy between landlord and tenant. Your interest, Sir Walter, is in +pretty safe hands. Depend upon me for taking care that no tenant has more than +his just rights. I venture to hint, that Sir Walter Elliot cannot be half so +jealous for his own, as John Shepherd will be for him.” +</p> + +<p> +Here Anne spoke— +</p> + +<p> +“The navy, I think, who have done so much for us, have at least an equal +claim with any other set of men, for all the comforts and all the privileges +which any home can give. Sailors work hard enough for their comforts, we must +all allow.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very true, very true. What Miss Anne says, is very true,” was Mr +Shepherd’s rejoinder, and “Oh! certainly,” was his +daughter’s; but Sir Walter’s remark was, soon afterwards— +</p> + +<p> +“The profession has its utility, but I should be sorry to see any friend +of mine belonging to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” was the reply, and with a look of surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; it is in two points offensive to me; I have two strong grounds of +objection to it. First, as being the means of bringing persons of obscure birth +into undue distinction, and raising men to honours which their fathers and +grandfathers never dreamt of; and secondly, as it cuts up a man’s youth +and vigour most horribly; a sailor grows old sooner than any other man. I have +observed it all my life. A man is in greater danger in the navy of being +insulted by the rise of one whose father, his father might have disdained to +speak to, and of becoming prematurely an object of disgust himself, than in any +other line. One day last spring, in town, I was in company with two men, +striking instances of what I am talking of; Lord St Ives, whose father we all +know to have been a country curate, without bread to eat; I was to give place +to Lord St Ives, and a certain Admiral Baldwin, the most deplorable-looking +personage you can imagine; his face the colour of mahogany, rough and rugged to +the last degree; all lines and wrinkles, nine grey hairs of a side, and nothing +but a dab of powder at top. ‘In the name of heaven, who is that old +fellow?’ said I to a friend of mine who was standing near, (Sir Basil +Morley). ‘Old fellow!’ cried Sir Basil, ‘it is Admiral +Baldwin. What do you take his age to be?’ ‘Sixty,’ said I, +‘or perhaps sixty-two.’ ‘Forty,’ replied Sir Basil, +‘forty, and no more.’ Picture to yourselves my amazement; I shall +not easily forget Admiral Baldwin. I never saw quite so wretched an example of +what a sea-faring life can do; but to a degree, I know it is the same with them +all: they are all knocked about, and exposed to every climate, and every +weather, till they are not fit to be seen. It is a pity they are not knocked on +the head at once, before they reach Admiral Baldwin’s age.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay, Sir Walter,” cried Mrs Clay, “this is being severe +indeed. Have a little mercy on the poor men. We are not all born to be +handsome. The sea is no beautifier, certainly; sailors do grow old betimes; I +have observed it; they soon lose the look of youth. But then, is not it the +same with many other professions, perhaps most other? Soldiers, in active +service, are not at all better off: and even in the quieter professions, there +is a toil and a labour of the mind, if not of the body, which seldom leaves a +man’s looks to the natural effect of time. The lawyer plods, quite +care-worn; the physician is up at all hours, and travelling in all weather; and +even the clergyman—” she stopt a moment to consider what might do +for the clergyman;—“and even the clergyman, you know is obliged to +go into infected rooms, and expose his health and looks to all the injury of a +poisonous atmosphere. In fact, as I have long been convinced, though every +profession is necessary and honourable in its turn, it is only the lot of those +who are not obliged to follow any, who can live in a regular way, in the +country, choosing their own hours, following their own pursuits, and living on +their own property, without the torment of trying for more; it is only +<i>their</i> lot, I say, to hold the blessings of health and a good appearance +to the utmost: I know no other set of men but what lose something of their +personableness when they cease to be quite young.” +</p> + +<p> +It seemed as if Mr Shepherd, in this anxiety to bespeak Sir Walter’s good +will towards a naval officer as tenant, had been gifted with foresight; for the +very first application for the house was from an Admiral Croft, with whom he +shortly afterwards fell into company in attending the quarter sessions at +Taunton; and indeed, he had received a hint of the Admiral from a London +correspondent. By the report which he hastened over to Kellynch to make, +Admiral Croft was a native of Somersetshire, who having acquired a very +handsome fortune, was wishing to settle in his own country, and had come down +to Taunton in order to look at some advertised places in that immediate +neighbourhood, which, however, had not suited him; that accidentally +hearing—(it was just as he had foretold, Mr Shepherd observed, Sir +Walter’s concerns could not be kept a secret,)—accidentally hearing +of the possibility of Kellynch Hall being to let, and understanding his (Mr +Shepherd’s) connection with the owner, he had introduced himself to him +in order to make particular inquiries, and had, in the course of a pretty long +conference, expressed as strong an inclination for the place as a man who knew +it only by description could feel; and given Mr Shepherd, in his explicit +account of himself, every proof of his being a most responsible, eligible +tenant. +</p> + +<p> +“And who is Admiral Croft?” was Sir Walter’s cold suspicious +inquiry. +</p> + +<p> +Mr Shepherd answered for his being of a gentleman’s family, and mentioned +a place; and Anne, after the little pause which followed, added— +</p> + +<p> +“He is a rear admiral of the white. He was in the Trafalgar action, and +has been in the East Indies since; he was stationed there, I believe, several +years.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I take it for granted,” observed Sir Walter, “that his +face is about as orange as the cuffs and capes of my livery.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr Shepherd hastened to assure him, that Admiral Croft was a very hale, hearty, +well-looking man, a little weather-beaten, to be sure, but not much, and quite +the gentleman in all his notions and behaviour; not likely to make the smallest +difficulty about terms, only wanted a comfortable home, and to get into it as +soon as possible; knew he must pay for his convenience; knew what rent a +ready-furnished house of that consequence might fetch; should not have been +surprised if Sir Walter had asked more; had inquired about the manor; would be +glad of the deputation, certainly, but made no great point of it; said he +sometimes took out a gun, but never killed; quite the gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +Mr Shepherd was eloquent on the subject; pointing out all the circumstances of +the Admiral’s family, which made him peculiarly desirable as a tenant. He +was a married man, and without children; the very state to be wished for. A +house was never taken good care of, Mr Shepherd observed, without a lady: he +did not know, whether furniture might not be in danger of suffering as much +where there was no lady, as where there were many children. A lady, without a +family, was the very best preserver of furniture in the world. He had seen Mrs +Croft, too; she was at Taunton with the admiral, and had been present almost +all the time they were talking the matter over. +</p> + +<p> +“And a very well-spoken, genteel, shrewd lady, she seemed to be,” +continued he; “asked more questions about the house, and terms, and +taxes, than the Admiral himself, and seemed more conversant with business; and +moreover, Sir Walter, I found she was not quite unconnected in this country, +any more than her husband; that is to say, she is sister to a gentleman who did +live amongst us once; she told me so herself: sister to the gentleman who lived +a few years back at Monkford. Bless me! what was his name? At this moment I +cannot recollect his name, though I have heard it so lately. Penelope, my dear, +can you help me to the name of the gentleman who lived at Monkford: Mrs +Croft’s brother?” +</p> + +<p> +But Mrs Clay was talking so eagerly with Miss Elliot, that she did not hear the +appeal. +</p> + +<p> +“I have no conception whom you can mean, Shepherd; I remember no +gentleman resident at Monkford since the time of old Governor Trent.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bless me! how very odd! I shall forget my own name soon, I suppose. A +name that I am so very well acquainted with; knew the gentleman so well by +sight; seen him a hundred times; came to consult me once, I remember, about a +trespass of one of his neighbours; farmer’s man breaking into his +orchard; wall torn down; apples stolen; caught in the fact; and afterwards, +contrary to my judgement, submitted to an amicable compromise. Very odd +indeed!” +</p> + +<p> +After waiting another moment— +</p> + +<p> +“You mean Mr Wentworth, I suppose?” said Anne. +</p> + +<p> +Mr Shepherd was all gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +“Wentworth was the very name! Mr Wentworth was the very man. He had the +curacy of Monkford, you know, Sir Walter, some time back, for two or three +years. Came there about the year —5, I take it. You remember him, I am +sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wentworth? Oh! ay, Mr Wentworth, the curate of Monkford. You +misled me by the term <i>gentleman</i>. I thought you were speaking of some man +of property: Mr Wentworth was nobody, I remember; quite unconnected; nothing to +do with the Strafford family. One wonders how the names of many of our nobility +become so common.” +</p> + +<p> +As Mr Shepherd perceived that this connexion of the Crofts did them no service +with Sir Walter, he mentioned it no more; returning, with all his zeal, to +dwell on the circumstances more indisputably in their favour; their age, and +number, and fortune; the high idea they had formed of Kellynch Hall, and +extreme solicitude for the advantage of renting it; making it appear as if they +ranked nothing beyond the happiness of being the tenants of Sir Walter Elliot: +an extraordinary taste, certainly, could they have been supposed in the secret +of Sir Walter’s estimate of the dues of a tenant. +</p> + +<p> +It succeeded, however; and though Sir Walter must ever look with an evil eye on +anyone intending to inhabit that house, and think them infinitely too well off +in being permitted to rent it on the highest terms, he was talked into allowing +Mr Shepherd to proceed in the treaty, and authorising him to wait on Admiral +Croft, who still remained at Taunton, and fix a day for the house being seen. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter was not very wise; but still he had experience enough of the world +to feel, that a more unobjectionable tenant, in all essentials, than Admiral +Croft bid fair to be, could hardly offer. So far went his understanding; and +his vanity supplied a little additional soothing, in the Admiral’s +situation in life, which was just high enough, and not too high. “I have +let my house to Admiral Croft,” would sound extremely well; very much +better than to any mere <i>Mr.</i>——; a <i>Mr.</i> (save, perhaps, +some half dozen in the nation,) always needs a note of explanation. An admiral +speaks his own consequence, and, at the same time, can never make a baronet +look small. In all their dealings and intercourse, Sir Walter Elliot must ever +have the precedence. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing could be done without a reference to Elizabeth: but her inclination was +growing so strong for a removal, that she was happy to have it fixed and +expedited by a tenant at hand; and not a word to suspend decision was uttered +by her. +</p> + +<p> +Mr Shepherd was completely empowered to act; and no sooner had such an end been +reached, than Anne, who had been a most attentive listener to the whole, left +the room, to seek the comfort of cool air for her flushed cheeks; and as she +walked along a favourite grove, said, with a gentle sigh, “A few months +more, and <i>he</i>, perhaps, may be walking here.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<p> +<i>He</i> was not Mr Wentworth, the former curate of Monkford, however +suspicious appearances may be, but a Captain Frederick Wentworth, his brother, +who being made commander in consequence of the action off St Domingo, and not +immediately employed, had come into Somersetshire, in the summer of 1806; and +having no parent living, found a home for half a year at Monkford. He was, at +that time, a remarkably fine young man, with a great deal of intelligence, +spirit, and brilliancy; and Anne an extremely pretty girl, with gentleness, +modesty, taste, and feeling. Half the sum of attraction, on either side, might +have been enough, for he had nothing to do, and she had hardly anybody to love; +but the encounter of such lavish recommendations could not fail. They were +gradually acquainted, and when acquainted, rapidly and deeply in love. It would +be difficult to say which had seen highest perfection in the other, or which +had been the happiest: she, in receiving his declarations and proposals, or he +in having them accepted. +</p> + +<p> +A short period of exquisite felicity followed, and but a short one. Troubles +soon arose. Sir Walter, on being applied to, without actually withholding his +consent, or saying it should never be, gave it all the negative of great +astonishment, great coldness, great silence, and a professed resolution of +doing nothing for his daughter. He thought it a very degrading alliance; and +Lady Russell, though with more tempered and pardonable pride, received it as a +most unfortunate one. +</p> + +<p> +Anne Elliot, with all her claims of birth, beauty, and mind, to throw herself +away at nineteen; involve herself at nineteen in an engagement with a young +man, who had nothing but himself to recommend him, and no hopes of attaining +affluence, but in the chances of a most uncertain profession, and no connexions +to secure even his farther rise in the profession, would be, indeed, a throwing +away, which she grieved to think of! Anne Elliot, so young; known to so few, to +be snatched off by a stranger without alliance or fortune; or rather sunk by +him into a state of most wearing, anxious, youth-killing dependence! It must +not be, if by any fair interference of friendship, any representations from one +who had almost a mother’s love, and mother’s rights, it would be +prevented. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Wentworth had no fortune. He had been lucky in his profession; but +spending freely, what had come freely, had realized nothing. But he was +confident that he should soon be rich: full of life and ardour, he knew that he +should soon have a ship, and soon be on a station that would lead to everything +he wanted. He had always been lucky; he knew he should be so still. Such +confidence, powerful in its own warmth, and bewitching in the wit which often +expressed it, must have been enough for Anne; but Lady Russell saw it very +differently. His sanguine temper, and fearlessness of mind, operated very +differently on her. She saw in it but an aggravation of the evil. It only added +a dangerous character to himself. He was brilliant, he was headstrong. Lady +Russell had little taste for wit, and of anything approaching to imprudence a +horror. She deprecated the connexion in every light. +</p> + +<p> +Such opposition, as these feelings produced, was more than Anne could combat. +Young and gentle as she was, it might yet have been possible to withstand her +father’s ill-will, though unsoftened by one kind word or look on the part +of her sister; but Lady Russell, whom she had always loved and relied on, could +not, with such steadiness of opinion, and such tenderness of manner, be +continually advising her in vain. She was persuaded to believe the engagement a +wrong thing: indiscreet, improper, hardly capable of success, and not deserving +it. But it was not a merely selfish caution, under which she acted, in putting +an end to it. Had she not imagined herself consulting his good, even more than +her own, she could hardly have given him up. The belief of being prudent, and +self-denying, principally for <i>his</i> advantage, was her chief consolation, +under the misery of a parting, a final parting; and every consolation was +required, for she had to encounter all the additional pain of opinions, on his +side, totally unconvinced and unbending, and of his feeling himself ill used by +so forced a relinquishment. He had left the country in consequence. +</p> + +<p> +A few months had seen the beginning and the end of their acquaintance; but not +with a few months ended Anne’s share of suffering from it. Her attachment +and regrets had, for a long time, clouded every enjoyment of youth, and an +early loss of bloom and spirits had been their lasting effect. +</p> + +<p> +More than seven years were gone since this little history of sorrowful interest +had reached its close; and time had softened down much, perhaps nearly all of +peculiar attachment to him, but she had been too dependent on time alone; no +aid had been given in change of place (except in one visit to Bath soon after +the rupture), or in any novelty or enlargement of society. No one had ever come +within the Kellynch circle, who could bear a comparison with Frederick +Wentworth, as he stood in her memory. No second attachment, the only thoroughly +natural, happy, and sufficient cure, at her time of life, had been possible to +the nice tone of her mind, the fastidiousness of her taste, in the small limits +of the society around them. She had been solicited, when about two-and-twenty, +to change her name, by the young man, who not long afterwards found a more +willing mind in her younger sister; and Lady Russell had lamented her refusal; +for Charles Musgrove was the eldest son of a man, whose landed property and +general importance were second in that country, only to Sir Walter’s, and +of good character and appearance; and however Lady Russell might have asked yet +for something more, while Anne was nineteen, she would have rejoiced to see her +at twenty-two so respectably removed from the partialities and injustice of her +father’s house, and settled so permanently near herself. But in this +case, Anne had left nothing for advice to do; and though Lady Russell, as +satisfied as ever with her own discretion, never wished the past undone, she +began now to have the anxiety which borders on hopelessness for Anne’s +being tempted, by some man of talents and independence, to enter a state for +which she held her to be peculiarly fitted by her warm affections and domestic +habits. +</p> + +<p> +They knew not each other’s opinion, either its constancy or its change, +on the one leading point of Anne’s conduct, for the subject was never +alluded to; but Anne, at seven-and-twenty, thought very differently from what +she had been made to think at nineteen. She did not blame Lady Russell, she did +not blame herself for having been guided by her; but she felt that were any +young person, in similar circumstances, to apply to her for counsel, they would +never receive any of such certain immediate wretchedness, such uncertain future +good. She was persuaded that under every disadvantage of disapprobation at +home, and every anxiety attending his profession, all their probable fears, +delays, and disappointments, she should yet have been a happier woman in +maintaining the engagement, than she had been in the sacrifice of it; and this, +she fully believed, had the usual share, had even more than the usual share of +all such solicitudes and suspense been theirs, without reference to the actual +results of their case, which, as it happened, would have bestowed earlier +prosperity than could be reasonably calculated on. All his sanguine +expectations, all his confidence had been justified. His genius and ardour had +seemed to foresee and to command his prosperous path. He had, very soon after +their engagement ceased, got employ: and all that he had told her would follow, +had taken place. He had distinguished himself, and early gained the other step +in rank, and must now, by successive captures, have made a handsome fortune. +She had only navy lists and newspapers for her authority, but she could not +doubt his being rich; and, in favour of his constancy, she had no reason to +believe him married. +</p> + +<p> +How eloquent could Anne Elliot have been! how eloquent, at least, were her +wishes on the side of early warm attachment, and a cheerful confidence in +futurity, against that over-anxious caution which seems to insult exertion and +distrust Providence! She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she +learned romance as she grew older: the natural sequel of an unnatural +beginning. +</p> + +<p> +With all these circumstances, recollections and feelings, she could not hear +that Captain Wentworth’s sister was likely to live at Kellynch without a +revival of former pain; and many a stroll, and many a sigh, were necessary to +dispel the agitation of the idea. She often told herself it was folly, before +she could harden her nerves sufficiently to feel the continual discussion of +the Crofts and their business no evil. She was assisted, however, by that +perfect indifference and apparent unconsciousness, among the only three of her +own friends in the secret of the past, which seemed almost to deny any +recollection of it. She could do justice to the superiority of Lady +Russell’s motives in this, over those of her father and Elizabeth; she +could honour all the better feelings of her calmness; but the general air of +oblivion among them was highly important from whatever it sprung; and in the +event of Admiral Croft’s really taking Kellynch Hall, she rejoiced anew +over the conviction which had always been most grateful to her, of the past +being known to those three only among her connexions, by whom no syllable, she +believed, would ever be whispered, and in the trust that among his, the brother +only with whom he had been residing, had received any information of their +short-lived engagement. That brother had been long removed from the country and +being a sensible man, and, moreover, a single man at the time, she had a fond +dependence on no human creature’s having heard of it from him. +</p> + +<p> +The sister, Mrs Croft, had then been out of England, accompanying her husband +on a foreign station, and her own sister, Mary, had been at school while it all +occurred; and never admitted by the pride of some, and the delicacy of others, +to the smallest knowledge of it afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +With these supports, she hoped that the acquaintance between herself and the +Crofts, which, with Lady Russell, still resident in Kellynch, and Mary fixed +only three miles off, must be anticipated, need not involve any particular +awkwardness. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<p> +On the morning appointed for Admiral and Mrs Croft’s seeing Kellynch +Hall, Anne found it most natural to take her almost daily walk to Lady +Russell’s, and keep out of the way till all was over; when she found it +most natural to be sorry that she had missed the opportunity of seeing them. +</p> + +<p> +This meeting of the two parties proved highly satisfactory, and decided the +whole business at once. Each lady was previously well disposed for an +agreement, and saw nothing, therefore, but good manners in the other; and with +regard to the gentlemen, there was such an hearty good humour, such an open, +trusting liberality on the Admiral’s side, as could not but influence Sir +Walter, who had besides been flattered into his very best and most polished +behaviour by Mr Shepherd’s assurances of his being known, by report, to +the Admiral, as a model of good breeding. +</p> + +<p> +The house and grounds, and furniture, were approved, the Crofts were approved, +terms, time, every thing, and every body, was right; and Mr Shepherd’s +clerks were set to work, without there having been a single preliminary +difference to modify of all that “This indenture sheweth.” +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter, without hesitation, declared the Admiral to be the best-looking +sailor he had ever met with, and went so far as to say, that if his own man +might have had the arranging of his hair, he should not be ashamed of being +seen with him any where; and the Admiral, with sympathetic cordiality, observed +to his wife as they drove back through the park, “I thought we should +soon come to a deal, my dear, in spite of what they told us at Taunton. The +Baronet will never set the Thames on fire, but there seems to be no harm in +him.”—reciprocal compliments, which would have been esteemed about +equal. +</p> + +<p> +The Crofts were to have possession at Michaelmas; and as Sir Walter proposed +removing to Bath in the course of the preceding month, there was no time to be +lost in making every dependent arrangement. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell, convinced that Anne would not be allowed to be of any use, or any +importance, in the choice of the house which they were going to secure, was +very unwilling to have her hurried away so soon, and wanted to make it possible +for her to stay behind till she might convey her to Bath herself after +Christmas; but having engagements of her own which must take her from Kellynch +for several weeks, she was unable to give the full invitation she wished, and +Anne though dreading the possible heats of September in all the white glare of +Bath, and grieving to forego all the influence so sweet and so sad of the +autumnal months in the country, did not think that, everything considered, she +wished to remain. It would be most right, and most wise, and, therefore must +involve least suffering to go with the others. +</p> + +<p> +Something occurred, however, to give her a different duty. Mary, often a little +unwell, and always thinking a great deal of her own complaints, and always in +the habit of claiming Anne when anything was the matter, was indisposed; and +foreseeing that she should not have a day’s health all the autumn, +entreated, or rather required her, for it was hardly entreaty, to come to +Uppercross Cottage, and bear her company as long as she should want her, +instead of going to Bath. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot possibly do without Anne,” was Mary’s reasoning; +and Elizabeth’s reply was, “Then I am sure Anne had better stay, +for nobody will want her in Bath.” +</p> + +<p> +To be claimed as a good, though in an improper style, is at least better than +being rejected as no good at all; and Anne, glad to be thought of some use, +glad to have anything marked out as a duty, and certainly not sorry to have the +scene of it in the country, and her own dear country, readily agreed to stay. +</p> + +<p> +This invitation of Mary’s removed all Lady Russell’s difficulties, +and it was consequently soon settled that Anne should not go to Bath till Lady +Russell took her, and that all the intervening time should be divided between +Uppercross Cottage and Kellynch Lodge. +</p> + +<p> +So far all was perfectly right; but Lady Russell was almost startled by the +wrong of one part of the Kellynch Hall plan, when it burst on her, which was, +Mrs Clay’s being engaged to go to Bath with Sir Walter and Elizabeth, as +a most important and valuable assistant to the latter in all the business +before her. Lady Russell was extremely sorry that such a measure should have +been resorted to at all, wondered, grieved, and feared; and the affront it +contained to Anne, in Mrs Clay’s being of so much use, while Anne could +be of none, was a very sore aggravation. +</p> + +<p> +Anne herself was become hardened to such affronts; but she felt the imprudence +of the arrangement quite as keenly as Lady Russell. With a great deal of quiet +observation, and a knowledge, which she often wished less, of her +father’s character, she was sensible that results the most serious to his +family from the intimacy were more than possible. She did not imagine that her +father had at present an idea of the kind. Mrs Clay had freckles, and a +projecting tooth, and a clumsy wrist, which he was continually making severe +remarks upon, in her absence; but she was young, and certainly altogether +well-looking, and possessed, in an acute mind and assiduous pleasing manners, +infinitely more dangerous attractions than any merely personal might have been. +Anne was so impressed by the degree of their danger, that she could not excuse +herself from trying to make it perceptible to her sister. She had little hope +of success; but Elizabeth, who in the event of such a reverse would be so much +more to be pitied than herself, should never, she thought, have reason to +reproach her for giving no warning. +</p> + +<p> +She spoke, and seemed only to offend. Elizabeth could not conceive how such an +absurd suspicion should occur to her, and indignantly answered for each +party’s perfectly knowing their situation. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs Clay,” said she, warmly, “never forgets who she is; and +as I am rather better acquainted with her sentiments than you can be, I can +assure you, that upon the subject of marriage they are particularly nice, and +that she reprobates all inequality of condition and rank more strongly than +most people. And as to my father, I really should not have thought that he, who +has kept himself single so long for our sakes, need be suspected now. If Mrs +Clay were a very beautiful woman, I grant you, it might be wrong to have her so +much with me; not that anything in the world, I am sure, would induce my father +to make a degrading match, but he might be rendered unhappy. But poor Mrs Clay +who, with all her merits, can never have been reckoned tolerably pretty, I +really think poor Mrs Clay may be staying here in perfect safety. One would +imagine you had never heard my father speak of her personal misfortunes, though +I know you must fifty times. That tooth of hers and those freckles. +Freckles do not disgust me so very much as they do him. I have known a face not +materially disfigured by a few, but he abominates them. You must have heard him +notice Mrs Clay’s freckles.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is hardly any personal defect,” replied Anne, “which +an agreeable manner might not gradually reconcile one to.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think very differently,” answered Elizabeth, shortly; “an +agreeable manner may set off handsome features, but can never alter plain ones. +However, at any rate, as I have a great deal more at stake on this point than +anybody else can have, I think it rather unnecessary in you to be advising +me.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne had done; glad that it was over, and not absolutely hopeless of doing +good. Elizabeth, though resenting the suspicion, might yet be made observant by +it. +</p> + +<p> +The last office of the four carriage-horses was to draw Sir Walter, Miss +Elliot, and Mrs Clay to Bath. The party drove off in very good spirits; Sir +Walter prepared with condescending bows for all the afflicted tenantry and +cottagers who might have had a hint to show themselves, and Anne walked up at +the same time, in a sort of desolate tranquillity, to the Lodge, where she was +to spend the first week. +</p> + +<p> +Her friend was not in better spirits than herself. Lady Russell felt this +break-up of the family exceedingly. Their respectability was as dear to her as +her own, and a daily intercourse had become precious by habit. It was painful +to look upon their deserted grounds, and still worse to anticipate the new +hands they were to fall into; and to escape the solitariness and the melancholy +of so altered a village, and be out of the way when Admiral and Mrs Croft first +arrived, she had determined to make her own absence from home begin when she +must give up Anne. Accordingly their removal was made together, and Anne was +set down at Uppercross Cottage, in the first stage of Lady Russell’s +journey. +</p> + +<p> +Uppercross was a moderate-sized village, which a few years back had been +completely in the old English style, containing only two houses superior in +appearance to those of the yeomen and labourers; the mansion of the squire, +with its high walls, great gates, and old trees, substantial and unmodernized, +and the compact, tight parsonage, enclosed in its own neat garden, with a vine +and a pear-tree trained round its casements; but upon the marriage of the young +’squire, it had received the improvement of a farm-house elevated into a +cottage, for his residence, and Uppercross Cottage, with its veranda, French +windows, and other prettiness, was quite as likely to catch the +traveller’s eye as the more consistent and considerable aspect and +premises of the Great House, about a quarter of a mile farther on. +</p> + +<p> +Here Anne had often been staying. She knew the ways of Uppercross as well as +those of Kellynch. The two families were so continually meeting, so much in the +habit of running in and out of each other’s house at all hours, that it +was rather a surprise to her to find Mary alone; but being alone, her being +unwell and out of spirits was almost a matter of course. Though better endowed +than the elder sister, Mary had not Anne’s understanding nor temper. +While well, and happy, and properly attended to, she had great good humour and +excellent spirits; but any indisposition sunk her completely. She had no +resources for solitude; and inheriting a considerable share of the Elliot +self-importance, was very prone to add to every other distress that of fancying +herself neglected and ill-used. In person, she was inferior to both sisters, +and had, even in her bloom, only reached the dignity of being “a fine +girl.” She was now lying on the faded sofa of the pretty little +drawing-room, the once elegant furniture of which had been gradually growing +shabby, under the influence of four summers and two children; and, on +Anne’s appearing, greeted her with— +</p> + +<p> +“So, you are come at last! I began to think I should never see you. I am +so ill I can hardly speak. I have not seen a creature the whole morning!” +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry to find you unwell,” replied Anne. “You sent me +such a good account of yourself on Thursday!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I made the best of it; I always do: but I was very far from well at +the time; and I do not think I ever was so ill in my life as I have been all +this morning: very unfit to be left alone, I am sure. Suppose I were to be +seized of a sudden in some dreadful way, and not able to ring the bell! So, +Lady Russell would not get out. I do not think she has been in this house three +times this summer.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne said what was proper, and enquired after her husband. “Oh! Charles +is out shooting. I have not seen him since seven o’clock. He would go, +though I told him how ill I was. He said he should not stay out long; but he +has never come back, and now it is almost one. I assure you, I have not seen a +soul this whole long morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have had your little boys with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, as long as I could bear their noise; but they are so unmanageable +that they do me more harm than good. Little Charles does not mind a word I say, +and Walter is growing quite as bad.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, you will soon be better now,” replied Anne, cheerfully. +“You know I always cure you when I come. How are your neighbours at the +Great House?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can give you no account of them. I have not seen one of them to-day, +except Mr Musgrove, who just stopped and spoke through the window, but without +getting off his horse; and though I told him how ill I was, not one of them +have been near me. It did not happen to suit the Miss Musgroves, I suppose, and +they never put themselves out of their way.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will see them yet, perhaps, before the morning is gone. It is +early.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never want them, I assure you. They talk and laugh a great deal too +much for me. Oh! Anne, I am so very unwell! It was quite unkind of you not to +come on Thursday.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Mary, recollect what a comfortable account you sent me of +yourself! You wrote in the cheerfullest manner, and said you were perfectly +well, and in no hurry for me; and that being the case, you must be aware that +my wish would be to remain with Lady Russell to the last: and besides what I +felt on her account, I have really been so busy, have had so much to do, that I +could not very conveniently have left Kellynch sooner.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dear me! what can <i>you</i> possibly have to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“A great many things, I assure you. More than I can recollect in a +moment; but I can tell you some. I have been making a duplicate of the +catalogue of my father’s books and pictures. I have been several times in +the garden with Mackenzie, trying to understand, and make him understand, which +of Elizabeth’s plants are for Lady Russell. I have had all my own little +concerns to arrange, books and music to divide, and all my trunks to repack, +from not having understood in time what was intended as to the waggons: and one +thing I have had to do, Mary, of a more trying nature: going to almost every +house in the parish, as a sort of take-leave. I was told that they wished it. +But all these things took up a great deal of time.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! well!” and after a moment’s pause, “but you have +never asked me one word about our dinner at the Pooles yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you go then? I have made no enquiries, because I concluded you must +have been obliged to give up the party.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh yes! I went. I was very well yesterday; nothing at all the matter +with me till this morning. It would have been strange if I had not gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very glad you were well enough, and I hope you had a pleasant +party.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing remarkable. One always knows beforehand what the dinner will be, +and who will be there; and it is so very uncomfortable not having a carriage of +one’s own. Mr and Mrs Musgrove took me, and we were so crowded! They are +both so very large, and take up so much room; and Mr Musgrove always sits +forward. So, there was I, crowded into the back seat with Henrietta and Louisa; +and I think it very likely that my illness to-day may be owing to it.” +</p> + +<p> +A little further perseverance in patience and forced cheerfulness on +Anne’s side produced nearly a cure on Mary’s. She could soon sit +upright on the sofa, and began to hope she might be able to leave it by +dinner-time. Then, forgetting to think of it, she was at the other end of the +room, beautifying a nosegay; then, she ate her cold meat; and then she was well +enough to propose a little walk. +</p> + +<p> +“Where shall we go?” said she, when they were ready. “I +suppose you will not like to call at the Great House before they have been to +see you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have not the smallest objection on that account,” replied Anne. +“I should never think of standing on such ceremony with people I know so +well as Mrs and the Miss Musgroves.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! but they ought to call upon you as soon as possible. They ought to +feel what is due to you as <i>my</i> sister. However, we may as well go and sit +with them a little while, and when we have that over, we can enjoy our +walk.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne had always thought such a style of intercourse highly imprudent; but she +had ceased to endeavour to check it, from believing that, though there were on +each side continual subjects of offence, neither family could now do without +it. To the Great House accordingly they went, to sit the full half hour in the +old-fashioned square parlour, with a small carpet and shining floor, to which +the present daughters of the house were gradually giving the proper air of +confusion by a grand piano-forte and a harp, flower-stands and little tables +placed in every direction. Oh! could the originals of the portraits against the +wainscot, could the gentlemen in brown velvet and the ladies in blue satin have +seen what was going on, have been conscious of such an overthrow of all order +and neatness! The portraits themselves seemed to be staring in astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +The Musgroves, like their houses, were in a state of alteration, perhaps of +improvement. The father and mother were in the old English style, and the young +people in the new. Mr and Mrs Musgrove were a very good sort of people; +friendly and hospitable, not much educated, and not at all elegant. Their +children had more modern minds and manners. There was a numerous family; but +the only two grown up, excepting Charles, were Henrietta and Louisa, young +ladies of nineteen and twenty, who had brought from school at Exeter all the +usual stock of accomplishments, and were now like thousands of other young +ladies, living to be fashionable, happy, and merry. Their dress had every +advantage, their faces were rather pretty, their spirits extremely good, their +manner unembarrassed and pleasant; they were of consequence at home, and +favourites abroad. Anne always contemplated them as some of the happiest +creatures of her acquaintance; but still, saved as we all are, by some +comfortable feeling of superiority from wishing for the possibility of +exchange, she would not have given up her own more elegant and cultivated mind +for all their enjoyments; and envied them nothing but that seemingly perfect +good understanding and agreement together, that good-humoured mutual affection, +of which she had known so little herself with either of her sisters. +</p> + +<p> +They were received with great cordiality. Nothing seemed amiss on the side of +the Great House family, which was generally, as Anne very well knew, the least +to blame. The half hour was chatted away pleasantly enough; and she was not at +all surprised, at the end of it, to have their walking party joined by both the +Miss Musgroves, at Mary’s particular invitation. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<p> +Anne had not wanted this visit to Uppercross, to learn that a removal from one +set of people to another, though at a distance of only three miles, will often +include a total change of conversation, opinion, and idea. She had never been +staying there before, without being struck by it, or without wishing that other +Elliots could have her advantage in seeing how unknown, or unconsidered there, +were the affairs which at Kellynch Hall were treated as of such general +publicity and pervading interest; yet, with all this experience, she believed +she must now submit to feel that another lesson, in the art of knowing our own +nothingness beyond our own circle, was become necessary for her; for certainly, +coming as she did, with a heart full of the subject which had been completely +occupying both houses in Kellynch for many weeks, she had expected rather more +curiosity and sympathy than she found in the separate but very similar remark +of Mr and Mrs Musgrove: “So, Miss Anne, Sir Walter and your sister are +gone; and what part of Bath do you think they will settle in?” and this, +without much waiting for an answer; or in the young ladies’ addition of, +“I hope <i>we</i> shall be in Bath in the winter; but remember, papa, if +we do go, we must be in a good situation: none of your Queen Squares for +us!” or in the anxious supplement from Mary, of—“Upon my +word, I shall be pretty well off, when you are all gone away to be happy at +Bath!” +</p> + +<p> +She could only resolve to avoid such self-delusion in future, and think with +heightened gratitude of the extraordinary blessing of having one such truly +sympathising friend as Lady Russell. +</p> + +<p> +The Mr Musgroves had their own game to guard, and to destroy, their own horses, +dogs, and newspapers to engage them, and the females were fully occupied in all +the other common subjects of housekeeping, neighbours, dress, dancing, and +music. She acknowledged it to be very fitting, that every little social +commonwealth should dictate its own matters of discourse; and hoped, ere long, +to become a not unworthy member of the one she was now transplanted into. With +the prospect of spending at least two months at Uppercross, it was highly +incumbent on her to clothe her imagination, her memory, and all her ideas in as +much of Uppercross as possible. +</p> + +<p> +She had no dread of these two months. Mary was not so repulsive and unsisterly +as Elizabeth, nor so inaccessible to all influence of hers; neither was there +anything among the other component parts of the cottage inimical to comfort. +She was always on friendly terms with her brother-in-law; and in the children, +who loved her nearly as well, and respected her a great deal more than their +mother, she had an object of interest, amusement, and wholesome exertion. +</p> + +<p> +Charles Musgrove was civil and agreeable; in sense and temper he was +undoubtedly superior to his wife, but not of powers, or conversation, or grace, +to make the past, as they were connected together, at all a dangerous +contemplation; though, at the same time, Anne could believe, with Lady Russell, +that a more equal match might have greatly improved him; and that a woman of +real understanding might have given more consequence to his character, and more +usefulness, rationality, and elegance to his habits and pursuits. As it was, he +did nothing with much zeal, but sport; and his time was otherwise trifled away, +without benefit from books or anything else. He had very good spirits, which +never seemed much affected by his wife’s occasional lowness, bore with +her unreasonableness sometimes to Anne’s admiration, and upon the whole, +though there was very often a little disagreement (in which she had sometimes +more share than she wished, being appealed to by both parties), they might pass +for a happy couple. They were always perfectly agreed in the want of more +money, and a strong inclination for a handsome present from his father; but +here, as on most topics, he had the superiority, for while Mary thought it a +great shame that such a present was not made, he always contended for his +father’s having many other uses for his money, and a right to spend it as +he liked. +</p> + +<p> +As to the management of their children, his theory was much better than his +wife’s, and his practice not so bad. “I could manage them very +well, if it were not for Mary’s interference,” was what Anne often +heard him say, and had a good deal of faith in; but when listening in turn to +Mary’s reproach of “Charles spoils the children so that I cannot +get them into any order,” she never had the smallest temptation to say, +“Very true.” +</p> + +<p> +One of the least agreeable circumstances of her residence there was her being +treated with too much confidence by all parties, and being too much in the +secret of the complaints of each house. Known to have some influence with her +sister, she was continually requested, or at least receiving hints to exert it, +beyond what was practicable. “I wish you could persuade Mary not to be +always fancying herself ill,” was Charles’s language; and, in an +unhappy mood, thus spoke Mary: “I do believe if Charles were to see me +dying, he would not think there was anything the matter with me. I am sure, +Anne, if you would, you might persuade him that I really am very ill—a +great deal worse than I ever own.” +</p> + +<p> +Mary’s declaration was, “I hate sending the children to the Great +House, though their grandmamma is always wanting to see them, for she humours +and indulges them to such a degree, and gives them so much trash and sweet +things, that they are sure to come back sick and cross for the rest of the +day.” And Mrs Musgrove took the first opportunity of being alone with +Anne, to say, “Oh! Miss Anne, I cannot help wishing Mrs Charles had a +little of your method with those children. They are quite different creatures +with you! But to be sure, in general they are so spoilt! It is a pity you +cannot put your sister in the way of managing them. They are as fine healthy +children as ever were seen, poor little dears! without partiality; but Mrs +Charles knows no more how they should be treated—! Bless me! how +troublesome they are sometimes. I assure you, Miss Anne, it prevents my wishing +to see them at our house so often as I otherwise should. I believe Mrs Charles +is not quite pleased with my not inviting them oftener; but you know it is very +bad to have children with one that one is obligated to be checking every +moment; “don’t do this,” and “don’t do +that;” or that one can only keep in tolerable order by more cake than is +good for them.” +</p> + +<p> +She had this communication, moreover, from Mary. “Mrs Musgrove thinks all +her servants so steady, that it would be high treason to call it in question; +but I am sure, without exaggeration, that her upper house-maid and +laundry-maid, instead of being in their business, are gadding about the +village, all day long. I meet them wherever I go; and I declare, I never go +twice into my nursery without seeing something of them. If Jemima were not the +trustiest, steadiest creature in the world, it would be enough to spoil her; +for she tells me, they are always tempting her to take a walk with them.” +And on Mrs Musgrove’s side, it was, “I make a rule of never +interfering in any of my daughter-in-law’s concerns, for I know it would +not do; but I shall tell <i>you</i>, Miss Anne, because you may be able to set +things to rights, that I have no very good opinion of Mrs Charles’s +nursery-maid: I hear strange stories of her; she is always upon the gad; and +from my own knowledge, I can declare, she is such a fine-dressing lady, that +she is enough to ruin any servants she comes near. Mrs Charles quite swears by +her, I know; but I just give you this hint, that you may be upon the watch; +because, if you see anything amiss, you need not be afraid of mentioning +it.” +</p> + +<p> +Again, it was Mary’s complaint, that Mrs Musgrove was very apt not to +give her the precedence that was her due, when they dined at the Great House +with other families; and she did not see any reason why she was to be +considered so much at home as to lose her place. And one day when Anne was +walking with only the Musgroves, one of them after talking of rank, people of +rank, and jealousy of rank, said, “I have no scruple of observing to +<i>you</i>, how nonsensical some persons are about their place, because all the +world knows how easy and indifferent you are about it; but I wish anybody could +give Mary a hint that it would be a great deal better if she were not so very +tenacious, especially if she would not be always putting herself forward to +take place of mamma. Nobody doubts her right to have precedence of mamma, but +it would be more becoming in her not to be always insisting on it. It is not +that mamma cares about it the least in the world, but I know it is taken notice +of by many persons.” +</p> + +<p> +How was Anne to set all these matters to rights? She could do little more than +listen patiently, soften every grievance, and excuse each to the other; give +them all hints of the forbearance necessary between such near neighbours, and +make those hints broadest which were meant for her sister’s benefit. +</p> + +<p> +In all other respects, her visit began and proceeded very well. Her own spirits +improved by change of place and subject, by being removed three miles from +Kellynch; Mary’s ailments lessened by having a constant companion, and +their daily intercourse with the other family, since there was neither superior +affection, confidence, nor employment in the cottage, to be interrupted by it, +was rather an advantage. It was certainly carried nearly as far as possible, +for they met every morning, and hardly ever spent an evening asunder; but she +believed they should not have done so well without the sight of Mr and Mrs +Musgrove’s respectable forms in the usual places, or without the talking, +laughing, and singing of their daughters. +</p> + +<p> +She played a great deal better than either of the Miss Musgroves, but having no +voice, no knowledge of the harp, and no fond parents, to sit by and fancy +themselves delighted, her performance was little thought of, only out of +civility, or to refresh the others, as she was well aware. She knew that when +she played she was giving pleasure only to herself; but this was no new +sensation. Excepting one short period of her life, she had never, since the age +of fourteen, never since the loss of her dear mother, known the happiness of +being listened to, or encouraged by any just appreciation or real taste. In +music she had been always used to feel alone in the world; and Mr and Mrs +Musgrove’s fond partiality for their own daughters’ performance, +and total indifference to any other person’s, gave her much more pleasure +for their sakes, than mortification for her own. +</p> + +<p> +The party at the Great House was sometimes increased by other company. The +neighbourhood was not large, but the Musgroves were visited by everybody, and +had more dinner-parties, and more callers, more visitors by invitation and by +chance, than any other family. They were more completely popular. +</p> + +<p> +The girls were wild for dancing; and the evenings ended, occasionally, in an +unpremeditated little ball. There was a family of cousins within a walk of +Uppercross, in less affluent circumstances, who depended on the Musgroves for +all their pleasures: they would come at any time, and help play at anything, or +dance anywhere; and Anne, very much preferring the office of musician to a more +active post, played country dances to them by the hour together; a kindness +which always recommended her musical powers to the notice of Mr and Mrs +Musgrove more than anything else, and often drew this +compliment;—“Well done, Miss Anne! very well done indeed! Lord +bless me! how those little fingers of yours fly about!” +</p> + +<p> +So passed the first three weeks. Michaelmas came; and now Anne’s heart +must be in Kellynch again. A beloved home made over to others; all the precious +rooms and furniture, groves, and prospects, beginning to own other eyes and +other limbs! She could not think of much else on the 29th of September; and she +had this sympathetic touch in the evening from Mary, who, on having occasion to +note down the day of the month, exclaimed, “Dear me, is not this the day +the Crofts were to come to Kellynch? I am glad I did not think of it before. +How low it makes me!” +</p> + +<p> +The Crofts took possession with true naval alertness, and were to be visited. +Mary deplored the necessity for herself. “Nobody knew how much she should +suffer. She should put it off as long as she could;” but was not easy +till she had talked Charles into driving her over on an early day, and was in a +very animated, comfortable state of imaginary agitation, when she came back. +Anne had very sincerely rejoiced in there being no means of her going. She +wished, however, to see the Crofts, and was glad to be within when the visit was +returned. They came: the master of the house was not at home, but the two +sisters were together; and as it chanced that Mrs Croft fell to the share of +Anne, while the Admiral sat by Mary, and made himself very agreeable by his +good-humoured notice of her little boys, she was well able to watch for a +likeness, and if it failed her in the features, to catch it in the voice, or in +the turn of sentiment and expression. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Croft, though neither tall nor fat, had a squareness, uprightness, and +vigour of form, which gave importance to her person. She had bright dark eyes, +good teeth, and altogether an agreeable face; though her reddened and +weather-beaten complexion, the consequence of her having been almost as much at +sea as her husband, made her seem to have lived some years longer in the world +than her real eight-and-thirty. Her manners were open, easy, and decided, like +one who had no distrust of herself, and no doubts of what to do; without any +approach to coarseness, however, or any want of good humour. Anne gave her +credit, indeed, for feelings of great consideration towards herself, in all +that related to Kellynch, and it pleased her: especially, as she had satisfied +herself in the very first half minute, in the instant even of introduction, +that there was not the smallest symptom of any knowledge or suspicion on Mrs +Croft’s side, to give a bias of any sort. She was quite easy on that +head, and consequently full of strength and courage, till for a moment +electrified by Mrs Croft’s suddenly saying,— +</p> + +<p> +“It was you, and not your sister, I find, that my brother had the +pleasure of being acquainted with, when he was in this country.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne hoped she had outlived the age of blushing; but the age of emotion she +certainly had not. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you may not have heard that he is married?” added Mrs +Croft. +</p> + +<p> +She could now answer as she ought; and was happy to feel, when Mrs +Croft’s next words explained it to be Mr Wentworth of whom she spoke, +that she had said nothing which might not do for either brother. She +immediately felt how reasonable it was, that Mrs Croft should be thinking and +speaking of Edward, and not of Frederick; and with shame at her own +forgetfulness applied herself to the knowledge of their former +neighbour’s present state with proper interest. +</p> + +<p> +The rest was all tranquillity; till, just as they were moving, she heard the +Admiral say to Mary— +</p> + +<p> +“We are expecting a brother of Mrs Croft’s here soon; I dare say +you know him by name.” +</p> + +<p> +He was cut short by the eager attacks of the little boys, clinging to him like +an old friend, and declaring he should not go; and being too much engrossed by +proposals of carrying them away in his coat pockets, &c., to have another +moment for finishing or recollecting what he had begun, Anne was left to +persuade herself, as well as she could, that the same brother must still be in +question. She could not, however, reach such a degree of certainty, as not to +be anxious to hear whether anything had been said on the subject at the other +house, where the Crofts had previously been calling. +</p> + +<p> +The folks of the Great House were to spend the evening of this day at the +Cottage; and it being now too late in the year for such visits to be made on +foot, the coach was beginning to be listened for, when the youngest Miss +Musgrove walked in. That she was coming to apologize, and that they should have +to spend the evening by themselves, was the first black idea; and Mary was +quite ready to be affronted, when Louisa made all right by saying, that she +only came on foot, to leave more room for the harp, which was bringing in the +carriage. +</p> + +<p> +“And I will tell you our reason,” she added, “and all about +it. I am come on to give you notice, that papa and mamma are out of spirits +this evening, especially mamma; she is thinking so much of poor Richard! And we +agreed it would be best to have the harp, for it seems to amuse her more than +the piano-forte. I will tell you why she is out of spirits. When the Crofts +called this morning, (they called here afterwards, did not they?), they +happened to say, that her brother, Captain Wentworth, is just returned to +England, or paid off, or something, and is coming to see them almost directly; +and most unluckily it came into mamma’s head, when they were gone, that +Wentworth, or something very like it, was the name of poor Richard’s +captain at one time; I do not know when or where, but a great while before he +died, poor fellow! And upon looking over his letters and things, she found it +was so, and is perfectly sure that this must be the very man, and her head is +quite full of it, and of poor Richard! So we must be as merry as we can, that +she may not be dwelling upon such gloomy things.” +</p> + +<p> +The real circumstances of this pathetic piece of family history were, that the +Musgroves had had the ill fortune of a very troublesome, hopeless son; and the +good fortune to lose him before he reached his twentieth year; that he had been +sent to sea because he was stupid and unmanageable on shore; that he had been +very little cared for at any time by his family, though quite as much as he +deserved; seldom heard of, and scarcely at all regretted, when the intelligence +of his death abroad had worked its way to Uppercross, two years before. +</p> + +<p> +He had, in fact, though his sisters were now doing all they could for him, by +calling him “poor Richard,” been nothing better than a +thick-headed, unfeeling, unprofitable Dick Musgrove, who had never done +anything to entitle himself to more than the abbreviation of his name, living +or dead. +</p> + +<p> +He had been several years at sea, and had, in the course of those removals to +which all midshipmen are liable, and especially such midshipmen as every +captain wishes to get rid of, been six months on board Captain Frederick +Wentworth’s frigate, the Laconia; and from the Laconia he had, under the +influence of his captain, written the only two letters which his father and +mother had ever received from him during the whole of his absence; that is to +say, the only two disinterested letters; all the rest had been mere +applications for money. +</p> + +<p> +In each letter he had spoken well of his captain; but yet, so little were they +in the habit of attending to such matters, so unobservant and incurious were +they as to the names of men or ships, that it had made scarcely any impression +at the time; and that Mrs Musgrove should have been suddenly struck, this very +day, with a recollection of the name of Wentworth, as connected with her son, +seemed one of those extraordinary bursts of mind which do sometimes occur. +</p> + +<p> +She had gone to her letters, and found it all as she supposed; and the +re-perusal of these letters, after so long an interval, her poor son gone for +ever, and all the strength of his faults forgotten, had affected her spirits +exceedingly, and thrown her into greater grief for him than she had known on +first hearing of his death. Mr Musgrove was, in a lesser degree, affected +likewise; and when they reached the cottage, they were evidently in want, +first, of being listened to anew on this subject, and afterwards, of all the +relief which cheerful companions could give them. +</p> + +<p> +To hear them talking so much of Captain Wentworth, repeating his name so often, +puzzling over past years, and at last ascertaining that it <i>might</i>, that +it probably <i>would</i>, turn out to be the very same Captain Wentworth whom +they recollected meeting, once or twice, after their coming back from +Clifton—a very fine young man—but they could not say whether it was +seven or eight years ago, was a new sort of trial to Anne’s nerves. She +found, however, that it was one to which she must inure herself. Since he +actually was expected in the country, she must teach herself to be insensible +on such points. And not only did it appear that he was expected, and speedily, +but the Musgroves, in their warm gratitude for the kindness he had shewn poor +Dick, and very high respect for his character, stamped as it was by poor +Dick’s having been six months under his care, and mentioning him in +strong, though not perfectly well-spelt praise, as “a fine dashing felow, +only two perticular about the schoolmaster,” were bent on introducing +themselves, and seeking his acquaintance, as soon as they could hear of his +arrival. +</p> + +<p> +The resolution of doing so helped to form the comfort of their evening. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<p> +A very few days more, and Captain Wentworth was known to be at Kellynch, and Mr +Musgrove had called on him, and come back warm in his praise, and he was +engaged with the Crofts to dine at Uppercross, by the end of another week. It +had been a great disappointment to Mr Musgrove to find that no earlier day +could be fixed, so impatient was he to shew his gratitude, by seeing Captain +Wentworth under his own roof, and welcoming him to all that was strongest and +best in his cellars. But a week must pass; only a week, in Anne’s +reckoning, and then, she supposed, they must meet; and soon she began to wish +that she could feel secure even for a week. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Wentworth made a very early return to Mr Musgrove’s civility, and +she was all but calling there in the same half hour. She and Mary were actually +setting forward for the Great House, where, as she afterwards learnt, they must +inevitably have found him, when they were stopped by the eldest boy’s +being at that moment brought home in consequence of a bad fall. The +child’s situation put the visit entirely aside; but she could not hear of +her escape with indifference, even in the midst of the serious anxiety which +they afterwards felt on his account. +</p> + +<p> +His collar-bone was found to be dislocated, and such injury received in the +back, as roused the most alarming ideas. It was an afternoon of distress, and +Anne had every thing to do at once; the apothecary to send for, the father to +have pursued and informed, the mother to support and keep from hysterics, the +servants to control, the youngest child to banish, and the poor suffering one +to attend and soothe; besides sending, as soon as she recollected it, proper +notice to the other house, which brought her an accession rather of frightened, +enquiring companions, than of very useful assistants. +</p> + +<p> +Her brother’s return was the first comfort; he could take best care of +his wife; and the second blessing was the arrival of the apothecary. Till he +came and had examined the child, their apprehensions were the worse for being +vague; they suspected great injury, but knew not where; but now the collar-bone +was soon replaced, and though Mr Robinson felt and felt, and rubbed, and looked +grave, and spoke low words both to the father and the aunt, still they were all +to hope the best, and to be able to part and eat their dinner in tolerable ease +of mind; and then it was, just before they parted, that the two young aunts +were able so far to digress from their nephew’s state, as to give the +information of Captain Wentworth’s visit; staying five minutes behind +their father and mother, to endeavour to express how perfectly delighted they +were with him, how much handsomer, how infinitely more agreeable they thought +him than any individual among their male acquaintance, who had been at all a +favourite before. How glad they had been to hear papa invite him to stay +dinner, how sorry when he said it was quite out of his power, and how glad +again when he had promised in reply to papa and mamma’s farther pressing +invitations to come and dine with them on the morrow—actually on the +morrow; and he had promised it in so pleasant a manner, as if he felt all the +motive of their attention just as he ought. And in short, he had looked and +said everything with such exquisite grace, that they could assure them all, +their heads were both turned by him; and off they ran, quite as full of glee as +of love, and apparently more full of Captain Wentworth than of little Charles. +</p> + +<p> +The same story and the same raptures were repeated, when the two girls came +with their father, through the gloom of the evening, to make enquiries; and Mr +Musgrove, no longer under the first uneasiness about his heir, could add his +confirmation and praise, and hope there would be now no occasion for putting +Captain Wentworth off, and only be sorry to think that the cottage party, +probably, would not like to leave the little boy, to give him the meeting. +“Oh no; as to leaving the little boy,” both father and mother were +in much too strong and recent alarm to bear the thought; and Anne, in the joy +of the escape, could not help adding her warm protestations to theirs. +</p> + +<p> +Charles Musgrove, indeed, afterwards, shewed more of inclination; “the +child was going on so well, and he wished so much to be introduced to Captain +Wentworth, that, perhaps, he might join them in the evening; he would not dine +from home, but he might walk in for half an hour.” But in this he was +eagerly opposed by his wife, with “Oh! no, indeed, Charles, I cannot bear +to have you go away. Only think if anything should happen?” +</p> + +<p> +The child had a good night, and was going on well the next day. It must be a +work of time to ascertain that no injury had been done to the spine; but Mr +Robinson found nothing to increase alarm, and Charles Musgrove began, +consequently, to feel no necessity for longer confinement. The child was to be +kept in bed and amused as quietly as possible; but what was there for a father +to do? This was quite a female case, and it would be highly absurd in him, who +could be of no use at home, to shut himself up. His father very much wished him +to meet Captain Wentworth, and there being no sufficient reason against it, he +ought to go; and it ended in his making a bold, public declaration, when he +came in from shooting, of his meaning to dress directly, and dine at the other +house. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing can be going on better than the child,” said he; “so +I told my father, just now, that I would come, and he thought me quite right. +Your sister being with you, my love, I have no scruple at all. You would not +like to leave him yourself, but you see I can be of no use. Anne will send for +me if anything is the matter.” +</p> + +<p> +Husbands and wives generally understand when opposition will be vain. Mary +knew, from Charles’s manner of speaking, that he was quite determined on +going, and that it would be of no use to teaze him. She said nothing, +therefore, till he was out of the room, but as soon as there was only Anne to +hear— +</p> + +<p> +“So you and I are to be left to shift by ourselves, with this poor sick +child; and not a creature coming near us all the evening! I knew how it would +be. This is always my luck. If there is anything disagreeable going on men are +always sure to get out of it, and Charles is as bad as any of them. Very +unfeeling! I must say it is very unfeeling of him to be running away from his +poor little boy. Talks of his being going on so well! How does he know that he +is going on well, or that there may not be a sudden change half an hour hence? +I did not think Charles would have been so unfeeling. So here he is to go away +and enjoy himself, and because I am the poor mother, I am not to be allowed to +stir; and yet, I am sure, I am more unfit than anybody else to be about the +child. My being the mother is the very reason why my feelings should not be +tried. I am not at all equal to it. You saw how hysterical I was +yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“But that was only the effect of the suddenness of your alarm—of +the shock. You will not be hysterical again. I dare say we shall have nothing +to distress us. I perfectly understand Mr Robinson’s directions, and have +no fears; and indeed, Mary, I cannot wonder at your husband. Nursing does not +belong to a man; it is not his province. A sick child is always the +mother’s property: her own feelings generally make it so.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope I am as fond of my child as any mother, but I do not know that I +am of any more use in the sick-room than Charles, for I cannot be always +scolding and teazing the poor child when it is ill; and you saw, this morning, +that if I told him to keep quiet, he was sure to begin kicking about. I have +not nerves for the sort of thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, could you be comfortable yourself, to be spending the whole evening +away from the poor boy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; you see his papa can, and why should not I? Jemima is so careful; +and she could send us word every hour how he was. I really think Charles might +as well have told his father we would all come. I am not more alarmed about +little Charles now than he is. I was dreadfully alarmed yesterday, but the case +is very different to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if you do not think it too late to give notice for yourself, +suppose you were to go, as well as your husband. Leave little Charles to my +care. Mr and Mrs Musgrove cannot think it wrong while I remain with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you serious?” cried Mary, her eyes brightening. “Dear +me! that’s a very good thought, very good, indeed. To be sure, I may just +as well go as not, for I am of no use at home—am I? and it only harasses +me. You, who have not a mother’s feelings, are a great deal the properest +person. You can make little Charles do anything; he always minds you at a word. +It will be a great deal better than leaving him only with Jemima. Oh! I shall +certainly go; I am sure I ought if I can, quite as much as Charles, for they +want me excessively to be acquainted with Captain Wentworth, and I know you do +not mind being left alone. An excellent thought of yours, indeed, Anne. I will +go and tell Charles, and get ready directly. You can send for us, you know, at +a moment’s notice, if anything is the matter; but I dare say there will +be nothing to alarm you. I should not go, you may be sure, if I did not feel +quite at ease about my dear child.” +</p> + +<p> +The next moment she was tapping at her husband’s dressing-room door, and +as Anne followed her up stairs, she was in time for the whole conversation, +which began with Mary’s saying, in a tone of great exultation— +</p> + +<p> +“I mean to go with you, Charles, for I am of no more use at home than you +are. If I were to shut myself up for ever with the child, I should not be able +to persuade him to do anything he did not like. Anne will stay; Anne undertakes +to stay at home and take care of him. It is Anne’s own proposal, and so I +shall go with you, which will be a great deal better, for I have not dined at +the other house since Tuesday.” +</p> + +<p> +“This is very kind of Anne,” was her husband’s answer, +“and I should be very glad to have you go; but it seems rather hard that +she should be left at home by herself, to nurse our sick child.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne was now at hand to take up her own cause, and the sincerity of her manner +being soon sufficient to convince him, where conviction was at least very +agreeable, he had no farther scruples as to her being left to dine alone, +though he still wanted her to join them in the evening, when the child might be +at rest for the night, and kindly urged her to let him come and fetch her, but +she was quite unpersuadable; and this being the case, she had ere long the +pleasure of seeing them set off together in high spirits. They were gone, she +hoped, to be happy, however oddly constructed such happiness might seem; as for +herself, she was left with as many sensations of comfort, as were, perhaps, +ever likely to be hers. She knew herself to be of the first utility to the +child; and what was it to her if Frederick Wentworth were only half a mile +distant, making himself agreeable to others? +</p> + +<p> +She would have liked to know how he felt as to a meeting. Perhaps indifferent, +if indifference could exist under such circumstances. He must be either +indifferent or unwilling. Had he wished ever to see her again, he need not have +waited till this time; he would have done what she could not but believe that +in his place she should have done long ago, when events had been early giving +him the independence which alone had been wanting. +</p> + +<p> +Her brother and sister came back delighted with their new acquaintance, and +their visit in general. There had been music, singing, talking, laughing, all +that was most agreeable; charming manners in Captain Wentworth, no shyness or +reserve; they seemed all to know each other perfectly, and he was coming the +very next morning to shoot with Charles. He was to come to breakfast, but not +at the Cottage, though that had been proposed at first; but then he had been +pressed to come to the Great House instead, and he seemed afraid of being in +Mrs Charles Musgrove’s way, on account of the child, and therefore, +somehow, they hardly knew how, it ended in Charles’s being to meet him to +breakfast at his father’s. +</p> + +<p> +Anne understood it. He wished to avoid seeing her. He had inquired after her, +she found, slightly, as might suit a former slight acquaintance, seeming to +acknowledge such as she had acknowledged, actuated, perhaps, by the same view +of escaping introduction when they were to meet. +</p> + +<p> +The morning hours of the Cottage were always later than those of the other +house, and on the morrow the difference was so great that Mary and Anne were +not more than beginning breakfast when Charles came in to say that they were +just setting off, that he was come for his dogs, that his sisters were +following with Captain Wentworth; his sisters meaning to visit Mary and the +child, and Captain Wentworth proposing also to wait on her for a few minutes if +not inconvenient; and though Charles had answered for the child’s being +in no such state as could make it inconvenient, Captain Wentworth would not be +satisfied without his running on to give notice. +</p> + +<p> +Mary, very much gratified by this attention, was delighted to receive him, +while a thousand feelings rushed on Anne, of which this was the most consoling, +that it would soon be over. And it was soon over. In two minutes after +Charles’s preparation, the others appeared; they were in the +drawing-room. Her eye half met Captain Wentworth’s, a bow, a curtsey +passed; she heard his voice; he talked to Mary, said all that was right, said +something to the Miss Musgroves, enough to mark an easy footing; the room +seemed full, full of persons and voices, but a few minutes ended it. Charles +shewed himself at the window, all was ready, their visitor had bowed and was +gone, the Miss Musgroves were gone too, suddenly resolving to walk to the end +of the village with the sportsmen: the room was cleared, and Anne might finish +her breakfast as she could. +</p> + +<p> +“It is over! it is over!” she repeated to herself again and again, +in nervous gratitude. “The worst is over!” +</p> + +<p> +Mary talked, but she could not attend. She had seen him. They had met. They had +been once more in the same room. +</p> + +<p> +Soon, however, she began to reason with herself, and try to be feeling less. +Eight years, almost eight years had passed, since all had been given up. How +absurd to be resuming the agitation which such an interval had banished into +distance and indistinctness! What might not eight years do? Events of every +description, changes, alienations, removals—all, all must be comprised in +it, and oblivion of the past— how natural, how certain too! It included +nearly a third part of her own life. +</p> + +<p> +Alas! with all her reasoning, she found, that to retentive feelings eight years +may be little more than nothing. +</p> + +<p> +Now, how were his sentiments to be read? Was this like wishing to avoid her? +And the next moment she was hating herself for the folly which asked the +question. +</p> + +<p> +On one other question which perhaps her utmost wisdom might not have prevented, +she was soon spared all suspense; for, after the Miss Musgroves had returned +and finished their visit at the Cottage she had this spontaneous information +from Mary:— +</p> + +<p> +“Captain Wentworth is not very gallant by you, Anne, though he was so +attentive to me. Henrietta asked him what he thought of you, when they went +away, and he said, ‘You were so altered he should not have known you +again.’” +</p> + +<p> +Mary had no feelings to make her respect her sister’s in a common way, +but she was perfectly unsuspicious of being inflicting any peculiar wound. +</p> + +<p> +“Altered beyond his knowledge.” Anne fully submitted, in silent, +deep mortification. Doubtless it was so, and she could take no revenge, for he +was not altered, or not for the worse. She had already acknowledged it to +herself, and she could not think differently, let him think of her as he would. +No: the years which had destroyed her youth and bloom had only given him a more +glowing, manly, open look, in no respect lessening his personal advantages. She +had seen the same Frederick Wentworth. +</p> + +<p> +“So altered that he should not have known her again!” These were +words which could not but dwell with her. Yet she soon began to rejoice that +she had heard them. They were of sobering tendency; they allayed agitation; +they composed, and consequently must make her happier. +</p> + +<p> +Frederick Wentworth had used such words, or something like them, but without an +idea that they would be carried round to her. He had thought her wretchedly +altered, and in the first moment of appeal, had spoken as he felt. He had not +forgiven Anne Elliot. She had used him ill, deserted and disappointed him; and +worse, she had shewn a feebleness of character in doing so, which his own +decided, confident temper could not endure. She had given him up to oblige +others. It had been the effect of over-persuasion. It had been weakness and +timidity. +</p> + +<p> +He had been most warmly attached to her, and had never seen a woman since whom +he thought her equal; but, except from some natural sensation of curiosity, he +had no desire of meeting her again. Her power with him was gone for ever. +</p> + +<p> +It was now his object to marry. He was rich, and being turned on shore, fully +intended to settle as soon as he could be properly tempted; actually looking +round, ready to fall in love with all the speed which a clear head and a quick +taste could allow. He had a heart for either of the Miss Musgroves, if they +could catch it; a heart, in short, for any pleasing young woman who came in his +way, excepting Anne Elliot. This was his only secret exception, when he said to +his sister, in answer to her suppositions:— +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, here I am, Sophia, quite ready to make a foolish match. Anybody +between fifteen and thirty may have me for asking. A little beauty, and a few +smiles, and a few compliments to the navy, and I am a lost man. Should not this +be enough for a sailor, who has had no society among women to make him +nice?” +</p> + +<p> +He said it, she knew, to be contradicted. His bright proud eye spoke the +conviction that he was nice; and Anne Elliot was not out of his thoughts, when +he more seriously described the woman he should wish to meet with. “A +strong mind, with sweetness of manner,” made the first and the last of +the description. +</p> + +<p> +“That is the woman I want,” said he. “Something a little +inferior I shall of course put up with, but it must not be much. If I am a +fool, I shall be a fool indeed, for I have thought on the subject more than +most men.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<p> +From this time Captain Wentworth and Anne Elliot were repeatedly in the same +circle. They were soon dining in company together at Mr Musgrove’s, for +the little boy’s state could no longer supply his aunt with a pretence +for absenting herself; and this was but the beginning of other dinings and +other meetings. +</p> + +<p> +Whether former feelings were to be renewed must be brought to the proof; former +times must undoubtedly be brought to the recollection of each; <i>they</i> +could not but be reverted to; the year of their engagement could not but be +named by him, in the little narratives or descriptions which conversation +called forth. His profession qualified him, his disposition lead him, to talk; +and “<i>That</i> was in the year six;” “<i>That</i> happened +before I went to sea in the year six,” occurred in the course of the +first evening they spent together: and though his voice did not falter, and +though she had no reason to suppose his eye wandering towards her while he +spoke, Anne felt the utter impossibility, from her knowledge of his mind, that +he could be unvisited by remembrance any more than herself. There must be the +same immediate association of thought, though she was very far from conceiving +it to be of equal pain. +</p> + +<p> +They had no conversation together, no intercourse but what the commonest +civility required. Once so much to each other! Now nothing! There <i>had</i> +been a time, when of all the large party now filling the drawing-room at +Uppercross, they would have found it most difficult to cease to speak to one +another. With the exception, perhaps, of Admiral and Mrs Croft, who seemed +particularly attached and happy, (Anne could allow no other exceptions even +among the married couples), there could have been no two hearts so open, no +tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved. Now +they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become +acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement. +</p> + +<p> +When he talked, she heard the same voice, and discerned the same mind. There +was a very general ignorance of all naval matters throughout the party; and he +was very much questioned, and especially by the two Miss Musgroves, who seemed +hardly to have any eyes but for him, as to the manner of living on board, daily +regulations, food, hours, &c., and their surprise at his accounts, at +learning the degree of accommodation and arrangement which was practicable, +drew from him some pleasant ridicule, which reminded Anne of the early days +when she too had been ignorant, and she too had been accused of supposing +sailors to be living on board without anything to eat, or any cook to dress it +if there were, or any servant to wait, or any knife and fork to use. +</p> + +<p> +From thus listening and thinking, she was roused by a whisper of Mrs +Musgrove’s who, overcome by fond regrets, could not help saying— +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Miss Anne, if it had pleased Heaven to spare my poor son, I dare say +he would have been just such another by this time.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne suppressed a smile, and listened kindly, while Mrs Musgrove relieved her +heart a little more; and for a few minutes, therefore, could not keep pace with +the conversation of the others. +</p> + +<p> +When she could let her attention take its natural course again, she found the +Miss Musgroves just fetching the Navy List (their own navy list, the first that +had ever been at Uppercross), and sitting down together to pore over it, with +the professed view of finding out the ships that Captain Wentworth had +commanded. +</p> + +<p> +“Your first was the Asp, I remember; we will look for the Asp.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will not find her there. Quite worn out and broken up. I was the +last man who commanded her. Hardly fit for service then. Reported fit for home +service for a year or two, and so I was sent off to the West Indies.” +</p> + +<p> +The girls looked all amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“The Admiralty,” he continued, “entertain themselves now and +then, with sending a few hundred men to sea, in a ship not fit to be employed. +But they have a great many to provide for; and among the thousands that may +just as well go to the bottom as not, it is impossible for them to distinguish +the very set who may be least missed.” +</p> + +<p> +“Phoo! phoo!” cried the Admiral, “what stuff these young +fellows talk! Never was a better sloop than the Asp in her day. For an old +built sloop, you would not see her equal. Lucky fellow to get her! He knows +there must have been twenty better men than himself applying for her at the +same time. Lucky fellow to get anything so soon, with no more interest than +his.” +</p> + +<p> +“I felt my luck, Admiral, I assure you;” replied Captain Wentworth, +seriously. “I was as well satisfied with my appointment as you can +desire. It was a great object with me at that time to be at sea; a very great +object, I wanted to be doing something.” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure you did. What should a young fellow like you do ashore for +half a year together? If a man had not a wife, he soon wants to be afloat +again.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Captain Wentworth,” cried Louisa, “how vexed you must +have been when you came to the Asp, to see what an old thing they had given +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I knew pretty well what she was before that day;” said he, +smiling. “I had no more discoveries to make than you would have as to the +fashion and strength of any old pelisse, which you had seen lent about among +half your acquaintance ever since you could remember, and which at last, on +some very wet day, is lent to yourself. Ah! she was a dear old Asp to me. She +did all that I wanted. I knew she would. I knew that we should either go to the +bottom together, or that she would be the making of me; and I never had two +days of foul weather all the time I was at sea in her; and after taking +privateers enough to be very entertaining, I had the good luck in my passage +home the next autumn, to fall in with the very French frigate I wanted. I +brought her into Plymouth; and here another instance of luck. We had not been +six hours in the Sound, when a gale came on, which lasted four days and nights, +and which would have done for poor old Asp in half the time; our touch with the +Great Nation not having much improved our condition. Four-and-twenty hours +later, and I should only have been a gallant Captain Wentworth, in a small +paragraph at one corner of the newspapers; and being lost in only a sloop, +nobody would have thought about me.” Anne’s shudderings were to +herself alone; but the Miss Musgroves could be as open as they were sincere, in +their exclamations of pity and horror. +</p> + +<p> +“And so then, I suppose,” said Mrs Musgrove, in a low voice, as if +thinking aloud, “so then he went away to the Laconia, and there he met +with our poor boy. Charles, my dear,” (beckoning him to her), “do +ask Captain Wentworth where it was he first met with your poor brother. I +always forgot.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was at Gibraltar, mother, I know. Dick had been left ill at +Gibraltar, with a recommendation from his former captain to Captain +Wentworth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! but, Charles, tell Captain Wentworth, he need not be afraid of +mentioning poor Dick before me, for it would be rather a pleasure to hear him +talked of by such a good friend.” +</p> + +<p> +Charles, being somewhat more mindful of the probabilities of the case, only +nodded in reply, and walked away. +</p> + +<p> +The girls were now hunting for the Laconia; and Captain Wentworth could not +deny himself the pleasure of taking the precious volume into his own hands to +save them the trouble, and once more read aloud the little statement of her +name and rate, and present non-commissioned class, observing over it that she +too had been one of the best friends man ever had. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! those were pleasant days when I had the Laconia! How fast I made +money in her. A friend of mine and I had such a lovely cruise together off the +Western Islands. Poor Harville, sister! You know how much he wanted money: +worse than myself. He had a wife. Excellent fellow. I shall never forget his +happiness. He felt it all, so much for her sake. I wished for him again the +next summer, when I had still the same luck in the Mediterranean.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I am sure, Sir,” said Mrs Musgrove, “it was a lucky day +for <i>us</i>, when you were put captain into that ship. <i>We</i> shall never +forget what you did.” +</p> + +<p> +Her feelings made her speak low; and Captain Wentworth, hearing only in part, +and probably not having Dick Musgrove at all near his thoughts, looked rather +in suspense, and as if waiting for more. +</p> + +<p> +“My brother,” whispered one of the girls; “mamma is thinking +of poor Richard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Poor dear fellow!” continued Mrs Musgrove; “he was grown so +steady, and such an excellent correspondent, while he was under your care! Ah! +it would have been a happy thing, if he had never left you. I assure you, +Captain Wentworth, we are very sorry he ever left you.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a momentary expression in Captain Wentworth’s face at this +speech, a certain glance of his bright eye, and curl of his handsome mouth, +which convinced Anne, that instead of sharing in Mrs Musgrove’s kind +wishes, as to her son, he had probably been at some pains to get rid of him; +but it was too transient an indulgence of self-amusement to be detected by any +who understood him less than herself; in another moment he was perfectly +collected and serious, and almost instantly afterwards coming up to the sofa, +on which she and Mrs Musgrove were sitting, took a place by the latter, and +entered into conversation with her, in a low voice, about her son, doing it +with so much sympathy and natural grace, as shewed the kindest consideration +for all that was real and unabsurd in the parent’s feelings. +</p> + +<p> +They were actually on the same sofa, for Mrs Musgrove had most readily made +room for him; they were divided only by Mrs Musgrove. It was no insignificant +barrier, indeed. Mrs Musgrove was of a comfortable, substantial size, +infinitely more fitted by nature to express good cheer and good humour, than +tenderness and sentiment; and while the agitations of Anne’s slender +form, and pensive face, may be considered as very completely screened, Captain +Wentworth should be allowed some credit for the self-command with which he +attended to her large fat sighings over the destiny of a son, whom alive nobody +had cared for. +</p> + +<p> +Personal size and mental sorrow have certainly no necessary proportions. A +large bulky figure has as good a right to be in deep affliction, as the most +graceful set of limbs in the world. But, fair or not fair, there are unbecoming +conjunctions, which reason will patronize in vain—which taste cannot +tolerate—which ridicule will seize. +</p> + +<p> +The Admiral, after taking two or three refreshing turns about the room with his +hands behind him, being called to order by his wife, now came up to Captain +Wentworth, and without any observation of what he might be interrupting, +thinking only of his own thoughts, began with— +</p> + +<p> +“If you had been a week later at Lisbon, last spring, Frederick, you +would have been asked to give a passage to Lady Mary Grierson and her +daughters.” +</p> + +<p> +“Should I? I am glad I was not a week later then.” +</p> + +<p> +The Admiral abused him for his want of gallantry. He defended himself; though +professing that he would never willingly admit any ladies on board a ship of +his, excepting for a ball, or a visit, which a few hours might comprehend. +</p> + +<p> +“But, if I know myself,” said he, “this is from no want of +gallantry towards them. It is rather from feeling how impossible it is, with +all one’s efforts, and all one’s sacrifices, to make the +accommodations on board such as women ought to have. There can be no want of +gallantry, Admiral, in rating the claims of women to every personal comfort +<i>high</i>, and this is what I do. I hate to hear of women on board, or to see +them on board; and no ship under my command shall ever convey a family of +ladies anywhere, if I can help it.” +</p> + +<p> +This brought his sister upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Frederick! But I cannot believe it of you.—All idle +refinement!—Women may be as comfortable on board, as in the best house in +England. I believe I have lived as much on board as most women, and I know +nothing superior to the accommodations of a man-of-war. I declare I have not a +comfort or an indulgence about me, even at Kellynch Hall,” (with a kind +bow to Anne), “beyond what I always had in most of the ships I have lived +in; and they have been five altogether.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing to the purpose,” replied her brother. “You were +living with your husband, and were the only woman on board.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you, yourself, brought Mrs Harville, her sister, her cousin, and +three children, round from Portsmouth to Plymouth. Where was this superfine, +extraordinary sort of gallantry of yours then?” +</p> + +<p> +“All merged in my friendship, Sophia. I would assist any brother +officer’s wife that I could, and I would bring anything of +Harville’s from the world’s end, if he wanted it. But do not +imagine that I did not feel it an evil in itself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Depend upon it, they were all perfectly comfortable.” +</p> + +<p> +“I might not like them the better for that perhaps. Such a number of +women and children have no <i>right</i> to be comfortable on board.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Frederick, you are talking quite idly. Pray, what would become +of us poor sailors’ wives, who often want to be conveyed to one port or +another, after our husbands, if everybody had your feelings?” +</p> + +<p> +“My feelings, you see, did not prevent my taking Mrs Harville and all her +family to Plymouth.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I hate to hear you talking so like a fine gentleman, and as if women +were all fine ladies, instead of rational creatures. We none of us expect to be +in smooth water all our days.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! my dear,” said the Admiral, “when he has got a wife, he +will sing a different tune. When he is married, if we have the good luck to +live to another war, we shall see him do as you and I, and a great many others, +have done. We shall have him very thankful to anybody that will bring him his +wife.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, that we shall.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now I have done,” cried Captain Wentworth. “When once +married people begin to attack me with,—‘Oh! you will think very +differently, when you are married.’ I can only say, ‘No, I shall +not;’ and then they say again, ‘Yes, you will,’ and there is +an end of it.” +</p> + +<p> +He got up and moved away. +</p> + +<p> +“What a great traveller you must have been, ma’am!” said Mrs +Musgrove to Mrs Croft. +</p> + +<p> +“Pretty well, ma’am, in the fifteen years of my marriage; though +many women have done more. I have crossed the Atlantic four times, and have +been once to the East Indies, and back again, and only once; besides being in +different places about home: Cork, and Lisbon, and Gibraltar. But I never went +beyond the Streights, and never was in the West Indies. We do not call Bermuda +or Bahama, you know, the West Indies.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Musgrove had not a word to say in dissent; she could not accuse herself of +having ever called them anything in the whole course of her life. +</p> + +<p> +“And I do assure you, ma’am,” pursued Mrs Croft, “that +nothing can exceed the accommodations of a man-of-war; I speak, you know, of +the higher rates. When you come to a frigate, of course, you are more confined; +though any reasonable woman may be perfectly happy in one of them; and I can +safely say, that the happiest part of my life has been spent on board a ship. +While we were together, you know, there was nothing to be feared. Thank God! I +have always been blessed with excellent health, and no climate disagrees with +me. A little disordered always the first twenty-four hours of going to sea, but +never knew what sickness was afterwards. The only time I ever really suffered +in body or mind, the only time that I ever fancied myself unwell, or had any +ideas of danger, was the winter that I passed by myself at Deal, when the +Admiral (<i>Captain</i> Croft then) was in the North Seas. I lived in perpetual +fright at that time, and had all manner of imaginary complaints from not +knowing what to do with myself, or when I should hear from him next; but as +long as we could be together, nothing ever ailed me, and I never met with the +smallest inconvenience.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aye, to be sure. Yes, indeed, oh yes! I am quite of your opinion, Mrs +Croft,” was Mrs Musgrove’s hearty answer. “There is nothing +so bad as a separation. I am quite of your opinion. <i>I</i> know what it is, +for Mr Musgrove always attends the assizes, and I am so glad when they are +over, and he is safe back again.” +</p> + +<p> +The evening ended with dancing. On its being proposed, Anne offered her +services, as usual; and though her eyes would sometimes fill with tears as she +sat at the instrument, she was extremely glad to be employed, and desired +nothing in return but to be unobserved. +</p> + +<p> +It was a merry, joyous party, and no one seemed in higher spirits than Captain +Wentworth. She felt that he had every thing to elevate him which general +attention and deference, and especially the attention of all the young women, +could do. The Miss Hayters, the females of the family of cousins already +mentioned, were apparently admitted to the honour of being in love with him; +and as for Henrietta and Louisa, they both seemed so entirely occupied by him, +that nothing but the continued appearance of the most perfect good-will between +themselves could have made it credible that they were not decided rivals. If he +were a little spoilt by such universal, such eager admiration, who could +wonder? +</p> + +<p> +These were some of the thoughts which occupied Anne, while her fingers were +mechanically at work, proceeding for half an hour together, equally without +error, and without consciousness. <i>Once</i> she felt that he was looking at +herself, observing her altered features, perhaps, trying to trace in them the +ruins of the face which had once charmed him; and <i>once</i> she knew that he +must have spoken of her; she was hardly aware of it, till she heard the answer; +but then she was sure of his having asked his partner whether Miss Elliot never +danced? The answer was, “Oh, no; never; she has quite given up dancing. +She had rather play. She is never tired of playing.” Once, too, he spoke +to her. She had left the instrument on the dancing being over, and he had sat +down to try to make out an air which he wished to give the Miss Musgroves an +idea of. Unintentionally she returned to that part of the room; he saw her, +and, instantly rising, said, with studied politeness— +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, madam, this is your seat;” and though she +immediately drew back with a decided negative, he was not to be induced to sit +down again. +</p> + +<p> +Anne did not wish for more of such looks and speeches. His cold politeness, his +ceremonious grace, were worse than anything. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<p> +Captain Wentworth was come to Kellynch as to a home, to stay as long as he +liked, being as thoroughly the object of the Admiral’s fraternal kindness +as of his wife’s. He had intended, on first arriving, to proceed very +soon into Shropshire, and visit the brother settled in that country, but the +attractions of Uppercross induced him to put this off. There was so much of +friendliness, and of flattery, and of everything most bewitching in his +reception there; the old were so hospitable, the young so agreeable, that he +could not but resolve to remain where he was, and take all the charms and +perfections of Edward’s wife upon credit a little longer. +</p> + +<p> +It was soon Uppercross with him almost every day. The Musgroves could hardly be +more ready to invite than he to come, particularly in the morning, when he had +no companion at home, for the Admiral and Mrs Croft were generally out of doors +together, interesting themselves in their new possessions, their grass, and +their sheep, and dawdling about in a way not endurable to a third person, or +driving out in a gig, lately added to their establishment. +</p> + +<p> +Hitherto there had been but one opinion of Captain Wentworth among the +Musgroves and their dependencies. It was unvarying, warm admiration everywhere; +but this intimate footing was not more than established, when a certain Charles +Hayter returned among them, to be a good deal disturbed by it, and to think +Captain Wentworth very much in the way. +</p> + +<p> +Charles Hayter was the eldest of all the cousins, and a very amiable, pleasing +young man, between whom and Henrietta there had been a considerable appearance +of attachment previous to Captain Wentworth’s introduction. He was in +orders; and having a curacy in the neighbourhood, where residence was not +required, lived at his father’s house, only two miles from Uppercross. A +short absence from home had left his fair one unguarded by his attentions at +this critical period, and when he came back he had the pain of finding very +altered manners, and of seeing Captain Wentworth. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Musgrove and Mrs Hayter were sisters. They had each had money, but their +marriages had made a material difference in their degree of consequence. Mr +Hayter had some property of his own, but it was insignificant compared with Mr +Musgrove’s; and while the Musgroves were in the first class of society in +the country, the young Hayters would, from their parents’ inferior, +retired, and unpolished way of living, and their own defective education, have +been hardly in any class at all, but for their connexion with Uppercross, this +eldest son of course excepted, who had chosen to be a scholar and a gentleman, +and who was very superior in cultivation and manners to all the rest. +</p> + +<p> +The two families had always been on excellent terms, there being no pride on +one side, and no envy on the other, and only such a consciousness of +superiority in the Miss Musgroves, as made them pleased to improve their +cousins. Charles’s attentions to Henrietta had been observed by her +father and mother without any disapprobation. “It would not be a great +match for her; but if Henrietta liked him,”—and Henrietta +<i>did</i> seem to like him. +</p> + +<p> +Henrietta fully thought so herself, before Captain Wentworth came; but from +that time Cousin Charles had been very much forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +Which of the two sisters was preferred by Captain Wentworth was as yet quite +doubtful, as far as Anne’s observation reached. Henrietta was perhaps the +prettiest, Louisa had the higher spirits; and she knew not <i>now</i>, whether +the more gentle or the more lively character were most likely to attract him. +</p> + +<p> +Mr and Mrs Musgrove, either from seeing little, or from an entire confidence in +the discretion of both their daughters, and of all the young men who came near +them, seemed to leave everything to take its chance. There was not the smallest +appearance of solicitude or remark about them in the Mansion-house; but it was +different at the Cottage: the young couple there were more disposed to +speculate and wonder; and Captain Wentworth had not been above four or five +times in the Miss Musgroves’ company, and Charles Hayter had but just +reappeared, when Anne had to listen to the opinions of her brother and sister, +as to <i>which</i> was the one liked best. Charles gave it for Louisa, Mary for +Henrietta, but quite agreeing that to have him marry either could be extremely +delightful. +</p> + +<p> +Charles “had never seen a pleasanter man in his life; and from what he +had once heard Captain Wentworth himself say, was very sure that he had not +made less than twenty thousand pounds by the war. Here was a fortune at once; +besides which, there would be the chance of what might be done in any future +war; and he was sure Captain Wentworth was as likely a man to distinguish +himself as any officer in the navy. Oh! it would be a capital match for either +of his sisters.” +</p> + +<p> +“Upon my word it would,” replied Mary. “Dear me! If he should +rise to any very great honours! If he should ever be made a baronet! +‘Lady Wentworth’ sounds very well. That would be a noble thing, +indeed, for Henrietta! She would take place of me then, and Henrietta would not +dislike that. Sir Frederick and Lady Wentworth! It would be but a new creation, +however, and I never think much of your new creations.” +</p> + +<p> +It suited Mary best to think Henrietta the one preferred on the very account of +Charles Hayter, whose pretensions she wished to see put an end to. She looked +down very decidedly upon the Hayters, and thought it would be quite a +misfortune to have the existing connection between the families +renewed—very sad for herself and her children. +</p> + +<p> +“You know,” said she, “I cannot think him at all a fit match +for Henrietta; and considering the alliances which the Musgroves have made, she +has no right to throw herself away. I do not think any young woman has a right +to make a choice that may be disagreeable and inconvenient to the +<i>principal</i> part of her family, and be giving bad connections to those who +have not been used to them. And, pray, who is Charles Hayter? Nothing but a +country curate. A most improper match for Miss Musgrove of Uppercross.” +</p> + +<p> +Her husband, however, would not agree with her here; for besides having a +regard for his cousin, Charles Hayter was an eldest son, and he saw things as +an eldest son himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Now you are talking nonsense, Mary,” was therefore his answer. +“It would not be a <i>great</i> match for Henrietta, but Charles has a +very fair chance, through the Spicers, of getting something from the Bishop in +the course of a year or two; and you will please to remember, that he is the +eldest son; whenever my uncle dies, he steps into very pretty property. The +estate at Winthrop is not less than two hundred and fifty acres, besides the +farm near Taunton, which is some of the best land in the country. I grant you, +that any of them but Charles would be a very shocking match for Henrietta, and +indeed it could not be; he is the only one that could be possible; but he is a +very good-natured, good sort of a fellow; and whenever Winthrop comes into his +hands, he will make a different sort of place of it, and live in a very +different sort of way; and with that property, he will never be a contemptible +man—good, freehold property. No, no; Henrietta might do worse than marry +Charles Hayter; and if she has him, and Louisa can get Captain Wentworth, I +shall be very well satisfied.” +</p> + +<p> +“Charles may say what he pleases,” cried Mary to Anne, as soon as +he was out of the room, “but it would be shocking to have Henrietta marry +Charles Hayter; a very bad thing for <i>her</i>, and still worse for <i>me;</i> +and therefore it is very much to be wished that Captain Wentworth may soon put +him quite out of her head, and I have very little doubt that he has. She took +hardly any notice of Charles Hayter yesterday. I wish you had been there to see +her behaviour. And as to Captain Wentworth’s liking Louisa as well as +Henrietta, it is nonsense to say so; for he certainly <i>does</i> like +Henrietta a great deal the best. But Charles is so positive! I wish you had +been with us yesterday, for then you might have decided between us; and I am +sure you would have thought as I did, unless you had been determined to give it +against me.” +</p> + +<p> +A dinner at Mr Musgrove’s had been the occasion when all these things +should have been seen by Anne; but she had staid at home, under the mixed plea +of a headache of her own, and some return of indisposition in little Charles. +She had thought only of avoiding Captain Wentworth; but an escape from being +appealed to as umpire was now added to the advantages of a quiet evening. +</p> + +<p> +As to Captain Wentworth’s views, she deemed it of more consequence that +he should know his own mind early enough not to be endangering the happiness of +either sister, or impeaching his own honour, than that he should prefer +Henrietta to Louisa, or Louisa to Henrietta. Either of them would, in all +probability, make him an affectionate, good-humoured wife. With regard to +Charles Hayter, she had delicacy which must be pained by any lightness of +conduct in a well-meaning young woman, and a heart to sympathize in any of the +sufferings it occasioned; but if Henrietta found herself mistaken in the nature +of her feelings, the alteration could not be understood too soon. +</p> + +<p> +Charles Hayter had met with much to disquiet and mortify him in his +cousin’s behaviour. She had too old a regard for him to be so wholly +estranged as might in two meetings extinguish every past hope, and leave him +nothing to do but to keep away from Uppercross: but there was such a change as +became very alarming, when such a man as Captain Wentworth was to be regarded +as the probable cause. He had been absent only two Sundays, and when they +parted, had left her interested, even to the height of his wishes, in his +prospect of soon quitting his present curacy, and obtaining that of Uppercross +instead. It had then seemed the object nearest her heart, that Dr Shirley, the +rector, who for more than forty years had been zealously discharging all the +duties of his office, but was now growing too infirm for many of them, should +be quite fixed on engaging a curate; should make his curacy quite as good as he +could afford, and should give Charles Hayter the promise of it. The advantage +of his having to come only to Uppercross, instead of going six miles another +way; of his having, in every respect, a better curacy; of his belonging to +their dear Dr Shirley, and of dear, good Dr Shirley’s being relieved from +the duty which he could no longer get through without most injurious fatigue, +had been a great deal, even to Louisa, but had been almost everything to +Henrietta. When he came back, alas! the zeal of the business was gone by. +Louisa could not listen at all to his account of a conversation which he had +just held with Dr Shirley: she was at a window, looking out for Captain +Wentworth; and even Henrietta had at best only a divided attention to give, and +seemed to have forgotten all the former doubt and solicitude of the +negotiation. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I am very glad indeed: but I always thought you would have it; I +always thought you sure. It did not appear to me that—in short, you know, +Dr Shirley <i>must</i> have a curate, and you had secured his promise. Is he +coming, Louisa?” +</p> + +<p> +One morning, very soon after the dinner at the Musgroves, at which Anne had not +been present, Captain Wentworth walked into the drawing-room at the Cottage, +where were only herself and the little invalid Charles, who was lying on the +sofa. +</p> + +<p> +The surprise of finding himself almost alone with Anne Elliot, deprived his +manners of their usual composure: he started, and could only say, “I +thought the Miss Musgroves had been here: Mrs Musgrove told me I should find +them here,” before he walked to the window to recollect himself, and feel +how he ought to behave. +</p> + +<p> +“They are up stairs with my sister: they will be down in a few moments, I +dare say,” had been Anne’s reply, in all the confusion that was +natural; and if the child had not called her to come and do something for him, +she would have been out of the room the next moment, and released Captain +Wentworth as well as herself. +</p> + +<p> +He continued at the window; and after calmly and politely saying, “I hope +the little boy is better,” was silent. +</p> + +<p> +She was obliged to kneel down by the sofa, and remain there to satisfy her +patient; and thus they continued a few minutes, when, to her very great +satisfaction, she heard some other person crossing the little vestibule. She +hoped, on turning her head, to see the master of the house; but it proved to be +one much less calculated for making matters easy—Charles Hayter, probably +not at all better pleased by the sight of Captain Wentworth than Captain +Wentworth had been by the sight of Anne. +</p> + +<p> +She only attempted to say, “How do you do? Will you not sit down? The +others will be here presently.” +</p> + +<p> +Captain Wentworth, however, came from his window, apparently not ill-disposed +for conversation; but Charles Hayter soon put an end to his attempts by seating +himself near the table, and taking up the newspaper; and Captain Wentworth +returned to his window. +</p> + +<p> +Another minute brought another addition. The younger boy, a remarkable stout, +forward child, of two years old, having got the door opened for him by some one +without, made his determined appearance among them, and went straight to the +sofa to see what was going on, and put in his claim to anything good that might +be giving away. +</p> + +<p> +There being nothing to eat, he could only have some play; and as his aunt would +not let him tease his sick brother, he began to fasten himself upon her, as she +knelt, in such a way that, busy as she was about Charles, she could not shake +him off. She spoke to him, ordered, entreated, and insisted in vain. Once she +did contrive to push him away, but the boy had the greater pleasure in getting +upon her back again directly. +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” said she, “get down this moment. You are extremely +troublesome. I am very angry with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Walter,” cried Charles Hayter, “why do you not do as you are +bid? Do not you hear your aunt speak? Come to me, Walter, come to cousin +Charles.” +</p> + +<p> +But not a bit did Walter stir. +</p> + +<p> +In another moment, however, she found herself in the state of being released +from him; some one was taking him from her, though he had bent down her head so +much, that his little sturdy hands were unfastened from around her neck, and he +was resolutely borne away, before she knew that Captain Wentworth had done it. +</p> + +<p> +Her sensations on the discovery made her perfectly speechless. She could not +even thank him. She could only hang over little Charles, with most disordered +feelings. His kindness in stepping forward to her relief, the manner, the +silence in which it had passed, the little particulars of the circumstance, +with the conviction soon forced on her by the noise he was studiously making +with the child, that he meant to avoid hearing her thanks, and rather sought to +testify that her conversation was the last of his wants, produced such a +confusion of varying, but very painful agitation, as she could not recover +from, till enabled by the entrance of Mary and the Miss Musgroves to make over +her little patient to their cares, and leave the room. She could not stay. It +might have been an opportunity of watching the loves and jealousies of the +four—they were now altogether; but she could stay for none of it. It was +evident that Charles Hayter was not well inclined towards Captain Wentworth. +She had a strong impression of his having said, in a vext tone of voice, after +Captain Wentworth’s interference, “You ought to have minded +<i>me</i>, Walter; I told you not to teaze your aunt;” and could +comprehend his regretting that Captain Wentworth should do what he ought to +have done himself. But neither Charles Hayter’s feelings, nor +anybody’s feelings, could interest her, till she had a little better +arranged her own. She was ashamed of herself, quite ashamed of being so +nervous, so overcome by such a trifle; but so it was, and it required a long +application of solitude and reflection to recover her. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<p> +Other opportunities of making her observations could not fail to occur. Anne +had soon been in company with all the four together often enough to have an +opinion, though too wise to acknowledge as much at home, where she knew it +would have satisfied neither husband nor wife; for while she considered Louisa +to be rather the favourite, she could not but think, as far as she might dare +to judge from memory and experience, that Captain Wentworth was not in love +with either. They were more in love with him; yet there it was not love. It was +a little fever of admiration; but it might, probably must, end in love with +some. Charles Hayter seemed aware of being slighted, and yet Henrietta had +sometimes the air of being divided between them. Anne longed for the power of +representing to them all what they were about, and of pointing out some of the +evils they were exposing themselves to. She did not attribute guile to any. It +was the highest satisfaction to her to believe Captain Wentworth not in the +least aware of the pain he was occasioning. There was no triumph, no pitiful +triumph in his manner. He had, probably, never heard, and never thought of any +claims of Charles Hayter. He was only wrong in accepting the attentions (for +accepting must be the word) of two young women at once. +</p> + +<p> +After a short struggle, however, Charles Hayter seemed to quit the field. Three +days had passed without his coming once to Uppercross; a most decided change. +He had even refused one regular invitation to dinner; and having been found on +the occasion by Mr Musgrove with some large books before him, Mr and Mrs +Musgrove were sure all could not be right, and talked, with grave faces, of his +studying himself to death. It was Mary’s hope and belief that he had +received a positive dismissal from Henrietta, and her husband lived under the +constant dependence of seeing him to-morrow. Anne could only feel that Charles +Hayter was wise. +</p> + +<p> +One morning, about this time Charles Musgrove and Captain Wentworth being gone +a-shooting together, as the sisters in the Cottage were sitting quietly at +work, they were visited at the window by the sisters from the Mansion-house. +</p> + +<p> +It was a very fine November day, and the Miss Musgroves came through the little +grounds, and stopped for no other purpose than to say, that they were going to +take a <i>long</i> walk, and, therefore, concluded Mary could not like to go +with them; and when Mary immediately replied, with some jealousy at not being +supposed a good walker, “Oh, yes, I should like to join you very much, I +am very fond of a long walk;” Anne felt persuaded, by the looks of the +two girls, that it was precisely what they did not wish, and admired again the +sort of necessity which the family habits seemed to produce, of everything +being to be communicated, and everything being to be done together, however +undesired and inconvenient. She tried to dissuade Mary from going, but in vain; +and that being the case, thought it best to accept the Miss Musgroves’ +much more cordial invitation to herself to go likewise, as she might be useful +in turning back with her sister, and lessening the interference in any plan of +their own. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot imagine why they should suppose I should not like a long +walk,” said Mary, as she went up stairs. “Everybody is always +supposing that I am not a good walker; and yet they would not have been +pleased, if we had refused to join them. When people come in this manner on +purpose to ask us, how can one say no?” +</p> + +<p> +Just as they were setting off, the gentlemen returned. They had taken out a +young dog, who had spoilt their sport, and sent them back early. Their time and +strength, and spirits, were, therefore, exactly ready for this walk, and they +entered into it with pleasure. Could Anne have foreseen such a junction, she +would have staid at home; but, from some feelings of interest and curiosity, +she fancied now that it was too late to retract, and the whole six set forward +together in the direction chosen by the Miss Musgroves, who evidently +considered the walk as under their guidance. +</p> + +<p> +Anne’s object was, not to be in the way of anybody; and where the narrow +paths across the fields made many separations necessary, to keep with her +brother and sister. Her <i>pleasure</i> in the walk must arise from the +exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year upon the +tawny leaves, and withered hedges, and from repeating to herself some few of +the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn, that season of peculiar +and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness, that season +which had drawn from every poet, worthy of being read, some attempt at +description, or some lines of feeling. She occupied her mind as much as +possible in such like musings and quotations; but it was not possible, that +when within reach of Captain Wentworth’s conversation with either of the +Miss Musgroves, she should not try to hear it; yet she caught little very +remarkable. It was mere lively chat, such as any young persons, on an intimate +footing, might fall into. He was more engaged with Louisa than with Henrietta. +Louisa certainly put more forward for his notice than her sister. This +distinction appeared to increase, and there was one speech of Louisa’s +which struck her. After one of the many praises of the day, which were +continually bursting forth, Captain Wentworth added:— +</p> + +<p> +“What glorious weather for the Admiral and my sister! They meant to take +a long drive this morning; perhaps we may hail them from some of these hills. +They talked of coming into this side of the country. I wonder whereabouts they +will upset to-day. Oh! it does happen very often, I assure you; but my sister +makes nothing of it; she would as lieve be tossed out as not.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! You make the most of it, I know,” cried Louisa, “but if +it were really so, I should do just the same in her place. If I loved a man, as +she loves the Admiral, I would always be with him, nothing should ever separate +us, and I would rather be overturned by him, than driven safely by anybody +else.” +</p> + +<p> +It was spoken with enthusiasm. +</p> + +<p> +“Had you?” cried he, catching the same tone; “I honour +you!” And there was silence between them for a little while. +</p> + +<p> +Anne could not immediately fall into a quotation again. The sweet scenes of +autumn were for a while put by, unless some tender sonnet, fraught with the apt +analogy of the declining year, with declining happiness, and the images of +youth and hope, and spring, all gone together, blessed her memory. She roused +herself to say, as they struck by order into another path, “Is not this +one of the ways to Winthrop?” But nobody heard, or, at least, nobody +answered her. +</p> + +<p> +Winthrop, however, or its environs—for young men are, sometimes to be met +with, strolling about near home—was their destination; and after another +half mile of gradual ascent through large enclosures, where the ploughs at +work, and the fresh made path spoke the farmer counteracting the sweets of +poetical despondence, and meaning to have spring again, they gained the summit +of the most considerable hill, which parted Uppercross and Winthrop, and soon +commanded a full view of the latter, at the foot of the hill on the other side. +</p> + +<p> +Winthrop, without beauty and without dignity, was stretched before them; an +indifferent house, standing low, and hemmed in by the barns and buildings of a +farm-yard. +</p> + +<p> +Mary exclaimed, “Bless me! here is Winthrop. I declare I had no idea! +Well now, I think we had better turn back; I am excessively tired.” +</p> + +<p> +Henrietta, conscious and ashamed, and seeing no cousin Charles walking along +any path, or leaning against any gate, was ready to do as Mary wished; but +“No!” said Charles Musgrove, and “No, no!” cried Louisa +more eagerly, and taking her sister aside, seemed to be arguing the matter +warmly. +</p> + +<p> +Charles, in the meanwhile, was very decidedly declaring his resolution of +calling on his aunt, now that he was so near; and very evidently, though more +fearfully, trying to induce his wife to go too. But this was one of the points +on which the lady shewed her strength; and when he recommended the advantage of +resting herself a quarter of an hour at Winthrop, as she felt so tired, she +resolutely answered, “Oh! no, indeed! walking up that hill again would do +her more harm than any sitting down could do her good;” and, in short, +her look and manner declared, that go she would not. +</p> + +<p> +After a little succession of these sort of debates and consultations, it was +settled between Charles and his two sisters, that he and Henrietta should just +run down for a few minutes, to see their aunt and cousins, while the rest of +the party waited for them at the top of the hill. Louisa seemed the principal +arranger of the plan; and, as she went a little way with them, down the hill, +still talking to Henrietta, Mary took the opportunity of looking scornfully +around her, and saying to Captain Wentworth— +</p> + +<p> +“It is very unpleasant, having such connexions! But, I assure you, I have +never been in the house above twice in my life.” +</p> + +<p> +She received no other answer, than an artificial, assenting smile, followed by +a contemptuous glance, as he turned away, which Anne perfectly knew the meaning +of. +</p> + +<p> +The brow of the hill, where they remained, was a cheerful spot: Louisa +returned; and Mary, finding a comfortable seat for herself on the step of a +stile, was very well satisfied so long as the others all stood about her; but +when Louisa drew Captain Wentworth away, to try for a gleaning of nuts in an +adjoining hedge-row, and they were gone by degrees quite out of sight and +sound, Mary was happy no longer; she quarrelled with her own seat, was sure +Louisa had got a much better somewhere, and nothing could prevent her from +going to look for a better also. She turned through the same gate, but could +not see them. Anne found a nice seat for her, on a dry sunny bank, under the +hedge-row, in which she had no doubt of their still being, in some spot or +other. Mary sat down for a moment, but it would not do; she was sure Louisa had +found a better seat somewhere else, and she would go on till she overtook her. +</p> + +<p> +Anne, really tired herself, was glad to sit down; and she very soon heard +Captain Wentworth and Louisa in the hedge-row, behind her, as if making their +way back along the rough, wild sort of channel, down the centre. They were +speaking as they drew near. Louisa’s voice was the first distinguished. +She seemed to be in the middle of some eager speech. What Anne first heard +was— +</p> + +<p> +“And so, I made her go. I could not bear that she should be frightened +from the visit by such nonsense. What! would I be turned back from doing a +thing that I had determined to do, and that I knew to be right, by the airs and +interference of such a person, or of any person I may say? No, I have no idea +of being so easily persuaded. When I have made up my mind, I have made it; and +Henrietta seemed entirely to have made up hers to call at Winthrop to-day; and +yet, she was as near giving it up, out of nonsensical complaisance!” +</p> + +<p> +“She would have turned back then, but for you?” +</p> + +<p> +“She would indeed. I am almost ashamed to say it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Happy for her, to have such a mind as yours at hand! After the hints you +gave just now, which did but confirm my own observations, the last time I was +in company with him, I need not affect to have no comprehension of what is +going on. I see that more than a mere dutiful morning visit to your aunt was in +question; and woe betide him, and her too, when it comes to things of +consequence, when they are placed in circumstances requiring fortitude and +strength of mind, if she have not resolution enough to resist idle interference +in such a trifle as this. Your sister is an amiable creature; but <i>yours</i> +is the character of decision and firmness, I see. If you value her conduct or +happiness, infuse as much of your own spirit into her as you can. But this, no +doubt, you have been always doing. It is the worst evil of too yielding and +indecisive a character, that no influence over it can be depended on. You are +never sure of a good impression being durable; everybody may sway it. Let those +who would be happy be firm. Here is a nut,” said he, catching one down +from an upper bough, “to exemplify: a beautiful glossy nut, which, +blessed with original strength, has outlived all the storms of autumn. Not a +puncture, not a weak spot anywhere. This nut,” he continued, with playful +solemnity, “while so many of his brethren have fallen and been trodden +under foot, is still in possession of all the happiness that a hazel nut can be +supposed capable of.” Then returning to his former earnest +tone—“My first wish for all whom I am interested in, is that they +should be firm. If Louisa Musgrove would be beautiful and happy in her November +of life, she will cherish all her present powers of mind.” +</p> + +<p> +He had done, and was unanswered. It would have surprised Anne if Louisa could +have readily answered such a speech: words of such interest, spoken with such +serious warmth! She could imagine what Louisa was feeling. For herself, she +feared to move, lest she should be seen. While she remained, a bush of low +rambling holly protected her, and they were moving on. Before they were beyond +her hearing, however, Louisa spoke again. +</p> + +<p> +“Mary is good-natured enough in many respects,” said she; +“but she does sometimes provoke me excessively, by her nonsense and +pride—the Elliot pride. She has a great deal too much of the Elliot +pride. We do so wish that Charles had married Anne instead. I suppose you know +he wanted to marry Anne?” +</p> + +<p> +After a moment’s pause, Captain Wentworth said— +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean that she refused him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! yes; certainly.” +</p> + +<p> +“When did that happen?” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not exactly know, for Henrietta and I were at school at the time; +but I believe about a year before he married Mary. I wish she had accepted him. +We should all have liked her a great deal better; and papa and mamma always +think it was her great friend Lady Russell’s doing, that she did not. +They think Charles might not be learned and bookish enough to please Lady +Russell, and that therefore, she persuaded Anne to refuse him.” +</p> + +<p> +The sounds were retreating, and Anne distinguished no more. Her own emotions +still kept her fixed. She had much to recover from, before she could move. The +listener’s proverbial fate was not absolutely hers; she had heard no evil +of herself, but she had heard a great deal of very painful import. She saw how +her own character was considered by Captain Wentworth, and there had been just +that degree of feeling and curiosity about her in his manner which must give +her extreme agitation. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as she could, she went after Mary, and having found, and walked back +with her to their former station, by the stile, felt some comfort in their +whole party being immediately afterwards collected, and once more in motion +together. Her spirits wanted the solitude and silence which only numbers could +give. +</p> + +<p> +Charles and Henrietta returned, bringing, as may be conjectured, Charles Hayter +with them. The minutiae of the business Anne could not attempt to understand; +even Captain Wentworth did not seem admitted to perfect confidence here; but +that there had been a withdrawing on the gentleman’s side, and a +relenting on the lady’s, and that they were now very glad to be together +again, did not admit a doubt. Henrietta looked a little ashamed, but very well +pleased;—Charles Hayter exceedingly happy: and they were devoted to each +other almost from the first instant of their all setting forward for +Uppercross. +</p> + +<p> +Everything now marked out Louisa for Captain Wentworth; nothing could be +plainer; and where many divisions were necessary, or even where they were not, +they walked side by side nearly as much as the other two. In a long strip of +meadow land, where there was ample space for all, they were thus divided, +forming three distinct parties; and to that party of the three which boasted +least animation, and least complaisance, Anne necessarily belonged. She joined +Charles and Mary, and was tired enough to be very glad of Charles’s other +arm; but Charles, though in very good humour with her, was out of temper with +his wife. Mary had shewn herself disobliging to him, and was now to reap the +consequence, which consequence was his dropping her arm almost every moment to +cut off the heads of some nettles in the hedge with his switch; and when Mary +began to complain of it, and lament her being ill-used, according to custom, in +being on the hedge side, while Anne was never incommoded on the other, he +dropped the arms of both to hunt after a weasel which he had a momentary glance +of, and they could hardly get him along at all. +</p> + +<p> +This long meadow bordered a lane, which their footpath, at the end of it was to +cross, and when the party had all reached the gate of exit, the carriage +advancing in the same direction, which had been some time heard, was just +coming up, and proved to be Admiral Croft’s gig. He and his wife had +taken their intended drive, and were returning home. Upon hearing how long a +walk the young people had engaged in, they kindly offered a seat to any lady +who might be particularly tired; it would save her a full mile, and they were +going through Uppercross. The invitation was general, and generally declined. +The Miss Musgroves were not at all tired, and Mary was either offended, by not +being asked before any of the others, or what Louisa called the Elliot pride +could not endure to make a third in a one horse chaise. +</p> + +<p> +The walking party had crossed the lane, and were surmounting an opposite stile, +and the Admiral was putting his horse in motion again, when Captain Wentworth +cleared the hedge in a moment to say something to his sister. The something +might be guessed by its effects. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Elliot, I am sure <i>you</i> are tired,” cried Mrs Croft. +“Do let us have the pleasure of taking you home. Here is excellent room +for three, I assure you. If we were all like you, I believe we might sit four. +You must, indeed, you must.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne was still in the lane; and though instinctively beginning to decline, she +was not allowed to proceed. The Admiral’s kind urgency came in support of +his wife’s; they would not be refused; they compressed themselves into +the smallest possible space to leave her a corner, and Captain Wentworth, +without saying a word, turned to her, and quietly obliged her to be assisted +into the carriage. +</p> + +<p> +Yes; he had done it. She was in the carriage, and felt that he had placed her +there, that his will and his hands had done it, that she owed it to his +perception of her fatigue, and his resolution to give her rest. She was very +much affected by the view of his disposition towards her, which all these +things made apparent. This little circumstance seemed the completion of all +that had gone before. She understood him. He could not forgive her, but he +could not be unfeeling. Though condemning her for the past, and considering it +with high and unjust resentment, though perfectly careless of her, and though +becoming attached to another, still he could not see her suffer, without the +desire of giving her relief. It was a remainder of former sentiment; it was an +impulse of pure, though unacknowledged friendship; it was a proof of his own +warm and amiable heart, which she could not contemplate without emotions so +compounded of pleasure and pain, that she knew not which prevailed. +</p> + +<p> +Her answers to the kindness and the remarks of her companions were at first +unconsciously given. They had travelled half their way along the rough lane, +before she was quite awake to what they said. She then found them talking of +“Frederick.” +</p> + +<p> +“He certainly means to have one or other of those two girls, +Sophy,” said the Admiral; “but there is no saying which. He has +been running after them, too, long enough, one would think, to make up his +mind. Ay, this comes of the peace. If it were war now, he would have settled it +long ago. We sailors, Miss Elliot, cannot afford to make long courtships in +time of war. How many days was it, my dear, between the first time of my seeing +you and our sitting down together in our lodgings at North Yarmouth?” +</p> + +<p> +“We had better not talk about it, my dear,” replied Mrs Croft, +pleasantly; “for if Miss Elliot were to hear how soon we came to an +understanding, she would never be persuaded that we could be happy together. I +had known you by character, however, long before.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, and I had heard of you as a very pretty girl, and what were we to +wait for besides? I do not like having such things so long in hand. I wish +Frederick would spread a little more canvass, and bring us home one of these +young ladies to Kellynch. Then there would always be company for them. And very +nice young ladies they both are; I hardly know one from the other.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good humoured, unaffected girls, indeed,” said Mrs Croft, in +a tone of calmer praise, such as made Anne suspect that her keener powers might +not consider either of them as quite worthy of her brother; “and a very +respectable family. One could not be connected with better people. My dear +Admiral, that post! we shall certainly take that post.” +</p> + +<p> +But by coolly giving the reins a better direction herself they happily passed +the danger; and by once afterwards judiciously putting out her hand they +neither fell into a rut, nor ran foul of a dung-cart; and Anne, with some +amusement at their style of driving, which she imagined no bad representation +of the general guidance of their affairs, found herself safely deposited by +them at the Cottage. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<p> +The time now approached for Lady Russell’s return: the day was even +fixed; and Anne, being engaged to join her as soon as she was resettled, was +looking forward to an early removal to Kellynch, and beginning to think how her +own comfort was likely to be affected by it. +</p> + +<p> +It would place her in the same village with Captain Wentworth, within half a +mile of him; they would have to frequent the same church, and there must be +intercourse between the two families. This was against her; but on the other +hand, he spent so much of his time at Uppercross, that in removing thence she +might be considered rather as leaving him behind, than as going towards him; +and, upon the whole, she believed she must, on this interesting question, be +the gainer, almost as certainly as in her change of domestic society, in +leaving poor Mary for Lady Russell. +</p> + +<p> +She wished it might be possible for her to avoid ever seeing Captain Wentworth +at the Hall: those rooms had witnessed former meetings which would be brought +too painfully before her; but she was yet more anxious for the possibility of +Lady Russell and Captain Wentworth never meeting anywhere. They did not like +each other, and no renewal of acquaintance now could do any good; and were Lady +Russell to see them together, she might think that he had too much +self-possession, and she too little. +</p> + +<p> +These points formed her chief solicitude in anticipating her removal from +Uppercross, where she felt she had been stationed quite long enough. Her +usefulness to little Charles would always give some sweetness to the memory of +her two months’ visit there, but he was gaining strength apace, and she +had nothing else to stay for. +</p> + +<p> +The conclusion of her visit, however, was diversified in a way which she had +not at all imagined. Captain Wentworth, after being unseen and unheard of at +Uppercross for two whole days, appeared again among them to justify himself by +a relation of what had kept him away. +</p> + +<p> +A letter from his friend, Captain Harville, having found him out at last, had +brought intelligence of Captain Harville’s being settled with his family +at Lyme for the winter; of their being therefore, quite unknowingly, within +twenty miles of each other. Captain Harville had never been in good health +since a severe wound which he received two years before, and Captain +Wentworth’s anxiety to see him had determined him to go immediately to +Lyme. He had been there for four-and-twenty hours. His acquittal was complete, +his friendship warmly honoured, a lively interest excited for his friend, and +his description of the fine country about Lyme so feelingly attended to by the +party, that an earnest desire to see Lyme themselves, and a project for going +thither was the consequence. +</p> + +<p> +The young people were all wild to see Lyme. Captain Wentworth talked of going +there again himself, it was only seventeen miles from Uppercross; though +November, the weather was by no means bad; and, in short, Louisa, who was the +most eager of the eager, having formed the resolution to go, and besides the +pleasure of doing as she liked, being now armed with the idea of merit in +maintaining her own way, bore down all the wishes of her father and mother for +putting it off till summer; and to Lyme they were to go—Charles, Mary, +Anne, Henrietta, Louisa, and Captain Wentworth. +</p> + +<p> +The first heedless scheme had been to go in the morning and return at night; +but to this Mr Musgrove, for the sake of his horses, would not consent; and +when it came to be rationally considered, a day in the middle of November would +not leave much time for seeing a new place, after deducting seven hours, as the +nature of the country required, for going and returning. They were, +consequently, to stay the night there, and not to be expected back till the +next day’s dinner. This was felt to be a considerable amendment; and +though they all met at the Great House at rather an early breakfast hour, and +set off very punctually, it was so much past noon before the two carriages, Mr +Musgrove’s coach containing the four ladies, and Charles’s +curricle, in which he drove Captain Wentworth, were descending the long hill +into Lyme, and entering upon the still steeper street of the town itself, that +it was very evident they would not have more than time for looking about them, +before the light and warmth of the day were gone. +</p> + +<p> +After securing accommodations, and ordering a dinner at one of the inns, the +next thing to be done was unquestionably to walk directly down to the sea. They +were come too late in the year for any amusement or variety which Lyme, as a +public place, might offer. The rooms were shut up, the lodgers almost all gone, +scarcely any family but of the residents left; and, as there is nothing to +admire in the buildings themselves, the remarkable situation of the town, the +principal street almost hurrying into the water, the walk to the Cobb, skirting +round the pleasant little bay, which, in the season, is animated with bathing +machines and company; the Cobb itself, its old wonders and new improvements, +with the very beautiful line of cliffs stretching out to the east of the town, +are what the stranger’s eye will seek; and a very strange stranger it +must be, who does not see charms in the immediate environs of Lyme, to make him +wish to know it better. The scenes in its neighbourhood, Charmouth, with its +high grounds and extensive sweeps of country, and still more, its sweet, +retired bay, backed by dark cliffs, where fragments of low rock among the +sands, make it the happiest spot for watching the flow of the tide, for sitting +in unwearied contemplation; the woody varieties of the cheerful village of Up +Lyme; and, above all, Pinny, with its green chasms between romantic rocks, +where the scattered forest trees and orchards of luxuriant growth, declare that +many a generation must have passed away since the first partial falling of the +cliff prepared the ground for such a state, where a scene so wonderful and so +lovely is exhibited, as may more than equal any of the resembling scenes of the +far-famed Isle of Wight: these places must be visited, and visited again, to +make the worth of Lyme understood. +</p> + +<p> +The party from Uppercross passing down by the now deserted and melancholy +looking rooms, and still descending, soon found themselves on the sea-shore; +and lingering only, as all must linger and gaze on a first return to the sea, +who ever deserved to look on it at all, proceeded towards the Cobb, equally +their object in itself and on Captain Wentworth’s account: for in a small +house, near the foot of an old pier of unknown date, were the Harvilles +settled. Captain Wentworth turned in to call on his friend; the others walked +on, and he was to join them on the Cobb. +</p> + +<p> +They were by no means tired of wondering and admiring; and not even Louisa +seemed to feel that they had parted with Captain Wentworth long, when they saw +him coming after them, with three companions, all well known already, by +description, to be Captain and Mrs Harville, and a Captain Benwick, who was +staying with them. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Benwick had some time ago been first lieutenant of the Laconia; and the +account which Captain Wentworth had given of him, on his return from Lyme +before, his warm praise of him as an excellent young man and an officer, whom +he had always valued highly, which must have stamped him well in the esteem of +every listener, had been followed by a little history of his private life, +which rendered him perfectly interesting in the eyes of all the ladies. He had +been engaged to Captain Harville’s sister, and was now mourning her loss. +They had been a year or two waiting for fortune and promotion. Fortune came, +his prize-money as lieutenant being great; promotion, too, came at <i>last;</i> +but Fanny Harville did not live to know it. She had died the preceding summer +while he was at sea. Captain Wentworth believed it impossible for man to be +more attached to woman than poor Benwick had been to Fanny Harville, or to be +more deeply afflicted under the dreadful change. He considered his disposition +as of the sort which must suffer heavily, uniting very strong feelings with +quiet, serious, and retiring manners, and a decided taste for reading, and +sedentary pursuits. To finish the interest of the story, the friendship between +him and the Harvilles seemed, if possible, augmented by the event which closed +all their views of alliance, and Captain Benwick was now living with them +entirely. Captain Harville had taken his present house for half a year; his +taste, and his health, and his fortune, all directing him to a residence +inexpensive, and by the sea; and the grandeur of the country, and the +retirement of Lyme in the winter, appeared exactly adapted to Captain +Benwick’s state of mind. The sympathy and good-will excited towards +Captain Benwick was very great. +</p> + +<p> +“And yet,” said Anne to herself, as they now moved forward to meet +the party, “he has not, perhaps, a more sorrowing heart than I have. I +cannot believe his prospects so blighted for ever. He is younger than I am; +younger in feeling, if not in fact; younger as a man. He will rally again, and +be happy with another.” +</p> + +<p> +They all met, and were introduced. Captain Harville was a tall, dark man, with +a sensible, benevolent countenance; a little lame; and from strong features and +want of health, looking much older than Captain Wentworth. Captain Benwick +looked, and was, the youngest of the three, and, compared with either of them, +a little man. He had a pleasing face and a melancholy air, just as he ought to +have, and drew back from conversation. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Harville, though not equalling Captain Wentworth in manners, was a +perfect gentleman, unaffected, warm, and obliging. Mrs Harville, a degree less +polished than her husband, seemed, however, to have the same good feelings; and +nothing could be more pleasant than their desire of considering the whole party +as friends of their own, because the friends of Captain Wentworth, or more +kindly hospitable than their entreaties for their all promising to dine with +them. The dinner, already ordered at the inn, was at last, though unwillingly, +accepted as a excuse; but they seemed almost hurt that Captain Wentworth should +have brought any such party to Lyme, without considering it as a thing of +course that they should dine with them. +</p> + +<p> +There was so much attachment to Captain Wentworth in all this, and such a +bewitching charm in a degree of hospitality so uncommon, so unlike the usual +style of give-and-take invitations, and dinners of formality and display, that +Anne felt her spirits not likely to be benefited by an increasing acquaintance +among his brother-officers. “These would have been all my friends,” +was her thought; and she had to struggle against a great tendency to lowness. +</p> + +<p> +On quitting the Cobb, they all went in-doors with their new friends, and found +rooms so small as none but those who invite from the heart could think capable +of accommodating so many. Anne had a moment’s astonishment on the subject +herself; but it was soon lost in the pleasanter feelings which sprang from the +sight of all the ingenious contrivances and nice arrangements of Captain +Harville, to turn the actual space to the best account, to supply the +deficiencies of lodging-house furniture, and defend the windows and doors +against the winter storms to be expected. The varieties in the fitting-up of +the rooms, where the common necessaries provided by the owner, in the common +indifferent plight, were contrasted with some few articles of a rare species of +wood, excellently worked up, and with something curious and valuable from all +the distant countries Captain Harville had visited, were more than amusing to +Anne; connected as it all was with his profession, the fruit of its labours, +the effect of its influence on his habits, the picture of repose and domestic +happiness it presented, made it to her a something more, or less, than +gratification. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Harville was no reader; but he had contrived excellent accommodations, +and fashioned very pretty shelves, for a tolerable collection of well-bound +volumes, the property of Captain Benwick. His lameness prevented him from +taking much exercise; but a mind of usefulness and ingenuity seemed to furnish +him with constant employment within. He drew, he varnished, he carpentered, he +glued; he made toys for the children; he fashioned new netting-needles and pins +with improvements; and if everything else was done, sat down to his large +fishing-net at one corner of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Anne thought she left great happiness behind her when they quitted the house; +and Louisa, by whom she found herself walking, burst forth into raptures of +admiration and delight on the character of the navy; their friendliness, their +brotherliness, their openness, their uprightness; protesting that she was +convinced of sailors having more worth and warmth than any other set of men in +England; that they only knew how to live, and they only deserved to be +respected and loved. +</p> + +<p> +They went back to dress and dine; and so well had the scheme answered already, +that nothing was found amiss; though its being “so entirely out of +season,” and the “no thoroughfare of Lyme,” and the “no +expectation of company,” had brought many apologies from the heads of the +inn. +</p> + +<p> +Anne found herself by this time growing so much more hardened to being in +Captain Wentworth’s company than she had at first imagined could ever be, +that the sitting down to the same table with him now, and the interchange of +the common civilities attending on it (they never got beyond), was become a +mere nothing. +</p> + +<p> +The nights were too dark for the ladies to meet again till the morrow, but +Captain Harville had promised them a visit in the evening; and he came, +bringing his friend also, which was more than had been expected, it having been +agreed that Captain Benwick had all the appearance of being oppressed by the +presence of so many strangers. He ventured among them again, however, though +his spirits certainly did not seem fit for the mirth of the party in general. +</p> + +<p> +While Captains Wentworth and Harville led the talk on one side of the room, and +by recurring to former days, supplied anecdotes in abundance to occupy and +entertain the others, it fell to Anne’s lot to be placed rather apart +with Captain Benwick; and a very good impulse of her nature obliged her to +begin an acquaintance with him. He was shy, and disposed to abstraction; but +the engaging mildness of her countenance, and gentleness of her manners, soon +had their effect; and Anne was well repaid the first trouble of exertion. He +was evidently a young man of considerable taste in reading, though principally +in poetry; and besides the persuasion of having given him at least an +evening’s indulgence in the discussion of subjects, which his usual +companions had probably no concern in, she had the hope of being of real use to +him in some suggestions as to the duty and benefit of struggling against +affliction, which had naturally grown out of their conversation. For, though +shy, he did not seem reserved; it had rather the appearance of feelings glad to +burst their usual restraints; and having talked of poetry, the richness of the +present age, and gone through a brief comparison of opinion as to the +first-rate poets, trying to ascertain whether <i>Marmion</i> or <i>The Lady of +the Lake</i> were to be preferred, and how ranked the <i>Giaour</i> and <i>The +Bride of Abydos;</i> and moreover, how the <i>Giaour</i> was to be pronounced, +he showed himself so intimately acquainted with all the tenderest songs of the +one poet, and all the impassioned descriptions of hopeless agony of the other; +he repeated, with such tremulous feeling, the various lines which imaged a +broken heart, or a mind destroyed by wretchedness, and looked so entirely as if +he meant to be understood, that she ventured to hope he did not always read +only poetry, and to say, that she thought it was the misfortune of poetry to be +seldom safely enjoyed by those who enjoyed it completely; and that the strong +feelings which alone could estimate it truly were the very feelings which ought +to taste it but sparingly. +</p> + +<p> +His looks shewing him not pained, but pleased with this allusion to his +situation, she was emboldened to go on; and feeling in herself the right of +seniority of mind, she ventured to recommend a larger allowance of prose in his +daily study; and on being requested to particularize, mentioned such works of +our best moralists, such collections of the finest letters, such memoirs of +characters of worth and suffering, as occurred to her at the moment as +calculated to rouse and fortify the mind by the highest precepts, and the +strongest examples of moral and religious endurances. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Benwick listened attentively, and seemed grateful for the interest +implied; and though with a shake of the head, and sighs which declared his +little faith in the efficacy of any books on grief like his, noted down the +names of those she recommended, and promised to procure and read them. +</p> + +<p> +When the evening was over, Anne could not but be amused at the idea of her +coming to Lyme to preach patience and resignation to a young man whom she had +never seen before; nor could she help fearing, on more serious reflection, +that, like many other great moralists and preachers, she had been eloquent on a +point in which her own conduct would ill bear examination. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<p> +Anne and Henrietta, finding themselves the earliest of the party the next +morning, agreed to stroll down to the sea before breakfast. They went to the +sands, to watch the flowing of the tide, which a fine south-easterly breeze was +bringing in with all the grandeur which so flat a shore admitted. They praised +the morning; gloried in the sea; sympathized in the delight of the +fresh-feeling breeze—and were silent; till Henrietta suddenly began again +with— +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! yes,—I am quite convinced that, with very few exceptions, the +sea-air always does good. There can be no doubt of its having been of the +greatest service to Dr Shirley, after his illness, last spring twelvemonth. He +declares himself, that coming to Lyme for a month, did him more good than all +the medicine he took; and that being by the sea always makes him feel young +again. Now, I cannot help thinking it a pity that he does not live entirely by +the sea. I do think he had better leave Uppercross entirely, and fix at Lyme. +Do not you, Anne? Do not you agree with me, that it is the best thing he could +do, both for himself and Mrs Shirley? She has cousins here, you know, and many +acquaintance, which would make it cheerful for her, and I am sure she would be +glad to get to a place where she could have medical attendance at hand, in case +of his having another seizure. Indeed I think it quite melancholy to have such +excellent people as Dr and Mrs Shirley, who have been doing good all their +lives, wearing out their last days in a place like Uppercross, where, excepting +our family, they seem shut out from all the world. I wish his friends would +propose it to him. I really think they ought. And, as to procuring a +dispensation, there could be no difficulty at his time of life, and with his +character. My only doubt is, whether anything could persuade him to leave his +parish. He is so very strict and scrupulous in his notions; over-scrupulous I +must say. Do not you think, Anne, it is being over-scrupulous? Do not you think +it is quite a mistaken point of conscience, when a clergyman sacrifices his +health for the sake of duties, which may be just as well performed by another +person? And at Lyme too, only seventeen miles off, he would be near enough to +hear, if people thought there was anything to complain of.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne smiled more than once to herself during this speech, and entered into the +subject, as ready to do good by entering into the feelings of a young lady as +of a young man, though here it was good of a lower standard, for what could be +offered but general acquiescence? She said all that was reasonable and proper +on the business; felt the claims of Dr Shirley to repose as she ought; saw how +very desirable it was that he should have some active, respectable young man +as a resident curate, and was even courteous enough to hint at the advantage of +such resident curate’s being married. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish,” said Henrietta, very well pleased with her companion, +“I wish Lady Russell lived at Uppercross, and were intimate with Dr +Shirley. I have always heard of Lady Russell as a woman of the greatest +influence with everybody! I always look upon her as able to persuade a person +to anything! I am afraid of her, as I have told you before, quite afraid of +her, because she is so very clever; but I respect her amazingly, and wish we +had such a neighbour at Uppercross.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne was amused by Henrietta’s manner of being grateful, and amused also +that the course of events and the new interests of Henrietta’s views +should have placed her friend at all in favour with any of the Musgrove family; +she had only time, however, for a general answer, and a wish that such another +woman were at Uppercross, before all subjects suddenly ceased, on seeing Louisa +and Captain Wentworth coming towards them. They came also for a stroll till +breakfast was likely to be ready; but Louisa recollecting immediately +afterwards that she had something to procure at a shop, invited them all to go +back with her into the town. They were all at her disposal. +</p> + +<p> +When they came to the steps, leading upwards from the beach, a gentleman, at +the same moment preparing to come down, politely drew back, and stopped to give +them way. They ascended and passed him; and as they passed, Anne’s face +caught his eye, and he looked at her with a degree of earnest admiration, which +she could not be insensible of. She was looking remarkably well; her very +regular, very pretty features, having the bloom and freshness of youth restored +by the fine wind which had been blowing on her complexion, and by the animation +of eye which it had also produced. It was evident that the gentleman, +(completely a gentleman in manner) admired her exceedingly. Captain Wentworth +looked round at her instantly in a way which shewed his noticing of it. He gave +her a momentary glance, a glance of brightness, which seemed to say, +“That man is struck with you, and even I, at this moment, see something +like Anne Elliot again.” +</p> + +<p> +After attending Louisa through her business, and loitering about a little +longer, they returned to the inn; and Anne, in passing afterwards quickly from +her own chamber to their dining-room, had nearly run against the very same +gentleman, as he came out of an adjoining apartment. She had before conjectured +him to be a stranger like themselves, and determined that a well-looking groom, +who was strolling about near the two inns as they came back, should be his +servant. Both master and man being in mourning assisted the idea. It was now +proved that he belonged to the same inn as themselves; and this second meeting, +short as it was, also proved again by the gentleman’s looks, that he +thought hers very lovely, and by the readiness and propriety of his apologies, +that he was a man of exceedingly good manners. He seemed about thirty, and +though not handsome, had an agreeable person. Anne felt that she should like to +know who he was. +</p> + +<p> +They had nearly done breakfast, when the sound of a carriage, (almost the first +they had heard since entering Lyme) drew half the party to the window. It was a +gentleman’s carriage, a curricle, but only coming round from the +stable-yard to the front door; somebody must be going away. It was driven by a +servant in mourning. +</p> + +<p> +The word curricle made Charles Musgrove jump up that he might compare it with +his own; the servant in mourning roused Anne’s curiosity, and the whole +six were collected to look, by the time the owner of the curricle was to be +seen issuing from the door amidst the bows and civilities of the household, and +taking his seat, to drive off. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” cried Captain Wentworth, instantly, and with half a glance at +Anne, “it is the very man we passed.” +</p> + +<p> +The Miss Musgroves agreed to it; and having all kindly watched him as far up +the hill as they could, they returned to the breakfast table. The waiter came +into the room soon afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +“Pray,” said Captain Wentworth, immediately, “can you tell us +the name of the gentleman who is just gone away?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sir, a Mr Elliot, a gentleman of large fortune, came in last night +from Sidmouth. Dare say you heard the carriage, sir, while you were at dinner; +and going on now for Crewkherne, in his way to Bath and London.” +</p> + +<p> +“Elliot!” Many had looked on each other, and many had repeated the +name, before all this had been got through, even by the smart rapidity of a +waiter. +</p> + +<p> +“Bless me!” cried Mary; “it must be our cousin; it must be +our Mr Elliot, it must, indeed! Charles, Anne, must not it? In mourning, you +see, just as our Mr Elliot must be. How very extraordinary! In the very same +inn with us! Anne, must not it be our Mr Elliot? my father’s next heir? +Pray sir,” turning to the waiter, “did not you hear, did not his +servant say whether he belonged to the Kellynch family?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, ma’am, he did not mention no particular family; but he said +his master was a very rich gentleman, and would be a baronight some day.” +</p> + +<p> +“There! you see!” cried Mary in an ecstasy, “just as I said! +Heir to Sir Walter Elliot! I was sure that would come out, if it was so. Depend +upon it, that is a circumstance which his servants take care to publish, +wherever he goes. But, Anne, only conceive how extraordinary! I wish I had +looked at him more. I wish we had been aware in time, who it was, that he might +have been introduced to us. What a pity that we should not have been introduced +to each other! Do you think he had the Elliot countenance? I hardly looked at +him, I was looking at the horses; but I think he had something of the Elliot +countenance, I wonder the arms did not strike me! Oh! the great-coat was +hanging over the panel, and hid the arms, so it did; otherwise, I am sure, I +should have observed them, and the livery too; if the servant had not been in +mourning, one should have known him by the livery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Putting all these very extraordinary circumstances together,” said +Captain Wentworth, “we must consider it to be the arrangement of +Providence, that you should not be introduced to your cousin.” +</p> + +<p> +When she could command Mary’s attention, Anne quietly tried to convince +her that their father and Mr Elliot had not, for many years, been on such terms +as to make the power of attempting an introduction at all desirable. +</p> + +<p> +At the same time, however, it was a secret gratification to herself to have +seen her cousin, and to know that the future owner of Kellynch was undoubtedly +a gentleman, and had an air of good sense. She would not, upon any account, +mention her having met with him the second time; luckily Mary did not much +attend to their having passed close by him in their earlier walk, but she would +have felt quite ill-used by Anne’s having actually run against him in the +passage, and received his very polite excuses, while she had never been near +him at all; no, that cousinly little interview must remain a perfect secret. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” said Mary, “you will mention our seeing Mr +Elliot, the next time you write to Bath. I think my father certainly ought to +hear of it; do mention all about him.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne avoided a direct reply, but it was just the circumstance which she +considered as not merely unnecessary to be communicated, but as what ought to +be suppressed. The offence which had been given her father, many years back, +she knew; Elizabeth’s particular share in it she suspected; and that Mr +Elliot’s idea always produced irritation in both was beyond a doubt. Mary +never wrote to Bath herself; all the toil of keeping up a slow and +unsatisfactory correspondence with Elizabeth fell on Anne. +</p> + +<p> +Breakfast had not been long over, when they were joined by Captain and Mrs +Harville and Captain Benwick; with whom they had appointed to take their last +walk about Lyme. They ought to be setting off for Uppercross by one, and in the +meanwhile were to be all together, and out of doors as long as they could. +</p> + +<p> +Anne found Captain Benwick getting near her, as soon as they were all fairly in +the street. Their conversation the preceding evening did not disincline him to +seek her again; and they walked together some time, talking as before of Mr +Scott and Lord Byron, and still as unable as before, and as unable as any other +two readers, to think exactly alike of the merits of either, till something +occasioned an almost general change amongst their party, and instead of Captain +Benwick, she had Captain Harville by her side. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Elliot,” said he, speaking rather low, “you have done a +good deed in making that poor fellow talk so much. I wish he could have such +company oftener. It is bad for him, I know, to be shut up as he is; but what +can we do? We cannot part.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Anne, “that I can easily believe to be impossible; +but in time, perhaps—we know what time does in every case of affliction, +and you must remember, Captain Harville, that your friend may yet be called a +young mourner—only last summer, I understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, true enough,” (with a deep sigh) “only June.” +</p> + +<p> +“And not known to him, perhaps, so soon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not till the first week of August, when he came home from the Cape, just +made into the Grappler. I was at Plymouth dreading to hear of him; he sent in +letters, but the Grappler was under orders for Portsmouth. There the news must +follow him, but who was to tell it? not I. I would as soon have been run up to +the yard-arm. Nobody could do it, but that good fellow” (pointing to +Captain Wentworth). “The Laconia had come into Plymouth the week before; +no danger of her being sent to sea again. He stood his chance for the rest; +wrote up for leave of absence, but without waiting the return, travelled night +and day till he got to Portsmouth, rowed off to the Grappler that instant, and +never left the poor fellow for a week. That’s what he did, and nobody +else could have saved poor James. You may think, Miss Elliot, whether he is +dear to us!” +</p> + +<p> +Anne did think on the question with perfect decision, and said as much in reply +as her own feeling could accomplish, or as his seemed able to bear, for he was +too much affected to renew the subject, and when he spoke again, it was of +something totally different. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Harville’s giving it as her opinion that her husband would have quite +walking enough by the time he reached home, determined the direction of all the +party in what was to be their last walk; they would accompany them to their +door, and then return and set off themselves. By all their calculations there +was just time for this; but as they drew near the Cobb, there was such a +general wish to walk along it once more, all were so inclined, and Louisa soon +grew so determined, that the difference of a quarter of an hour, it was found, +would be no difference at all; so with all the kind leave-taking, and all the +kind interchange of invitations and promises which may be imagined, they parted +from Captain and Mrs Harville at their own door, and still accompanied by +Captain Benwick, who seemed to cling to them to the last, proceeded to make the +proper adieus to the Cobb. +</p> + +<p> +Anne found Captain Benwick again drawing near her. Lord Byron’s +“dark blue seas” could not fail of being brought forward by their +present view, and she gladly gave him all her attention as long as attention +was possible. It was soon drawn, perforce another way. +</p> + +<p> +There was too much wind to make the high part of the new Cobb pleasant for the +ladies, and they agreed to get down the steps to the lower, and all were +contented to pass quietly and carefully down the steep flight, excepting +Louisa; she must be jumped down them by Captain Wentworth. In all their walks, +he had had to jump her from the stiles; the sensation was delightful to her. +The hardness of the pavement for her feet, made him less willing upon the +present occasion; he did it, however. She was safely down, and instantly, to +show her enjoyment, ran up the steps to be jumped down again. He advised her +against it, thought the jar too great; but no, he reasoned and talked in vain, +she smiled and said, “I am determined I will:” he put out his +hands; she was too precipitate by half a second, she fell on the pavement on +the Lower Cobb, and was taken up lifeless! There was no wound, no blood, no +visible bruise; but her eyes were closed, she breathed not, her face was like +death. The horror of the moment to all who stood around! +</p> + +<p> +Captain Wentworth, who had caught her up, knelt with her in his arms, looking +on her with a face as pallid as her own, in an agony of silence. “She is +dead! she is dead!” screamed Mary, catching hold of her husband, and +contributing with his own horror to make him immoveable; and in another moment, +Henrietta, sinking under the conviction, lost her senses too, and would have +fallen on the steps, but for Captain Benwick and Anne, who caught and supported +her between them. +</p> + +<p> +“Is there no one to help me?” were the first words which burst from +Captain Wentworth, in a tone of despair, and as if all his own strength were +gone. +</p> + +<p> +“Go to him, go to him,” cried Anne, “for heaven’s sake +go to him. I can support her myself. Leave me, and go to him. Rub her hands, +rub her temples; here are salts; take them, take them.” +</p> + +<p> +Captain Benwick obeyed, and Charles at the same moment, disengaging himself +from his wife, they were both with him; and Louisa was raised up and supported +more firmly between them, and everything was done that Anne had prompted, but +in vain; while Captain Wentworth, staggering against the wall for his support, +exclaimed in the bitterest agony— +</p> + +<p> +“Oh God! her father and mother!” +</p> + +<p> +“A surgeon!” said Anne. +</p> + +<p> +He caught the word; it seemed to rouse him at once, and saying +only—“True, true, a surgeon this instant,” was darting away, +when Anne eagerly suggested— +</p> + +<p> +“Captain Benwick, would not it be better for Captain Benwick? He knows +where a surgeon is to be found.” +</p> + +<p> +Every one capable of thinking felt the advantage of the idea, and in a moment +(it was all done in rapid moments) Captain Benwick had resigned the poor +corpse-like figure entirely to the brother’s care, and was off for the +town with the utmost rapidity. +</p> + +<p> +As to the wretched party left behind, it could scarcely be said which of the +three, who were completely rational, was suffering most: Captain Wentworth, +Anne, or Charles, who, really a very affectionate brother, hung over Louisa +with sobs of grief, and could only turn his eyes from one sister, to see the +other in a state as insensible, or to witness the hysterical agitations of his +wife, calling on him for help which he could not give. +</p> + +<p> +Anne, attending with all the strength and zeal, and thought, which instinct +supplied, to Henrietta, still tried, at intervals, to suggest comfort to the +others, tried to quiet Mary, to animate Charles, to assuage the feelings of +Captain Wentworth. Both seemed to look to her for directions. +</p> + +<p> +“Anne, Anne,” cried Charles, “What is to be done next? What, +in heaven’s name, is to be done next?” +</p> + +<p> +Captain Wentworth’s eyes were also turned towards her. +</p> + +<p> +“Had not she better be carried to the inn? Yes, I am sure: carry her +gently to the inn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, to the inn,” repeated Captain Wentworth, comparatively +collected, and eager to be doing something. “I will carry her myself. +Musgrove, take care of the others.” +</p> + +<p> +By this time the report of the accident had spread among the workmen and +boatmen about the Cobb, and many were collected near them, to be useful if +wanted, at any rate, to enjoy the sight of a dead young lady, nay, two dead +young ladies, for it proved twice as fine as the first report. To some of the +best-looking of these good people Henrietta was consigned, for, though +partially revived, she was quite helpless; and in this manner, Anne walking by +her side, and Charles attending to his wife, they set forward, treading back +with feelings unutterable, the ground, which so lately, so very lately, and so +light of heart, they had passed along. +</p> + +<p> +They were not off the Cobb, before the Harvilles met them. Captain Benwick had +been seen flying by their house, with a countenance which showed something to +be wrong; and they had set off immediately, informed and directed as they +passed, towards the spot. Shocked as Captain Harville was, he brought senses +and nerves that could be instantly useful; and a look between him and his wife +decided what was to be done. She must be taken to their house; all must go to +their house; and await the surgeon’s arrival there. They would not listen +to scruples: he was obeyed; they were all beneath his roof; and while Louisa, +under Mrs Harville’s direction, was conveyed up stairs, and given +possession of her own bed, assistance, cordials, restoratives were supplied by +her husband to all who needed them. +</p> + +<p> +Louisa had once opened her eyes, but soon closed them again, without apparent +consciousness. This had been a proof of life, however, of service to her +sister; and Henrietta, though perfectly incapable of being in the same room +with Louisa, was kept, by the agitation of hope and fear, from a return of her +own insensibility. Mary, too, was growing calmer. +</p> + +<p> +The surgeon was with them almost before it had seemed possible. They were sick +with horror, while he examined; but he was not hopeless. The head had received +a severe contusion, but he had seen greater injuries recovered from: he was by +no means hopeless; he spoke cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +That he did not regard it as a desperate case, that he did not say a few hours +must end it, was at first felt, beyond the hope of most; and the ecstasy of +such a reprieve, the rejoicing, deep and silent, after a few fervent +ejaculations of gratitude to Heaven had been offered, may be conceived. +</p> + +<p> +The tone, the look, with which “Thank God!” was uttered by Captain +Wentworth, Anne was sure could never be forgotten by her; nor the sight of him +afterwards, as he sat near a table, leaning over it with folded arms and face +concealed, as if overpowered by the various feelings of his soul, and trying by +prayer and reflection to calm them. +</p> + +<p> +Louisa’s limbs had escaped. There was no injury but to the head. +</p> + +<p> +It now became necessary for the party to consider what was best to be done, as +to their general situation. They were now able to speak to each other and +consult. That Louisa must remain where she was, however distressing to her +friends to be involving the Harvilles in such trouble, did not admit a doubt. +Her removal was impossible. The Harvilles silenced all scruples; and, as much +as they could, all gratitude. They had looked forward and arranged everything +before the others began to reflect. Captain Benwick must give up his room to +them, and get another bed elsewhere; and the whole was settled. They were only +concerned that the house could accommodate no more; and yet perhaps, by +“putting the children away in the maid’s room, or swinging a cot +somewhere,” they could hardly bear to think of not finding room for two +or three besides, supposing they might wish to stay; though, with regard to any +attendance on Miss Musgrove, there need not be the least uneasiness in leaving +her to Mrs Harville’s care entirely. Mrs Harville was a very experienced +nurse, and her nursery-maid, who had lived with her long, and gone about with +her everywhere, was just such another. Between these two, she could want no +possible attendance by day or night. And all this was said with a truth and +sincerity of feeling irresistible. +</p> + +<p> +Charles, Henrietta, and Captain Wentworth were the three in consultation, and +for a little while it was only an interchange of perplexity and terror. +“Uppercross, the necessity of some one’s going to Uppercross; the +news to be conveyed; how it could be broken to Mr and Mrs Musgrove; the +lateness of the morning; an hour already gone since they ought to have been +off; the impossibility of being in tolerable time.” At first, they were +capable of nothing more to the purpose than such exclamations; but, after a +while, Captain Wentworth, exerting himself, said— +</p> + +<p> +“We must be decided, and without the loss of another minute. Every minute +is valuable. Some one must resolve on being off for Uppercross instantly. +Musgrove, either you or I must go.” +</p> + +<p> +Charles agreed, but declared his resolution of not going away. He would be as +little incumbrance as possible to Captain and Mrs Harville; but as to leaving +his sister in such a state, he neither ought, nor would. So far it was decided; +and Henrietta at first declared the same. She, however, was soon persuaded to +think differently. The usefulness of her staying! She who had not been able to +remain in Louisa’s room, or to look at her, without sufferings which made +her worse than helpless! She was forced to acknowledge that she could do no +good, yet was still unwilling to be away, till, touched by the thought of her +father and mother, she gave it up; she consented, she was anxious to be at +home. +</p> + +<p> +The plan had reached this point, when Anne, coming quietly down from +Louisa’s room, could not but hear what followed, for the parlour door was +open. +</p> + +<p> +“Then it is settled, Musgrove,” cried Captain Wentworth, +“that you stay, and that I take care of your sister home. But as to the +rest, as to the others, if one stays to assist Mrs Harville, I think it need be +only one. Mrs Charles Musgrove will, of course, wish to get back to her +children; but if Anne will stay, no one so proper, so capable as Anne.” +</p> + +<p> +She paused a moment to recover from the emotion of hearing herself so spoken +of. The other two warmly agreed with what he said, and she then appeared. +</p> + +<p> +“You will stay, I am sure; you will stay and nurse her;” cried he, +turning to her and speaking with a glow, and yet a gentleness, which seemed +almost restoring the past. She coloured deeply, and he recollected himself and +moved away. She expressed herself most willing, ready, happy to remain. +“It was what she had been thinking of, and wishing to be allowed to do. A +bed on the floor in Louisa’s room would be sufficient for her, if Mrs +Harville would but think so.” +</p> + +<p> +One thing more, and all seemed arranged. Though it was rather desirable that Mr +and Mrs Musgrove should be previously alarmed by some share of delay; yet the +time required by the Uppercross horses to take them back, would be a dreadful +extension of suspense; and Captain Wentworth proposed, and Charles Musgrove +agreed, that it would be much better for him to take a chaise from the inn, and +leave Mr Musgrove’s carriage and horses to be sent home the next morning +early, when there would be the farther advantage of sending an account of +Louisa’s night. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Wentworth now hurried off to get everything ready on his part, and to +be soon followed by the two ladies. When the plan was made known to Mary, +however, there was an end of all peace in it. She was so wretched and so +vehement, complained so much of injustice in being expected to go away instead +of Anne; Anne, who was nothing to Louisa, while she was her sister, and had the +best right to stay in Henrietta’s stead! Why was not she to be as useful +as Anne? And to go home without Charles, too, without her husband! No, it was +too unkind. And in short, she said more than her husband could long withstand, +and as none of the others could oppose when he gave way, there was no help for +it; the change of Mary for Anne was inevitable. +</p> + +<p> +Anne had never submitted more reluctantly to the jealous and ill-judging claims +of Mary; but so it must be, and they set off for the town, Charles taking care +of his sister, and Captain Benwick attending to her. She gave a moment’s +recollection, as they hurried along, to the little circumstances which the same +spots had witnessed earlier in the morning. There she had listened to +Henrietta’s schemes for Dr Shirley’s leaving Uppercross; farther +on, she had first seen Mr Elliot; a moment seemed all that could now be given +to any one but Louisa, or those who were wrapped up in her welfare. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Benwick was most considerately attentive to her; and, united as they +all seemed by the distress of the day, she felt an increasing degree of +good-will towards him, and a pleasure even in thinking that it might, perhaps, +be the occasion of continuing their acquaintance. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Wentworth was on the watch for them, and a chaise and four in waiting, +stationed for their convenience in the lowest part of the street; but his +evident surprise and vexation at the substitution of one sister for the other, +the change in his countenance, the astonishment, the expressions begun and +suppressed, with which Charles was listened to, made but a mortifying reception +of Anne; or must at least convince her that she was valued only as she could be +useful to Louisa. +</p> + +<p> +She endeavoured to be composed, and to be just. Without emulating the feelings +of an Emma towards her Henry, she would have attended on Louisa with a zeal +above the common claims of regard, for his sake; and she hoped he would not +long be so unjust as to suppose she would shrink unnecessarily from the office +of a friend. +</p> + +<p> +In the meanwhile she was in the carriage. He had handed them both in, and +placed himself between them; and in this manner, under these circumstances, +full of astonishment and emotion to Anne, she quitted Lyme. How the long stage +would pass; how it was to affect their manners; what was to be their sort of +intercourse, she could not foresee. It was all quite natural, however. He was +devoted to Henrietta; always turning towards her; and when he spoke at all, +always with the view of supporting her hopes and raising her spirits. In +general, his voice and manner were studiously calm. To spare Henrietta from +agitation seemed the governing principle. Once only, when she had been grieving +over the last ill-judged, ill-fated walk to the Cobb, bitterly lamenting that +it ever had been thought of, he burst forth, as if wholly overcome— +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t talk of it, don’t talk of it,” he cried. +“Oh God! that I had not given way to her at the fatal moment! Had I done +as I ought! But so eager and so resolute! Dear, sweet Louisa!” +</p> + +<p> +Anne wondered whether it ever occurred to him now, to question the justness of +his own previous opinion as to the universal felicity and advantage of firmness +of character; and whether it might not strike him that, like all other +qualities of the mind, it should have its proportions and limits. She thought +it could scarcely escape him to feel that a persuadable temper might sometimes +be as much in favour of happiness as a very resolute character. +</p> + +<p> +They got on fast. Anne was astonished to recognise the same hills and the same +objects so soon. Their actual speed, heightened by some dread of the +conclusion, made the road appear but half as long as on the day before. It was +growing quite dusk, however, before they were in the neighbourhood of +Uppercross, and there had been total silence among them for some time, +Henrietta leaning back in the corner, with a shawl over her face, giving the +hope of her having cried herself to sleep; when, as they were going up their +last hill, Anne found herself all at once addressed by Captain Wentworth. In a +low, cautious voice, he said:— +</p> + +<p> +“I have been considering what we had best do. She must not appear at +first. She could not stand it. I have been thinking whether you had not better +remain in the carriage with her, while I go in and break it to Mr and Mrs +Musgrove. Do you think this is a good plan?” +</p> + +<p> +She did: he was satisfied, and said no more. But the remembrance of the appeal +remained a pleasure to her, as a proof of friendship, and of deference for her +judgement, a great pleasure; and when it became a sort of parting proof, its +value did not lessen. +</p> + +<p> +When the distressing communication at Uppercross was over, and he had seen the +father and mother quite as composed as could be hoped, and the daughter all the +better for being with them, he announced his intention of returning in the same +carriage to Lyme; and when the horses were baited, he was off. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +(End of volume one.) +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<p> +The remainder of Anne’s time at Uppercross, comprehending only two days, +was spent entirely at the Mansion House; and she had the satisfaction of +knowing herself extremely useful there, both as an immediate companion, and as +assisting in all those arrangements for the future, which, in Mr and Mrs +Musgrove’s distressed state of spirits, would have been difficulties. +</p> + +<p> +They had an early account from Lyme the next morning. Louisa was much the same. +No symptoms worse than before had appeared. Charles came a few hours +afterwards, to bring a later and more particular account. He was tolerably +cheerful. A speedy cure must not be hoped, but everything was going on as well +as the nature of the case admitted. In speaking of the Harvilles, he seemed +unable to satisfy his own sense of their kindness, especially of Mrs +Harville’s exertions as a nurse. “She really left nothing for Mary +to do. He and Mary had been persuaded to go early to their inn last night. Mary +had been hysterical again this morning. When he came away, she was going to +walk out with Captain Benwick, which, he hoped, would do her good. He almost +wished she had been prevailed on to come home the day before; but the truth +was, that Mrs Harville left nothing for anybody to do.” +</p> + +<p> +Charles was to return to Lyme the same afternoon, and his father had at first +half a mind to go with him, but the ladies could not consent. It would be going +only to multiply trouble to the others, and increase his own distress; and a +much better scheme followed and was acted upon. A chaise was sent for from +Crewkherne, and Charles conveyed back a far more useful person in the old +nursery-maid of the family, one who having brought up all the children, and +seen the very last, the lingering and long-petted Master Harry, sent to school +after his brothers, was now living in her deserted nursery to mend stockings +and dress all the blains and bruises she could get near her, and who, +consequently, was only too happy in being allowed to go and help nurse dear +Miss Louisa. Vague wishes of getting Sarah thither, had occurred before to Mrs +Musgrove and Henrietta; but without Anne, it would hardly have been resolved +on, and found practicable so soon. +</p> + +<p> +They were indebted, the next day, to Charles Hayter, for all the minute +knowledge of Louisa, which it was so essential to obtain every twenty-four +hours. He made it his business to go to Lyme, and his account was still +encouraging. The intervals of sense and consciousness were believed to be +stronger. Every report agreed in Captain Wentworth’s appearing fixed in +Lyme. +</p> + +<p> +Anne was to leave them on the morrow, an event which they all dreaded. +“What should they do without her? They were wretched comforters for one +another.” And so much was said in this way, that Anne thought she could +not do better than impart among them the general inclination to which she was +privy, and persuaded them all to go to Lyme at once. She had little difficulty; +it was soon determined that they would go; go to-morrow, fix themselves at the +inn, or get into lodgings, as it suited, and there remain till dear Louisa +could be moved. They must be taking off some trouble from the good people she +was with; they might at least relieve Mrs Harville from the care of her own +children; and in short, they were so happy in the decision, that Anne was +delighted with what she had done, and felt that she could not spend her last +morning at Uppercross better than in assisting their preparations, and sending +them off at an early hour, though her being left to the solitary range of the +house was the consequence. +</p> + +<p> +She was the last, excepting the little boys at the cottage, she was the very +last, the only remaining one of all that had filled and animated both houses, +of all that had given Uppercross its cheerful character. A few days had made a +change indeed! +</p> + +<p> +If Louisa recovered, it would all be well again. More than former happiness +would be restored. There could not be a doubt, to her mind there was none, of +what would follow her recovery. A few months hence, and the room now so +deserted, occupied but by her silent, pensive self, might be filled again with +all that was happy and gay, all that was glowing and bright in prosperous love, +all that was most unlike Anne Elliot! +</p> + +<p> +An hour’s complete leisure for such reflections as these, on a dark +November day, a small thick rain almost blotting out the very few objects ever +to be discerned from the windows, was enough to make the sound of Lady +Russell’s carriage exceedingly welcome; and yet, though desirous to be +gone, she could not quit the Mansion House, or look an adieu to the Cottage, +with its black, dripping and comfortless veranda, or even notice through the +misty glasses the last humble tenements of the village, without a saddened +heart. Scenes had passed in Uppercross which made it precious. It stood the +record of many sensations of pain, once severe, but now softened; and of some +instances of relenting feeling, some breathings of friendship and +reconciliation, which could never be looked for again, and which could never +cease to be dear. She left it all behind her, all but the recollection that +such things had been. +</p> + +<p> +Anne had never entered Kellynch since her quitting Lady Russell’s house +in September. It had not been necessary, and the few occasions of its being +possible for her to go to the Hall she had contrived to evade and escape from. +Her first return was to resume her place in the modern and elegant apartments +of the Lodge, and to gladden the eyes of its mistress. +</p> + +<p> +There was some anxiety mixed with Lady Russell’s joy in meeting her. She +knew who had been frequenting Uppercross. But happily, either Anne was improved +in plumpness and looks, or Lady Russell fancied her so; and Anne, in receiving +her compliments on the occasion, had the amusement of connecting them with the +silent admiration of her cousin, and of hoping that she was to be blessed with +a second spring of youth and beauty. +</p> + +<p> +When they came to converse, she was soon sensible of some mental change. The +subjects of which her heart had been full on leaving Kellynch, and which she +had felt slighted, and been compelled to smother among the Musgroves, were now +become but of secondary interest. She had lately lost sight even of her father +and sister and Bath. Their concerns had been sunk under those of Uppercross; +and when Lady Russell reverted to their former hopes and fears, and spoke her +satisfaction in the house in Camden Place, which had been taken, and her regret +that Mrs Clay should still be with them, Anne would have been ashamed to have +it known how much more she was thinking of Lyme and Louisa Musgrove, and all +her acquaintance there; how much more interesting to her was the home and the +friendship of the Harvilles and Captain Benwick, than her own father’s +house in Camden Place, or her own sister’s intimacy with Mrs Clay. She +was actually forced to exert herself to meet Lady Russell with anything like +the appearance of equal solicitude, on topics which had by nature the first +claim on her. +</p> + +<p> +There was a little awkwardness at first in their discourse on another subject. +They must speak of the accident at Lyme. Lady Russell had not been arrived five +minutes the day before, when a full account of the whole had burst on her; but +still it must be talked of, she must make enquiries, she must regret the +imprudence, lament the result, and Captain Wentworth’s name must be +mentioned by both. Anne was conscious of not doing it so well as Lady Russell. +She could not speak the name, and look straight forward to Lady Russell’s +eye, till she had adopted the expedient of telling her briefly what she thought +of the attachment between him and Louisa. When this was told, his name +distressed her no longer. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell had only to listen composedly, and wish them happy, but internally +her heart revelled in angry pleasure, in pleased contempt, that the man who at +twenty-three had seemed to understand somewhat of the value of an Anne Elliot, +should, eight years afterwards, be charmed by a Louisa Musgrove. +</p> + +<p> +The first three or four days passed most quietly, with no circumstance to mark +them excepting the receipt of a note or two from Lyme, which found their way to +Anne, she could not tell how, and brought a rather improving account of Louisa. +At the end of that period, Lady Russell’s politeness could repose no +longer, and the fainter self-threatenings of the past became in a decided tone, +“I must call on Mrs Croft; I really must call upon her soon. Anne, have +you courage to go with me, and pay a visit in that house? It will be some trial +to us both.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne did not shrink from it; on the contrary, she truly felt as she said, in +observing— +</p> + +<p> +“I think you are very likely to suffer the most of the two; your feelings +are less reconciled to the change than mine. By remaining in the neighbourhood, +I am become inured to it.” +</p> + +<p> +She could have said more on the subject; for she had in fact so high an opinion +of the Crofts, and considered her father so very fortunate in his tenants, felt +the parish to be so sure of a good example, and the poor of the best attention +and relief, that however sorry and ashamed for the necessity of the removal, +she could not but in conscience feel that they were gone who deserved not to +stay, and that Kellynch Hall had passed into better hands than its +owners’. These convictions must unquestionably have their own pain, and +severe was its kind; but they precluded that pain which Lady Russell would +suffer in entering the house again, and returning through the well-known +apartments. +</p> + +<p> +In such moments Anne had no power of saying to herself, “These rooms +ought to belong only to us. Oh, how fallen in their destination! How unworthily +occupied! An ancient family to be so driven away! Strangers filling their +place!” No, except when she thought of her mother, and remembered where +she had been used to sit and preside, she had no sigh of that description to +heave. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Croft always met her with a kindness which gave her the pleasure of +fancying herself a favourite, and on the present occasion, receiving her in +that house, there was particular attention. +</p> + +<p> +The sad accident at Lyme was soon the prevailing topic, and on comparing their +latest accounts of the invalid, it appeared that each lady dated her +intelligence from the same hour of yestermorn; that Captain Wentworth had been +in Kellynch yesterday (the first time since the accident), had brought Anne the +last note, which she had not been able to trace the exact steps of; had staid a +few hours and then returned again to Lyme, and without any present intention of +quitting it any more. He had enquired after her, she found, particularly; had +expressed his hope of Miss Elliot’s not being the worse for her +exertions, and had spoken of those exertions as great. This was handsome, and +gave her more pleasure than almost anything else could have done. +</p> + +<p> +As to the sad catastrophe itself, it could be canvassed only in one style by a +couple of steady, sensible women, whose judgements had to work on ascertained +events; and it was perfectly decided that it had been the consequence of much +thoughtlessness and much imprudence; that its effects were most alarming, and +that it was frightful to think, how long Miss Musgrove’s recovery might +yet be doubtful, and how liable she would still remain to suffer from the +concussion hereafter! The Admiral wound it up summarily by exclaiming— +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, a very bad business indeed. A new sort of way this, for a young +fellow to be making love, by breaking his mistress’s head, is not it, +Miss Elliot? This is breaking a head and giving a plaster, truly!” +</p> + +<p> +Admiral Croft’s manners were not quite of the tone to suit Lady Russell, +but they delighted Anne. His goodness of heart and simplicity of character were +irresistible. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, this must be very bad for you,” said he, suddenly rousing +from a little reverie, “to be coming and finding us here. I had not +recollected it before, I declare, but it must be very bad. But now, do not +stand upon ceremony. Get up and go over all the rooms in the house if you like +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Another time, Sir, I thank you, not now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, whenever it suits you. You can slip in from the shrubbery at any +time; and there you will find we keep our umbrellas hanging up by that door. A +good place is not it? But,” (checking himself), “you will not think +it a good place, for yours were always kept in the butler’s room. Ay, so +it always is, I believe. One man’s ways may be as good as +another’s, but we all like our own best. And so you must judge for +yourself, whether it would be better for you to go about the house or +not.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne, finding she might decline it, did so, very gratefully. +</p> + +<p> +“We have made very few changes either,” continued the Admiral, +after thinking a moment. “Very few. We told you about the laundry-door, +at Uppercross. That has been a very great improvement. The wonder was, how any +family upon earth could bear with the inconvenience of its opening as it did, +so long! You will tell Sir Walter what we have done, and that Mr Shepherd +thinks it the greatest improvement the house ever had. Indeed, I must do +ourselves the justice to say, that the few alterations we have made have been +all very much for the better. My wife should have the credit of them, however. +I have done very little besides sending away some of the large looking-glasses +from my dressing-room, which was your father’s. A very good man, and very +much the gentleman I am sure: but I should think, Miss Elliot,” (looking +with serious reflection), “I should think he must be rather a dressy man +for his time of life. Such a number of looking-glasses! oh Lord! there was no +getting away from one’s self. So I got Sophy to lend me a hand, and we +soon shifted their quarters; and now I am quite snug, with my little shaving +glass in one corner, and another great thing that I never go near.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne, amused in spite of herself, was rather distressed for an answer, and the +Admiral, fearing he might not have been civil enough, took up the subject +again, to say— +</p> + +<p> +“The next time you write to your good father, Miss Elliot, pray give him +my compliments and Mrs Croft’s, and say that we are settled here quite to +our liking, and have no fault at all to find with the place. The breakfast-room +chimney smokes a little, I grant you, but it is only when the wind is due north +and blows hard, which may not happen three times a winter. And take it +altogether, now that we have been into most of the houses hereabouts and can +judge, there is not one that we like better than this. Pray say so, with my +compliments. He will be glad to hear it.” +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell and Mrs Croft were very well pleased with each other: but the +acquaintance which this visit began was fated not to proceed far at present; +for when it was returned, the Crofts announced themselves to be going away for +a few weeks, to visit their connexions in the north of the county, and probably +might not be at home again before Lady Russell would be removing to Bath. +</p> + +<p> +So ended all danger to Anne of meeting Captain Wentworth at Kellynch Hall, or +of seeing him in company with her friend. Everything was safe enough, and she +smiled over the many anxious feelings she had wasted on the subject. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<p> +Though Charles and Mary had remained at Lyme much longer after Mr and Mrs +Musgrove’s going than Anne conceived they could have been at all wanted, +they were yet the first of the family to be at home again; and as soon as +possible after their return to Uppercross they drove over to the Lodge. They +had left Louisa beginning to sit up; but her head, though clear, was +exceedingly weak, and her nerves susceptible to the highest extreme of +tenderness; and though she might be pronounced to be altogether doing very +well, it was still impossible to say when she might be able to bear the removal +home; and her father and mother, who must return in time to receive their +younger children for the Christmas holidays, had hardly a hope of being allowed +to bring her with them. +</p> + +<p> +They had been all in lodgings together. Mrs Musgrove had got Mrs +Harville’s children away as much as she could, every possible supply from +Uppercross had been furnished, to lighten the inconvenience to the Harvilles, +while the Harvilles had been wanting them to come to dinner every day; and in +short, it seemed to have been only a struggle on each side as to which should +be most disinterested and hospitable. +</p> + +<p> +Mary had had her evils; but upon the whole, as was evident by her staying so +long, she had found more to enjoy than to suffer. Charles Hayter had been at +Lyme oftener than suited her; and when they dined with the Harvilles there had +been only a maid-servant to wait, and at first Mrs Harville had always given +Mrs Musgrove precedence; but then, she had received so very handsome an apology +from her on finding out whose daughter she was, and there had been so much +going on every day, there had been so many walks between their lodgings and the +Harvilles, and she had got books from the library, and changed them so often, +that the balance had certainly been much in favour of Lyme. She had been taken +to Charmouth too, and she had bathed, and she had gone to church, and there +were a great many more people to look at in the church at Lyme than at +Uppercross; and all this, joined to the sense of being so very useful, had made +really an agreeable fortnight. +</p> + +<p> +Anne enquired after Captain Benwick. Mary’s face was clouded directly. +Charles laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Captain Benwick is very well, I believe, but he is a very odd young +man. I do not know what he would be at. We asked him to come home with us for a +day or two: Charles undertook to give him some shooting, and he seemed quite +delighted, and, for my part, I thought it was all settled; when behold! on +Tuesday night, he made a very awkward sort of excuse; ‘he never +shot’ and he had ‘been quite misunderstood,’ and he had +promised this and he had promised that, and the end of it was, I found, that he +did not mean to come. I suppose he was afraid of finding it dull; but upon my +word I should have thought we were lively enough at the Cottage for such a +heart-broken man as Captain Benwick.” +</p> + +<p> +Charles laughed again and said, “Now Mary, you know very well how it +really was. It was all your doing,” (turning to Anne). “He fancied +that if he went with us, he should find you close by: he fancied everybody to +be living in Uppercross; and when he discovered that Lady Russell lived three +miles off, his heart failed him, and he had not courage to come. That is the +fact, upon my honour. Mary knows it is.” +</p> + +<p> +But Mary did not give into it very graciously, whether from not considering +Captain Benwick entitled by birth and situation to be in love with an Elliot, +or from not wanting to believe Anne a greater attraction to Uppercross than +herself, must be left to be guessed. Anne’s good-will, however, was not +to be lessened by what she heard. She boldly acknowledged herself flattered, +and continued her enquiries. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! he talks of you,” cried Charles, “in such +terms—” Mary interrupted him. “I declare, Charles, I never +heard him mention Anne twice all the time I was there. I declare, Anne, he +never talks of you at all.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” admitted Charles, “I do not know that he ever does, in +a general way; but however, it is a very clear thing that he admires you +exceedingly. His head is full of some books that he is reading upon your +recommendation, and he wants to talk to you about them; he has found out +something or other in one of them which he thinks—oh! I cannot pretend to +remember it, but it was something very fine—I overheard him telling +Henrietta all about it; and then ‘Miss Elliot’ was spoken of in the +highest terms! Now Mary, I declare it was so, I heard it myself, and you were +in the other room. ‘Elegance, sweetness, beauty.’ Oh! there was no +end of Miss Elliot’s charms.” +</p> + +<p> +“And I am sure,” cried Mary, warmly, “it was a very little to +his credit, if he did. Miss Harville only died last June. Such a heart is very +little worth having; is it, Lady Russell? I am sure you will agree with +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I must see Captain Benwick before I decide,” said Lady Russell, +smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“And that you are very likely to do very soon, I can tell you, +ma’am,” said Charles. “Though he had not nerves for coming +away with us, and setting off again afterwards to pay a formal visit here, he +will make his way over to Kellynch one day by himself, you may depend on it. I +told him the distance and the road, and I told him of the church’s being +so very well worth seeing; for as he has a taste for those sort of things, I +thought that would be a good excuse, and he listened with all his understanding +and soul; and I am sure from his manner that you will have him calling here +soon. So, I give you notice, Lady Russell.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any acquaintance of Anne’s will always be welcome to me,” +was Lady Russell’s kind answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! as to being Anne’s acquaintance,” said Mary, “I +think he is rather my acquaintance, for I have been seeing him every day this +last fortnight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, as your joint acquaintance, then, I shall be very happy to see +Captain Benwick.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will not find anything very agreeable in him, I assure you, +ma’am. He is one of the dullest young men that ever lived. He has walked +with me, sometimes, from one end of the sands to the other, without saying a +word. He is not at all a well-bred young man. I am sure you will not like +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“There we differ, Mary,” said Anne. “I think Lady Russell +would like him. I think she would be so much pleased with his mind, that she +would very soon see no deficiency in his manner.” +</p> + +<p> +“So do I, Anne,” said Charles. “I am sure Lady Russell would +like him. He is just Lady Russell’s sort. Give him a book, and he will +read all day long.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, that he will!” exclaimed Mary, tauntingly. “He will sit +poring over his book, and not know when a person speaks to him, or when one +drops one’s scissors, or anything that happens. Do you think Lady Russell +would like that?” +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell could not help laughing. “Upon my word,” said she, +“I should not have supposed that my opinion of any one could have +admitted of such difference of conjecture, steady and matter of fact as I may +call myself. I have really a curiosity to see the person who can give occasion +to such directly opposite notions. I wish he may be induced to call here. And +when he does, Mary, you may depend upon hearing my opinion; but I am determined +not to judge him beforehand.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will not like him, I will answer for it.” +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell began talking of something else. Mary spoke with animation of +their meeting with, or rather missing, Mr Elliot so extraordinarily. +</p> + +<p> +“He is a man,” said Lady Russell, “whom I have no wish to +see. His declining to be on cordial terms with the head of his family, has left +a very strong impression in his disfavour with me.” +</p> + +<p> +This decision checked Mary’s eagerness, and stopped her short in the +midst of the Elliot countenance. +</p> + +<p> +With regard to Captain Wentworth, though Anne hazarded no enquiries, there was +voluntary communication sufficient. His spirits had been greatly recovering +lately as might be expected. As Louisa improved, he had improved, and he was +now quite a different creature from what he had been the first week. He had not +seen Louisa; and was so extremely fearful of any ill consequence to her from an +interview, that he did not press for it at all; and, on the contrary, seemed to +have a plan of going away for a week or ten days, till her head was stronger. +He had talked of going down to Plymouth for a week, and wanted to persuade +Captain Benwick to go with him; but, as Charles maintained to the last, Captain +Benwick seemed much more disposed to ride over to Kellynch. +</p> + +<p> +There can be no doubt that Lady Russell and Anne were both occasionally +thinking of Captain Benwick, from this time. Lady Russell could not hear the +door-bell without feeling that it might be his herald; nor could Anne return +from any stroll of solitary indulgence in her father’s grounds, or any +visit of charity in the village, without wondering whether she might see him or +hear of him. Captain Benwick came not, however. He was either less disposed for +it than Charles had imagined, or he was too shy; and after giving him a +week’s indulgence, Lady Russell determined him to be unworthy of the +interest which he had been beginning to excite. +</p> + +<p> +The Musgroves came back to receive their happy boys and girls from school, +bringing with them Mrs Harville’s little children, to improve the noise +of Uppercross, and lessen that of Lyme. Henrietta remained with Louisa; but all +the rest of the family were again in their usual quarters. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell and Anne paid their compliments to them once, when Anne could not +but feel that Uppercross was already quite alive again. Though neither +Henrietta, nor Louisa, nor Charles Hayter, nor Captain Wentworth were there, +the room presented as strong a contrast as could be wished to the last state +she had seen it in. +</p> + +<p> +Immediately surrounding Mrs Musgrove were the little Harvilles, whom she was +sedulously guarding from the tyranny of the two children from the Cottage, +expressly arrived to amuse them. On one side was a table occupied by some +chattering girls, cutting up silk and gold paper; and on the other were +tressels and trays, bending under the weight of brawn and cold pies, where +riotous boys were holding high revel; the whole completed by a roaring +Christmas fire, which seemed determined to be heard, in spite of all the noise +of the others. Charles and Mary also came in, of course, during their visit, +and Mr Musgrove made a point of paying his respects to Lady Russell, and sat +down close to her for ten minutes, talking with a very raised voice, but from +the clamour of the children on his knees, generally in vain. It was a fine +family-piece. +</p> + +<p> +Anne, judging from her own temperament, would have deemed such a domestic +hurricane a bad restorative of the nerves, which Louisa’s illness must +have so greatly shaken. But Mrs Musgrove, who got Anne near her on purpose to +thank her most cordially, again and again, for all her attentions to them, +concluded a short recapitulation of what she had suffered herself by observing, +with a happy glance round the room, that after all she had gone through, +nothing was so likely to do her good as a little quiet cheerfulness at home. +</p> + +<p> +Louisa was now recovering apace. Her mother could even think of her being able +to join their party at home, before her brothers and sisters went to school +again. The Harvilles had promised to come with her and stay at Uppercross, +whenever she returned. Captain Wentworth was gone, for the present, to see his +brother in Shropshire. +</p> + +<p> +“I hope I shall remember, in future,” said Lady Russell, as soon as +they were reseated in the carriage, “not to call at Uppercross in the +Christmas holidays.” +</p> + +<p> +Everybody has their taste in noises as well as in other matters; and sounds are +quite innoxious, or most distressing, by their sort rather than their quantity. +When Lady Russell not long afterwards, was entering Bath on a wet afternoon, +and driving through the long course of streets from the Old Bridge to Camden +Place, amidst the dash of other carriages, the heavy rumble of carts and drays, +the bawling of newspapermen, muffin-men and milkmen, and the ceaseless clink of +pattens, she made no complaint. No, these were noises which belonged to the +winter pleasures; her spirits rose under their influence; and like Mrs +Musgrove, she was feeling, though not saying, that after being long in the +country, nothing could be so good for her as a little quiet cheerfulness. +</p> + +<p> +Anne did not share these feelings. She persisted in a very determined, though +very silent disinclination for Bath; caught the first dim view of the extensive +buildings, smoking in rain, without any wish of seeing them better; felt their +progress through the streets to be, however disagreeable, yet too rapid; for +who would be glad to see her when she arrived? And looked back, with fond +regret, to the bustles of Uppercross and the seclusion of Kellynch. +</p> + +<p> +Elizabeth’s last letter had communicated a piece of news of some +interest. Mr Elliot was in Bath. He had called in Camden Place; had called a +second time, a third; had been pointedly attentive. If Elizabeth and her father +did not deceive themselves, had been taking much pains to seek the +acquaintance, and proclaim the value of the connection, as he had formerly +taken pains to shew neglect. This was very wonderful if it were true; and Lady +Russell was in a state of very agreeable curiosity and perplexity about Mr +Elliot, already recanting the sentiment she had so lately expressed to Mary, of +his being “a man whom she had no wish to see.” She had a great wish +to see him. If he really sought to reconcile himself like a dutiful branch, he +must be forgiven for having dismembered himself from the paternal tree. +</p> + +<p> +Anne was not animated to an equal pitch by the circumstance, but she felt that +she would rather see Mr Elliot again than not, which was more than she could +say for many other persons in Bath. +</p> + +<p> +She was put down in Camden Place; and Lady Russell then drove to her own +lodgings, in Rivers Street. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<p> +Sir Walter had taken a very good house in Camden Place, a lofty dignified +situation, such as becomes a man of consequence; and both he and Elizabeth were +settled there, much to their satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +Anne entered it with a sinking heart, anticipating an imprisonment of many +months, and anxiously saying to herself, “Oh! when shall I leave you +again?” A degree of unexpected cordiality, however, in the welcome she +received, did her good. Her father and sister were glad to see her, for the +sake of shewing her the house and furniture, and met her with kindness. Her +making a fourth, when they sat down to dinner, was noticed as an advantage. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Clay was very pleasant, and very smiling, but her courtesies and smiles +were more a matter of course. Anne had always felt that she would pretend what +was proper on her arrival, but the complaisance of the others was unlooked for. +They were evidently in excellent spirits, and she was soon to listen to the +causes. They had no inclination to listen to her. After laying out for some +compliments of being deeply regretted in their old neighbourhood, which Anne +could not pay, they had only a few faint enquiries to make, before the talk +must be all their own. Uppercross excited no interest, Kellynch very little: it +was all Bath. +</p> + +<p> +They had the pleasure of assuring her that Bath more than answered their +expectations in every respect. Their house was undoubtedly the best in Camden +Place; their drawing-rooms had many decided advantages over all the others +which they had either seen or heard of, and the superiority was not less in the +style of the fitting-up, or the taste of the furniture. Their acquaintance was +exceedingly sought after. Everybody was wanting to visit them. They had drawn +back from many introductions, and still were perpetually having cards left by +people of whom they knew nothing. +</p> + +<p> +Here were funds of enjoyment. Could Anne wonder that her father and sister were +happy? She might not wonder, but she must sigh that her father should feel no +degradation in his change, should see nothing to regret in the duties and +dignity of the resident landholder, should find so much to be vain of in the +littlenesses of a town; and she must sigh, and smile, and wonder too, as +Elizabeth threw open the folding-doors and walked with exultation from one +drawing-room to the other, boasting of their space; at the possibility of that +woman, who had been mistress of Kellynch Hall, finding extent to be proud of +between two walls, perhaps thirty feet asunder. +</p> + +<p> +But this was not all which they had to make them happy. They had Mr Elliot too. +Anne had a great deal to hear of Mr Elliot. He was not only pardoned, they were +delighted with him. He had been in Bath about a fortnight; (he had passed +through Bath in November, in his way to London, when the intelligence of Sir +Walter’s being settled there had of course reached him, though only +twenty-four hours in the place, but he had not been able to avail himself of +it;) but he had now been a fortnight in Bath, and his first object on arriving, +had been to leave his card in Camden Place, following it up by such assiduous +endeavours to meet, and when they did meet, by such great openness of conduct, +such readiness to apologize for the past, such solicitude to be received as a +relation again, that their former good understanding was completely +re-established. +</p> + +<p> +They had not a fault to find in him. He had explained away all the appearance +of neglect on his own side. It had originated in misapprehension entirely. He +had never had an idea of throwing himself off; he had feared that he was thrown +off, but knew not why, and delicacy had kept him silent. Upon the hint of +having spoken disrespectfully or carelessly of the family and the family +honours, he was quite indignant. He, who had ever boasted of being an Elliot, +and whose feelings, as to connection, were only too strict to suit the unfeudal +tone of the present day. He was astonished, indeed, but his character and +general conduct must refute it. He could refer Sir Walter to all who knew him; +and certainly, the pains he had been taking on this, the first opportunity of +reconciliation, to be restored to the footing of a relation and +heir-presumptive, was a strong proof of his opinions on the subject. +</p> + +<p> +The circumstances of his marriage, too, were found to admit of much +extenuation. This was an article not to be entered on by himself; but a very +intimate friend of his, a Colonel Wallis, a highly respectable man, perfectly +the gentleman, (and not an ill-looking man, Sir Walter added), who was living +in very good style in Marlborough Buildings, and had, at his own particular +request, been admitted to their acquaintance through Mr Elliot, had mentioned +one or two things relative to the marriage, which made a material difference in +the discredit of it. +</p> + +<p> +Colonel Wallis had known Mr Elliot long, had been well acquainted also with his +wife, had perfectly understood the whole story. She was certainly not a woman +of family, but well educated, accomplished, rich, and excessively in love with +his friend. There had been the charm. She had sought him. Without that +attraction, not all her money would have tempted Elliot, and Sir Walter was, +moreover, assured of her having been a very fine woman. Here was a great deal +to soften the business. A very fine woman with a large fortune, in love with +him! Sir Walter seemed to admit it as complete apology; and though Elizabeth +could not see the circumstance in quite so favourable a light, she allowed it +be a great extenuation. +</p> + +<p> +Mr Elliot had called repeatedly, had dined with them once, evidently delighted +by the distinction of being asked, for they gave no dinners in general; +delighted, in short, by every proof of cousinly notice, and placing his whole +happiness in being on intimate terms in Camden Place. +</p> + +<p> +Anne listened, but without quite understanding it. Allowances, large +allowances, she knew, must be made for the ideas of those who spoke. She heard +it all under embellishment. All that sounded extravagant or irrational in the +progress of the reconciliation might have no origin but in the language of the +relators. Still, however, she had the sensation of there being something more +than immediately appeared, in Mr Elliot’s wishing, after an interval of +so many years, to be well received by them. In a worldly view, he had nothing +to gain by being on terms with Sir Walter; nothing to risk by a state of +variance. In all probability he was already the richer of the two, and the +Kellynch estate would as surely be his hereafter as the title. A sensible man, +and he had looked like a very sensible man, why should it be an object to him? +She could only offer one solution; it was, perhaps, for Elizabeth’s sake. +There might really have been a liking formerly, though convenience and accident +had drawn him a different way; and now that he could afford to please himself, +he might mean to pay his addresses to her. Elizabeth was certainly very +handsome, with well-bred, elegant manners, and her character might never have +been penetrated by Mr Elliot, knowing her but in public, and when very young +himself. How her temper and understanding might bear the investigation of his +present keener time of life was another concern and rather a fearful one. Most +earnestly did she wish that he might not be too nice, or too observant if +Elizabeth were his object; and that Elizabeth was disposed to believe herself +so, and that her friend Mrs Clay was encouraging the idea, seemed apparent by a +glance or two between them, while Mr Elliot’s frequent visits were talked +of. +</p> + +<p> +Anne mentioned the glimpses she had had of him at Lyme, but without being much +attended to. “Oh! yes, perhaps, it had been Mr Elliot. They did not know. +It might be him, perhaps.” They could not listen to her description of +him. They were describing him themselves; Sir Walter especially. He did justice +to his very gentlemanlike appearance, his air of elegance and fashion, his good +shaped face, his sensible eye; but, at the same time, “must lament his +being very much under-hung, a defect which time seemed to have increased; nor +could he pretend to say that ten years had not altered almost every feature for +the worse. Mr Elliot appeared to think that he (Sir Walter) was looking exactly +as he had done when they last parted;” but Sir Walter had “not been +able to return the compliment entirely, which had embarrassed him. He did not +mean to complain, however. Mr Elliot was better to look at than most men, and +he had no objection to being seen with him anywhere.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr Elliot, and his friends in Marlborough Buildings, were talked of the whole +evening. “Colonel Wallis had been so impatient to be introduced to them! +and Mr Elliot so anxious that he should!” and there was a Mrs Wallis, at +present known only to them by description, as she was in daily expectation of +her confinement; but Mr Elliot spoke of her as “a most charming woman, +quite worthy of being known in Camden Place,” and as soon as she +recovered they were to be acquainted. Sir Walter thought much of Mrs Wallis; +she was said to be an excessively pretty woman, beautiful. “He longed to +see her. He hoped she might make some amends for the many very plain faces he +was continually passing in the streets. The worst of Bath was the number of its +plain women. He did not mean to say that there were no pretty women, but the +number of the plain was out of all proportion. He had frequently observed, as +he walked, that one handsome face would be followed by thirty, or +five-and-thirty frights; and once, as he had stood in a shop on Bond Street, he +had counted eighty-seven women go by, one after another, without there being a +tolerable face among them. It had been a frosty morning, to be sure, a sharp +frost, which hardly one woman in a thousand could stand the test of. But still, +there certainly were a dreadful multitude of ugly women in Bath; and as for the +men! they were infinitely worse. Such scarecrows as the streets were full of! +It was evident how little the women were used to the sight of anything +tolerable, by the effect which a man of decent appearance produced. He had +never walked anywhere arm-in-arm with Colonel Wallis (who was a fine military +figure, though sandy-haired) without observing that every woman’s eye was +upon him; every woman’s eye was sure to be upon Colonel Wallis.” +Modest Sir Walter! He was not allowed to escape, however. His daughter and Mrs +Clay united in hinting that Colonel Wallis’s companion might have as good +a figure as Colonel Wallis, and certainly was not sandy-haired. +</p> + +<p> +“How is Mary looking?” said Sir Walter, in the height of his good +humour. “The last time I saw her she had a red nose, but I hope that may +not happen every day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! no, that must have been quite accidental. In general she has been in +very good health and very good looks since Michaelmas.” +</p> + +<p> +“If I thought it would not tempt her to go out in sharp winds, and grow +coarse, I would send her a new hat and pelisse.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne was considering whether she should venture to suggest that a gown, or a +cap, would not be liable to any such misuse, when a knock at the door suspended +everything. “A knock at the door! and so late! It was ten o’clock. +Could it be Mr Elliot? They knew he was to dine in Lansdown Crescent. It was +possible that he might stop in his way home to ask them how they did. They +could think of no one else. Mrs Clay decidedly thought it Mr Elliot’s +knock.” Mrs Clay was right. With all the state which a butler and +foot-boy could give, Mr Elliot was ushered into the room. +</p> + +<p> +It was the same, the very same man, with no difference but of dress. Anne drew +a little back, while the others received his compliments, and her sister his +apologies for calling at so unusual an hour, but “he could not be so near +without wishing to know that neither she nor her friend had taken cold the day +before,” &c. &c.; which was all as politely done, and as politely +taken, as possible, but her part must follow then. Sir Walter talked of his +youngest daughter; “Mr Elliot must give him leave to present him to his +youngest daughter” (there was no occasion for remembering Mary); and +Anne, smiling and blushing, very becomingly shewed to Mr Elliot the pretty +features which he had by no means forgotten, and instantly saw, with amusement +at his little start of surprise, that he had not been at all aware of who she +was. He looked completely astonished, but not more astonished than pleased; his +eyes brightened! and with the most perfect alacrity he welcomed the +relationship, alluded to the past, and entreated to be received as an +acquaintance already. He was quite as good-looking as he had appeared at Lyme, +his countenance improved by speaking, and his manners were so exactly what they +ought to be, so polished, so easy, so particularly agreeable, that she could +compare them in excellence to only one person’s manners. They were not +the same, but they were, perhaps, equally good. +</p> + +<p> +He sat down with them, and improved their conversation very much. There could +be no doubt of his being a sensible man. Ten minutes were enough to certify +that. His tone, his expressions, his choice of subject, his knowing where to +stop; it was all the operation of a sensible, discerning mind. As soon as he +could, he began to talk to her of Lyme, wanting to compare opinions respecting +the place, but especially wanting to speak of the circumstance of their +happening to be guests in the same inn at the same time; to give his own route, +understand something of hers, and regret that he should have lost such an +opportunity of paying his respects to her. She gave him a short account of her +party and business at Lyme. His regret increased as he listened. He had spent +his whole solitary evening in the room adjoining theirs; had heard voices, +mirth continually; thought they must be a most delightful set of people, longed +to be with them, but certainly without the smallest suspicion of his possessing +the shadow of a right to introduce himself. If he had but asked who the party +were! The name of Musgrove would have told him enough. “Well, it would +serve to cure him of an absurd practice of never asking a question at an inn, +which he had adopted, when quite a young man, on the principle of its being +very ungenteel to be curious.” +</p> + +<p> +“The notions of a young man of one or two and twenty,” said he, +“as to what is necessary in manners to make him quite the thing, are more +absurd, I believe, than those of any other set of beings in the world. The +folly of the means they often employ is only to be equalled by the folly of +what they have in view.” +</p> + +<p> +But he must not be addressing his reflections to Anne alone: he knew it; he was +soon diffused again among the others, and it was only at intervals that he +could return to Lyme. +</p> + +<p> +His enquiries, however, produced at length an account of the scene she had been +engaged in there, soon after his leaving the place. Having alluded to “an +accident,” he must hear the whole. When he questioned, Sir Walter and +Elizabeth began to question also, but the difference in their manner of doing +it could not be unfelt. She could only compare Mr Elliot to Lady Russell, in +the wish of really comprehending what had passed, and in the degree of concern +for what she must have suffered in witnessing it. +</p> + +<p> +He staid an hour with them. The elegant little clock on the mantel-piece had +struck “eleven with its silver sounds,” and the watchman was +beginning to be heard at a distance telling the same tale, before Mr Elliot or +any of them seemed to feel that he had been there long. +</p> + +<p> +Anne could not have supposed it possible that her first evening in Camden Place +could have passed so well! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<p> +There was one point which Anne, on returning to her family, would have been +more thankful to ascertain even than Mr Elliot’s being in love with +Elizabeth, which was, her father’s not being in love with Mrs Clay; and +she was very far from easy about it, when she had been at home a few hours. On +going down to breakfast the next morning, she found there had just been a +decent pretence on the lady’s side of meaning to leave them. She could +imagine Mrs Clay to have said, that “now Miss Anne was come, she could +not suppose herself at all wanted;” for Elizabeth was replying in a sort +of whisper, “That must not be any reason, indeed. I assure you I feel it +none. She is nothing to me, compared with you;” and she was in full time +to hear her father say, “My dear madam, this must not be. As yet, you +have seen nothing of Bath. You have been here only to be useful. You must not +run away from us now. You must stay to be acquainted with Mrs Wallis, the +beautiful Mrs Wallis. To your fine mind, I well know the sight of beauty is a +real gratification.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke and looked so much in earnest, that Anne was not surprised to see Mrs +Clay stealing a glance at Elizabeth and herself. Her countenance, perhaps, +might express some watchfulness; but the praise of the fine mind did not appear +to excite a thought in her sister. The lady could not but yield to such joint +entreaties, and promise to stay. +</p> + +<p> +In the course of the same morning, Anne and her father chancing to be alone +together, he began to compliment her on her improved looks; he thought her +“less thin in her person, in her cheeks; her skin, her complexion, +greatly improved; clearer, fresher. Had she been using any thing in +particular?” “No, nothing.” “Merely Gowland,” he +supposed. “No, nothing at all.” “Ha! he was surprised at +that;” and added, “certainly you cannot do better than to continue +as you are; you cannot be better than well; or I should recommend Gowland, the +constant use of Gowland, during the spring months. Mrs Clay has been using it +at my recommendation, and you see what it has done for her. You see how it has +carried away her freckles.” +</p> + +<p> +If Elizabeth could but have heard this! Such personal praise might have struck +her, especially as it did not appear to Anne that the freckles were at all +lessened. But everything must take its chance. The evil of a marriage would be +much diminished, if Elizabeth were also to marry. As for herself, she might +always command a home with Lady Russell. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell’s composed mind and polite manners were put to some trial on +this point, in her intercourse in Camden Place. The sight of Mrs Clay in such +favour, and of Anne so overlooked, was a perpetual provocation to her there; +and vexed her as much when she was away, as a person in Bath who drinks the +water, gets all the new publications, and has a very large acquaintance, has +time to be vexed. +</p> + +<p> +As Mr Elliot became known to her, she grew more charitable, or more +indifferent, towards the others. His manners were an immediate recommendation; +and on conversing with him she found the solid so fully supporting the +superficial, that she was at first, as she told Anne, almost ready to exclaim, +“Can this be Mr Elliot?” and could not seriously picture to herself +a more agreeable or estimable man. Everything united in him; good +understanding, correct opinions, knowledge of the world, and a warm heart. He +had strong feelings of family attachment and family honour, without pride or +weakness; he lived with the liberality of a man of fortune, without display; he +judged for himself in everything essential, without defying public opinion in +any point of worldly decorum. He was steady, observant, moderate, candid; never +run away with by spirits or by selfishness, which fancied itself strong +feeling; and yet, with a sensibility to what was amiable and lovely, and a +value for all the felicities of domestic life, which characters of fancied +enthusiasm and violent agitation seldom really possess. She was sure that he +had not been happy in marriage. Colonel Wallis said it, and Lady Russell saw +it; but it had been no unhappiness to sour his mind, nor (she began pretty soon +to suspect) to prevent his thinking of a second choice. Her satisfaction in Mr +Elliot outweighed all the plague of Mrs Clay. +</p> + +<p> +It was now some years since Anne had begun to learn that she and her excellent +friend could sometimes think differently; and it did not surprise her, +therefore, that Lady Russell should see nothing suspicious or inconsistent, +nothing to require more motives than appeared, in Mr Elliot’s great +desire of a reconciliation. In Lady Russell’s view, it was perfectly +natural that Mr Elliot, at a mature time of life, should feel it a most +desirable object, and what would very generally recommend him among all +sensible people, to be on good terms with the head of his family; the simplest +process in the world of time upon a head naturally clear, and only erring in +the heyday of youth. Anne presumed, however, still to smile about it, and at +last to mention “Elizabeth.” Lady Russell listened, and looked, and +made only this cautious reply:—“Elizabeth! very well; time will +explain.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a reference to the future, which Anne, after a little observation, felt +she must submit to. She could determine nothing at present. In that house +Elizabeth must be first; and she was in the habit of such general observance as +“Miss Elliot,” that any particularity of attention seemed almost +impossible. Mr Elliot, too, it must be remembered, had not been a widower seven +months. A little delay on his side might be very excusable. In fact, Anne could +never see the crape round his hat, without fearing that she was the inexcusable +one, in attributing to him such imaginations; for though his marriage had not +been very happy, still it had existed so many years that she could not +comprehend a very rapid recovery from the awful impression of its being +dissolved. +</p> + +<p> +However it might end, he was without any question their pleasantest +acquaintance in Bath: she saw nobody equal to him; and it was a great +indulgence now and then to talk to him about Lyme, which he seemed to have as +lively a wish to see again, and to see more of, as herself. They went through +the particulars of their first meeting a great many times. He gave her to +understand that he had looked at her with some earnestness. She knew it well; +and she remembered another person’s look also. +</p> + +<p> +They did not always think alike. His value for rank and connexion she perceived +was greater than hers. It was not merely complaisance, it must be a liking to +the cause, which made him enter warmly into her father and sister’s +solicitudes on a subject which she thought unworthy to excite them. The Bath +paper one morning announced the arrival of the Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple, +and her daughter, the Honourable Miss Carteret; and all the comfort of No. +—, Camden Place, was swept away for many days; for the Dalrymples (in +Anne’s opinion, most unfortunately) were cousins of the Elliots; and the +agony was how to introduce themselves properly. +</p> + +<p> +Anne had never seen her father and sister before in contact with nobility, and +she must acknowledge herself disappointed. She had hoped better things from +their high ideas of their own situation in life, and was reduced to form a wish +which she had never foreseen; a wish that they had more pride; for “our +cousins Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret;” “our cousins, the +Dalrymples,” sounded in her ears all day long. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter had once been in company with the late viscount, but had never seen +any of the rest of the family; and the difficulties of the case arose from +there having been a suspension of all intercourse by letters of ceremony, ever +since the death of that said late viscount, when, in consequence of a dangerous +illness of Sir Walter’s at the same time, there had been an unlucky +omission at Kellynch. No letter of condolence had been sent to Ireland. The +neglect had been visited on the head of the sinner; for when poor Lady Elliot +died herself, no letter of condolence was received at Kellynch, and, +consequently, there was but too much reason to apprehend that the Dalrymples +considered the relationship as closed. How to have this anxious business set to +rights, and be admitted as cousins again, was the question: and it was a +question which, in a more rational manner, neither Lady Russell nor Mr Elliot +thought unimportant. “Family connexions were always worth preserving, +good company always worth seeking; Lady Dalrymple had taken a house, for three +months, in Laura Place, and would be living in style. She had been at Bath the +year before, and Lady Russell had heard her spoken of as a charming woman. It +was very desirable that the connexion should be renewed, if it could be done, +without any compromise of propriety on the side of the Elliots.” +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter, however, would choose his own means, and at last wrote a very fine +letter of ample explanation, regret, and entreaty, to his right honourable +cousin. Neither Lady Russell nor Mr Elliot could admire the letter; but it did +all that was wanted, in bringing three lines of scrawl from the Dowager +Viscountess. “She was very much honoured, and should be happy in their +acquaintance.” The toils of the business were over, the sweets began. +They visited in Laura Place, they had the cards of Dowager Viscountess +Dalrymple, and the Honourable Miss Carteret, to be arranged wherever they might +be most visible: and “Our cousins in Laura Place,”—“Our +cousin, Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret,” were talked of to everybody. +</p> + +<p> +Anne was ashamed. Had Lady Dalrymple and her daughter even been very agreeable, +she would still have been ashamed of the agitation they created, but they were +nothing. There was no superiority of manner, accomplishment, or understanding. +Lady Dalrymple had acquired the name of “a charming woman,” because +she had a smile and a civil answer for everybody. Miss Carteret, with still +less to say, was so plain and so awkward, that she would never have been +tolerated in Camden Place but for her birth. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell confessed she had expected something better; but yet “it was +an acquaintance worth having;” and when Anne ventured to speak her +opinion of them to Mr Elliot, he agreed to their being nothing in themselves, +but still maintained that, as a family connexion, as good company, as those who +would collect good company around them, they had their value. Anne smiled and +said, +</p> + +<p> +“My idea of good company, Mr Elliot, is the company of clever, +well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I +call good company.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are mistaken,” said he gently, “that is not good +company; that is the best. Good company requires only birth, education, and +manners, and with regard to education is not very nice. Birth and good manners +are essential; but a little learning is by no means a dangerous thing in good +company; on the contrary, it will do very well. My cousin Anne shakes her head. +She is not satisfied. She is fastidious. My dear cousin” (sitting down by +her), “you have a better right to be fastidious than almost any other +woman I know; but will it answer? Will it make you happy? Will it not be wiser +to accept the society of those good ladies in Laura Place, and enjoy all the +advantages of the connexion as far as possible? You may depend upon it, that +they will move in the first set in Bath this winter, and as rank is rank, your +being known to be related to them will have its use in fixing your family (our +family let me say) in that degree of consideration which we must all wish +for.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” sighed Anne, “we shall, indeed, be known to be related +to them!” then recollecting herself, and not wishing to be answered, she +added, “I certainly do think there has been by far too much trouble taken +to procure the acquaintance. I suppose” (smiling) “I have more +pride than any of you; but I confess it does vex me, that we should be so +solicitous to have the relationship acknowledged, which we may be very sure is +a matter of perfect indifference to them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, dear cousin, you are unjust in your own claims. In London, +perhaps, in your present quiet style of living, it might be as you say: but in +Bath; Sir Walter Elliot and his family will always be worth knowing: always +acceptable as acquaintance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Anne, “I certainly am proud, too proud to enjoy +a welcome which depends so entirely upon place.” +</p> + +<p> +“I love your indignation,” said he; “it is very natural. But +here you are in Bath, and the object is to be established here with all the +credit and dignity which ought to belong to Sir Walter Elliot. You talk of +being proud; I am called proud, I know, and I shall not wish to believe myself +otherwise; for our pride, if investigated, would have the same object, I have +no doubt, though the kind may seem a little different. In one point, I am sure, +my dear cousin,” (he continued, speaking lower, though there was no one +else in the room) “in one point, I am sure, we must feel alike. We must +feel that every addition to your father’s society, among his equals or +superiors, may be of use in diverting his thoughts from those who are beneath +him.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked, as he spoke, to the seat which Mrs Clay had been lately occupying: a +sufficient explanation of what he particularly meant; and though Anne could not +believe in their having the same sort of pride, she was pleased with him for +not liking Mrs Clay; and her conscience admitted that his wishing to promote +her father’s getting great acquaintance was more than excusable in the +view of defeating her. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<p> +While Sir Walter and Elizabeth were assiduously pushing their good fortune in +Laura Place, Anne was renewing an acquaintance of a very different description. +</p> + +<p> +She had called on her former governess, and had heard from her of there being +an old schoolfellow in Bath, who had the two strong claims on her attention of +past kindness and present suffering. Miss Hamilton, now Mrs Smith, had shewn +her kindness in one of those periods of her life when it had been most +valuable. Anne had gone unhappy to school, grieving for the loss of a mother +whom she had dearly loved, feeling her separation from home, and suffering as a +girl of fourteen, of strong sensibility and not high spirits, must suffer at +such a time; and Miss Hamilton, three years older than herself, but still from +the want of near relations and a settled home, remaining another year at +school, had been useful and good to her in a way which had considerably +lessened her misery, and could never be remembered with indifference. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Hamilton had left school, had married not long afterwards, was said to +have married a man of fortune, and this was all that Anne had known of her, +till now that their governess’s account brought her situation forward in +a more decided but very different form. +</p> + +<p> +She was a widow and poor. Her husband had been extravagant; and at his death, +about two years before, had left his affairs dreadfully involved. She had had +difficulties of every sort to contend with, and in addition to these distresses +had been afflicted with a severe rheumatic fever, which, finally settling in +her legs, had made her for the present a cripple. She had come to Bath on that +account, and was now in lodgings near the hot baths, living in a very humble +way, unable even to afford herself the comfort of a servant, and of course +almost excluded from society. +</p> + +<p> +Their mutual friend answered for the satisfaction which a visit from Miss +Elliot would give Mrs Smith, and Anne therefore lost no time in going. She +mentioned nothing of what she had heard, or what she intended, at home. It +would excite no proper interest there. She only consulted Lady Russell, who +entered thoroughly into her sentiments, and was most happy to convey her as +near to Mrs Smith’s lodgings in Westgate Buildings, as Anne chose to be +taken. +</p> + +<p> +The visit was paid, their acquaintance re-established, their interest in each +other more than re-kindled. The first ten minutes had its awkwardness and its +emotion. Twelve years were gone since they had parted, and each presented a +somewhat different person from what the other had imagined. Twelve years had +changed Anne from the blooming, silent, unformed girl of fifteen, to the +elegant little woman of seven-and-twenty, with every beauty except bloom, and +with manners as consciously right as they were invariably gentle; and twelve +years had transformed the fine-looking, well-grown Miss Hamilton, in all the +glow of health and confidence of superiority, into a poor, infirm, helpless +widow, receiving the visit of her former protegee as a favour; but all that was +uncomfortable in the meeting had soon passed away, and left only the +interesting charm of remembering former partialities and talking over old +times. +</p> + +<p> +Anne found in Mrs Smith the good sense and agreeable manners which she had +almost ventured to depend on, and a disposition to converse and be cheerful +beyond her expectation. Neither the dissipations of the past—and she had +lived very much in the world—nor the restrictions of the present, neither +sickness nor sorrow seemed to have closed her heart or ruined her spirits. +</p> + +<p> +In the course of a second visit she talked with great openness, and +Anne’s astonishment increased. She could scarcely imagine a more +cheerless situation in itself than Mrs Smith’s. She had been very fond of +her husband: she had buried him. She had been used to affluence: it was gone. +She had no child to connect her with life and happiness again, no relations to +assist in the arrangement of perplexed affairs, no health to make all the rest +supportable. Her accommodations were limited to a noisy parlour, and a dark +bedroom behind, with no possibility of moving from one to the other without +assistance, which there was only one servant in the house to afford, and she +never quitted the house but to be conveyed into the warm bath. Yet, in spite of +all this, Anne had reason to believe that she had moments only of languor and +depression, to hours of occupation and enjoyment. How could it be? She watched, +observed, reflected, and finally determined that this was not a case of +fortitude or of resignation only. A submissive spirit might be patient, a +strong understanding would supply resolution, but here was something more; here +was that elasticity of mind, that disposition to be comforted, that power of +turning readily from evil to good, and of finding employment which carried her +out of herself, which was from nature alone. It was the choicest gift of +Heaven; and Anne viewed her friend as one of those instances in which, by a +merciful appointment, it seems designed to counterbalance almost every other +want. +</p> + +<p> +There had been a time, Mrs Smith told her, when her spirits had nearly failed. +She could not call herself an invalid now, compared with her state on first +reaching Bath. Then she had, indeed, been a pitiable object; for she had caught +cold on the journey, and had hardly taken possession of her lodgings before she +was again confined to her bed and suffering under severe and constant pain; and +all this among strangers, with the absolute necessity of having a regular +nurse, and finances at that moment particularly unfit to meet any extraordinary +expense. She had weathered it, however, and could truly say that it had done +her good. It had increased her comforts by making her feel herself to be in +good hands. She had seen too much of the world, to expect sudden or +disinterested attachment anywhere, but her illness had proved to her that her +landlady had a character to preserve, and would not use her ill; and she had +been particularly fortunate in her nurse, as a sister of her landlady, a nurse +by profession, and who had always a home in that house when unemployed, chanced +to be at liberty just in time to attend her. “And she,” said Mrs +Smith, “besides nursing me most admirably, has really proved an +invaluable acquaintance. As soon as I could use my hands she taught me to knit, +which has been a great amusement; and she put me in the way of making these +little thread-cases, pin-cushions and card-racks, which you always find me so +busy about, and which supply me with the means of doing a little good to one or +two very poor families in this neighbourhood. She had a large acquaintance, of +course professionally, among those who can afford to buy, and she disposes of +my merchandise. She always takes the right time for applying. Everybody’s +heart is open, you know, when they have recently escaped from severe pain, or +are recovering the blessing of health, and Nurse Rooke thoroughly understands +when to speak. She is a shrewd, intelligent, sensible woman. Hers is a line for +seeing human nature; and she has a fund of good sense and observation, which, +as a companion, make her infinitely superior to thousands of those who having +only received ‘the best education in the world,’ know nothing worth +attending to. Call it gossip, if you will, but when Nurse Rooke has half an +hour’s leisure to bestow on me, she is sure to have something to relate +that is entertaining and profitable: something that makes one know one’s +species better. One likes to hear what is going on, to be <i>au fait</i> as to +the newest modes of being trifling and silly. To me, who live so much alone, +her conversation, I assure you, is a treat.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne, far from wishing to cavil at the pleasure, replied, “I can easily +believe it. Women of that class have great opportunities, and if they are +intelligent may be well worth listening to. Such varieties of human nature as +they are in the habit of witnessing! And it is not merely in its follies, that +they are well read; for they see it occasionally under every circumstance that +can be most interesting or affecting. What instances must pass before them of +ardent, disinterested, self-denying attachment, of heroism, fortitude, +patience, resignation: of all the conflicts and all the sacrifices that ennoble +us most. A sick chamber may often furnish the worth of volumes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Mrs Smith more doubtingly, “sometimes it may, +though I fear its lessons are not often in the elevated style you describe. +Here and there, human nature may be great in times of trial; but generally +speaking, it is its weakness and not its strength that appears in a sick +chamber: it is selfishness and impatience rather than generosity and fortitude, +that one hears of. There is so little real friendship in the world! and +unfortunately” (speaking low and tremulously) “there are so many +who forget to think seriously till it is almost too late.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne saw the misery of such feelings. The husband had not been what he ought, +and the wife had been led among that part of mankind which made her think worse +of the world than she hoped it deserved. It was but a passing emotion however +with Mrs Smith; she shook it off, and soon added in a different tone— +</p> + +<p> +“I do not suppose the situation my friend Mrs Rooke is in at present, +will furnish much either to interest or edify me. She is only nursing Mrs +Wallis of Marlborough Buildings; a mere pretty, silly, expensive, fashionable +woman, I believe; and of course will have nothing to report but of lace and +finery. I mean to make my profit of Mrs Wallis, however. She has plenty of +money, and I intend she shall buy all the high-priced things I have in hand +now.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne had called several times on her friend, before the existence of such a +person was known in Camden Place. At last, it became necessary to speak of her. +Sir Walter, Elizabeth and Mrs Clay, returned one morning from Laura Place, with +a sudden invitation from Lady Dalrymple for the same evening, and Anne was +already engaged, to spend that evening in Westgate Buildings. She was not sorry +for the excuse. They were only asked, she was sure, because Lady Dalrymple +being kept at home by a bad cold, was glad to make use of the relationship +which had been so pressed on her; and she declined on her own account with +great alacrity—“She was engaged to spend the evening with an old +schoolfellow.” They were not much interested in anything relative to +Anne; but still there were questions enough asked, to make it understood what +this old schoolfellow was; and Elizabeth was disdainful, and Sir Walter severe. +</p> + +<p> +“Westgate Buildings!” said he, “and who is Miss Anne Elliot +to be visiting in Westgate Buildings? A Mrs Smith. A widow Mrs Smith; and who +was her husband? One of five thousand Mr Smiths whose names are to be met with +everywhere. And what is her attraction? That she is old and sickly. Upon my +word, Miss Anne Elliot, you have the most extraordinary taste! Everything that +revolts other people, low company, paltry rooms, foul air, disgusting +associations are inviting to you. But surely you may put off this old lady till +to-morrow: she is not so near her end, I presume, but that she may hope to see +another day. What is her age? Forty?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir, she is not one-and-thirty; but I do not think I can put off my +engagement, because it is the only evening for some time which will at once +suit her and myself. She goes into the warm bath to-morrow, and for the rest of +the week, you know, we are engaged.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what does Lady Russell think of this acquaintance?” asked +Elizabeth. +</p> + +<p> +“She sees nothing to blame in it,” replied Anne; “on the +contrary, she approves it, and has generally taken me when I have called on Mrs +Smith.” +</p> + +<p> +“Westgate Buildings must have been rather surprised by the appearance of +a carriage drawn up near its pavement,” observed Sir Walter. “Sir +Henry Russell’s widow, indeed, has no honours to distinguish her arms, +but still it is a handsome equipage, and no doubt is well known to convey a +Miss Elliot. A widow Mrs Smith lodging in Westgate Buildings! A poor widow +barely able to live, between thirty and forty; a mere Mrs Smith, an every-day +Mrs Smith, of all people and all names in the world, to be the chosen friend of +Miss Anne Elliot, and to be preferred by her to her own family connections +among the nobility of England and Ireland! Mrs Smith! Such a name!” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Clay, who had been present while all this passed, now thought it advisable +to leave the room, and Anne could have said much, and did long to say a little +in defence of <i>her</i> friend’s not very dissimilar claims to theirs, +but her sense of personal respect to her father prevented her. She made no +reply. She left it to himself to recollect, that Mrs Smith was not the only +widow in Bath between thirty and forty, with little to live on, and no surname +of dignity. +</p> + +<p> +Anne kept her appointment; the others kept theirs, and of course she heard the +next morning that they had had a delightful evening. She had been the only one +of the set absent, for Sir Walter and Elizabeth had not only been quite at her +ladyship’s service themselves, but had actually been happy to be employed +by her in collecting others, and had been at the trouble of inviting both Lady +Russell and Mr Elliot; and Mr Elliot had made a point of leaving Colonel Wallis +early, and Lady Russell had fresh arranged all her evening engagements in order +to wait on her. Anne had the whole history of all that such an evening could +supply from Lady Russell. To her, its greatest interest must be, in having been +very much talked of between her friend and Mr Elliot; in having been wished +for, regretted, and at the same time honoured for staying away in such a cause. +Her kind, compassionate visits to this old schoolfellow, sick and reduced, +seemed to have quite delighted Mr Elliot. He thought her a most extraordinary +young woman; in her temper, manners, mind, a model of female excellence. He +could meet even Lady Russell in a discussion of her merits; and Anne could not +be given to understand so much by her friend, could not know herself to be so +highly rated by a sensible man, without many of those agreeable sensations +which her friend meant to create. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell was now perfectly decided in her opinion of Mr Elliot. She was as +much convinced of his meaning to gain Anne in time as of his deserving her, and +was beginning to calculate the number of weeks which would free him from all +the remaining restraints of widowhood, and leave him at liberty to exert his +most open powers of pleasing. She would not speak to Anne with half the +certainty she felt on the subject, she would venture on little more than hints +of what might be hereafter, of a possible attachment on his side, of the +desirableness of the alliance, supposing such attachment to be real and +returned. Anne heard her, and made no violent exclamations; she only smiled, +blushed, and gently shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +“I am no match-maker, as you well know,” said Lady Russell, +“being much too well aware of the uncertainty of all human events and +calculations. I only mean that if Mr Elliot should some time hence pay his +addresses to you, and if you should be disposed to accept him, I think there +would be every possibility of your being happy together. A most suitable +connection everybody must consider it, but I think it might be a very happy +one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr Elliot is an exceedingly agreeable man, and in many respects I think +highly of him,” said Anne; “but we should not suit.” +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell let this pass, and only said in rejoinder, “I own that to be +able to regard you as the future mistress of Kellynch, the future Lady Elliot, +to look forward and see you occupying your dear mother’s place, +succeeding to all her rights, and all her popularity, as well as to all her +virtues, would be the highest possible gratification to me. You are your +mother’s self in countenance and disposition; and if I might be allowed +to fancy you such as she was, in situation and name, and home, presiding and +blessing in the same spot, and only superior to her in being more highly +valued! My dearest Anne, it would give me more delight than is often felt at my +time of life!” +</p> + +<p> +Anne was obliged to turn away, to rise, to walk to a distant table, and, +leaning there in pretended employment, try to subdue the feelings this picture +excited. For a few moments her imagination and her heart were bewitched. The +idea of becoming what her mother had been; of having the precious name of +“Lady Elliot” first revived in herself; of being restored to +Kellynch, calling it her home again, her home for ever, was a charm which she +could not immediately resist. Lady Russell said not another word, willing to +leave the matter to its own operation; and believing that, could Mr Elliot at +that moment with propriety have spoken for himself!—she believed, in +short, what Anne did not believe. The same image of Mr Elliot speaking for +himself brought Anne to composure again. The charm of Kellynch and of +“Lady Elliot” all faded away. She never could accept him. And it +was not only that her feelings were still adverse to any man save one; her +judgement, on a serious consideration of the possibilities of such a case, was +against Mr Elliot. +</p> + +<p> +Though they had now been acquainted a month, she could not be satisfied that +she really knew his character. That he was a sensible man, an agreeable man, +that he talked well, professed good opinions, seemed to judge properly and as a +man of principle, this was all clear enough. He certainly knew what was right, +nor could she fix on any one article of moral duty evidently transgressed; but +yet she would have been afraid to answer for his conduct. She distrusted the +past, if not the present. The names which occasionally dropt of former +associates, the allusions to former practices and pursuits, suggested +suspicions not favourable of what he had been. She saw that there had been bad +habits; that Sunday travelling had been a common thing; that there had been a +period of his life (and probably not a short one) when he had been, at least, +careless in all serious matters; and, though he might now think very +differently, who could answer for the true sentiments of a clever, cautious +man, grown old enough to appreciate a fair character? How could it ever be +ascertained that his mind was truly cleansed? +</p> + +<p> +Mr Elliot was rational, discreet, polished, but he was not open. There was +never any burst of feeling, any warmth of indignation or delight, at the evil +or good of others. This, to Anne, was a decided imperfection. Her early +impressions were incurable. She prized the frank, the open-hearted, the eager +character beyond all others. Warmth and enthusiasm did captivate her still. She +felt that she could so much more depend upon the sincerity of those who +sometimes looked or said a careless or a hasty thing, than of those whose +presence of mind never varied, whose tongue never slipped. +</p> + +<p> +Mr Elliot was too generally agreeable. Various as were the tempers in her +father’s house, he pleased them all. He endured too well, stood too well +with every body. He had spoken to her with some degree of openness of Mrs Clay; +had appeared completely to see what Mrs Clay was about, and to hold her in +contempt; and yet Mrs Clay found him as agreeable as any body. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Russell saw either less or more than her young friend, for she saw nothing +to excite distrust. She could not imagine a man more exactly what he ought to +be than Mr Elliot; nor did she ever enjoy a sweeter feeling than the hope of +seeing him receive the hand of her beloved Anne in Kellynch church, in the +course of the following autumn. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<p> +It was the beginning of February; and Anne, having been a month in Bath, was +growing very eager for news from Uppercross and Lyme. She wanted to hear much +more than Mary had communicated. It was three weeks since she had heard at all. +She only knew that Henrietta was at home again; and that Louisa, though +considered to be recovering fast, was still in Lyme; and she was thinking of +them all very intently one evening, when a thicker letter than usual from Mary +was delivered to her; and, to quicken the pleasure and surprise, with Admiral +and Mrs Croft’s compliments. +</p> + +<p> +The Crofts must be in Bath! A circumstance to interest her. They were people +whom her heart turned to very naturally. +</p> + +<p> +“What is this?” cried Sir Walter. “The Crofts have arrived in +Bath? The Crofts who rent Kellynch? What have they brought you?” +</p> + +<p> +“A letter from Uppercross Cottage, Sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! those letters are convenient passports. They secure an introduction. +I should have visited Admiral Croft, however, at any rate. I know what is due +to my tenant.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne could listen no longer; she could not even have told how the poor +Admiral’s complexion escaped; her letter engrossed her. It had been begun +several days back. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“February 1st. +</p> + +<div class="letter"> + +<p> +“<small>MY DEAR ANNE</small>, +</p> + +<p> +I make no apology for my silence, because I know how little people think of +letters in such a place as Bath. You must be a great deal too happy to care for +Uppercross, which, as you well know, affords little to write about. We have had +a very dull Christmas; Mr and Mrs Musgrove have not had one dinner party all +the holidays. I do not reckon the Hayters as anybody. The holidays, however, +are over at last: I believe no children ever had such long ones. I am sure I +had not. The house was cleared yesterday, except of the little Harvilles; but +you will be surprised to hear they have never gone home. Mrs Harville must be +an odd mother to part with them so long. I do not understand it. They are not +at all nice children, in my opinion; but Mrs Musgrove seems to like them quite +as well, if not better, than her grandchildren. What dreadful weather we have +had! It may not be felt in Bath, with your nice pavements; but in the country +it is of some consequence. I have not had a creature call on me since the +second week in January, except Charles Hayter, who had been calling much +oftener than was welcome. Between ourselves, I think it a great pity Henrietta +did not remain at Lyme as long as Louisa; it would have kept her a little out +of his way. The carriage is gone to-day, to bring Louisa and the Harvilles +to-morrow. We are not asked to dine with them, however, till the day after, Mrs +Musgrove is so afraid of her being fatigued by the journey, which is not very +likely, considering the care that will be taken of her; and it would be much +more convenient to me to dine there to-morrow. I am glad you find Mr Elliot so +agreeable, and wish I could be acquainted with him too; but I have my usual +luck: I am always out of the way when any thing desirable is going on; always +the last of my family to be noticed. What an immense time Mrs Clay has been +staying with Elizabeth! Does she never mean to go away? But perhaps if she were +to leave the room vacant, we might not be invited. Let me know what you think +of this. I do not expect my children to be asked, you know. I can leave them at +the Great House very well, for a month or six weeks. I have this moment heard +that the Crofts are going to Bath almost immediately; they think the Admiral +gouty. Charles heard it quite by chance; they have not had the civility to give +me any notice, or of offering to take anything. I do not think they improve at +all as neighbours. We see nothing of them, and this is really an instance of +gross inattention. Charles joins me in love, and everything proper. Yours +affectionately, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“<small>MARY M</small>——. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry to say that I am very far from well; and Jemima has just told +me that the butcher says there is a bad sore-throat very much about. I dare say +I shall catch it; and my sore-throats, you know, are always worse than +anybody’s.” +</p> + +</div> + +<p class="p2"> +So ended the first part, which had been afterwards put into an envelope, +containing nearly as much more. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +“I kept my letter open, that I might send you word how Louisa bore her +journey, and now I am extremely glad I did, having a great deal to add. In the +first place, I had a note from Mrs Croft yesterday, offering to convey anything +to you; a very kind, friendly note indeed, addressed to me, just as it ought; I +shall therefore be able to make my letter as long as I like. The Admiral does +not seem very ill, and I sincerely hope Bath will do him all the good he wants. +I shall be truly glad to have them back again. Our neighbourhood cannot spare +such a pleasant family. But now for Louisa. I have something to communicate +that will astonish you not a little. She and the Harvilles came on Tuesday very +safely, and in the evening we went to ask her how she did, when we were rather +surprised not to find Captain Benwick of the party, for he had been invited as +well as the Harvilles; and what do you think was the reason? Neither more nor +less than his being in love with Louisa, and not choosing to venture to +Uppercross till he had had an answer from Mr Musgrove; for it was all settled +between him and her before she came away, and he had written to her father by +Captain Harville. True, upon my honour! Are not you astonished? I shall be +surprised at least if you ever received a hint of it, for I never did. Mrs +Musgrove protests solemnly that she knew nothing of the matter. We are all very +well pleased, however, for though it is not equal to her marrying Captain +Wentworth, it is infinitely better than Charles Hayter; and Mr Musgrove has +written his consent, and Captain Benwick is expected to-day. Mrs Harville says +her husband feels a good deal on his poor sister’s account; but, however, +Louisa is a great favourite with both. Indeed, Mrs Harville and I quite agree +that we love her the better for having nursed her. Charles wonders what Captain +Wentworth will say; but if you remember, I never thought him attached to +Louisa; I never could see anything of it. And this is the end, you see, of +Captain Benwick’s being supposed to be an admirer of yours. How Charles +could take such a thing into his head was always incomprehensible to me. I hope +he will be more agreeable now. Certainly not a great match for Louisa Musgrove, +but a million times better than marrying among the Hayters.” +</p> + +<p class="p2"> +Mary need not have feared her sister’s being in any degree prepared for +the news. She had never in her life been more astonished. Captain Benwick and +Louisa Musgrove! It was almost too wonderful for belief, and it was with the +greatest effort that she could remain in the room, preserve an air of calmness, +and answer the common questions of the moment. Happily for her, they were not +many. Sir Walter wanted to know whether the Crofts travelled with four horses, +and whether they were likely to be situated in such a part of Bath as it might +suit Miss Elliot and himself to visit in; but had little curiosity beyond. +</p> + +<p> +“How is Mary?” said Elizabeth; and without waiting for an answer, +“And pray what brings the Crofts to Bath?” +</p> + +<p> +“They come on the Admiral’s account. He is thought to be +gouty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gout and decrepitude!” said Sir Walter. “Poor old +gentleman.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have they any acquaintance here?” asked Elizabeth. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know; but I can hardly suppose that, at Admiral Croft’s +time of life, and in his profession, he should not have many acquaintance in +such a place as this.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suspect,” said Sir Walter coolly, “that Admiral Croft will +be best known in Bath as the renter of Kellynch Hall. Elizabeth, may we venture +to present him and his wife in Laura Place?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no! I think not. Situated as we are with Lady Dalrymple, cousins, we +ought to be very careful not to embarrass her with acquaintance she might not +approve. If we were not related, it would not signify; but as cousins, she +would feel scrupulous as to any proposal of ours. We had better leave the +Crofts to find their own level. There are several odd-looking men walking about +here, who, I am told, are sailors. The Crofts will associate with them.” +</p> + +<p> +This was Sir Walter and Elizabeth’s share of interest in the letter; when +Mrs Clay had paid her tribute of more decent attention, in an enquiry after Mrs +Charles Musgrove, and her fine little boys, Anne was at liberty. +</p> + +<p> +In her own room, she tried to comprehend it. Well might Charles wonder how +Captain Wentworth would feel! Perhaps he had quitted the field, had given +Louisa up, had ceased to love, had found he did not love her. She could not +endure the idea of treachery or levity, or anything akin to ill usage between +him and his friend. She could not endure that such a friendship as theirs +should be severed unfairly. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Benwick and Louisa Musgrove! The high-spirited, joyous-talking Louisa +Musgrove, and the dejected, thinking, feeling, reading, Captain Benwick, seemed +each of them everything that would not suit the other. Their minds most +dissimilar! Where could have been the attraction? The answer soon presented +itself. It had been in situation. They had been thrown together several weeks; +they had been living in the same small family party: since Henrietta’s +coming away, they must have been depending almost entirely on each other, and +Louisa, just recovering from illness, had been in an interesting state, and +Captain Benwick was not inconsolable. That was a point which Anne had not been +able to avoid suspecting before; and instead of drawing the same conclusion as +Mary, from the present course of events, they served only to confirm the idea +of his having felt some dawning of tenderness toward herself. She did not mean, +however, to derive much more from it to gratify her vanity, than Mary might +have allowed. She was persuaded that any tolerably pleasing young woman who had +listened and seemed to feel for him would have received the same compliment. He +had an affectionate heart. He must love somebody. +</p> + +<p> +She saw no reason against their being happy. Louisa had fine naval fervour to +begin with, and they would soon grow more alike. He would gain cheerfulness, +and she would learn to be an enthusiast for Scott and Lord Byron; nay, that was +probably learnt already; of course they had fallen in love over poetry. The +idea of Louisa Musgrove turned into a person of literary taste, and sentimental +reflection was amusing, but she had no doubt of its being so. The day at Lyme, +the fall from the Cobb, might influence her health, her nerves, her courage, +her character to the end of her life, as thoroughly as it appeared to have +influenced her fate. +</p> + +<p> +The conclusion of the whole was, that if the woman who had been sensible of +Captain Wentworth’s merits could be allowed to prefer another man, there +was nothing in the engagement to excite lasting wonder; and if Captain +Wentworth lost no friend by it, certainly nothing to be regretted. No, it was +not regret which made Anne’s heart beat in spite of herself, and brought +the colour into her cheeks when she thought of Captain Wentworth unshackled and +free. She had some feelings which she was ashamed to investigate. They were too +much like joy, senseless joy! +</p> + +<p> +She longed to see the Crofts; but when the meeting took place, it was evident +that no rumour of the news had yet reached them. The visit of ceremony was paid +and returned; and Louisa Musgrove was mentioned, and Captain Benwick, too, +without even half a smile. +</p> + +<p> +The Crofts had placed themselves in lodgings in Gay Street, perfectly to Sir +Walter’s satisfaction. He was not at all ashamed of the acquaintance, and +did, in fact, think and talk a great deal more about the Admiral, than the +Admiral ever thought or talked about him. +</p> + +<p> +The Crofts knew quite as many people in Bath as they wished for, and considered +their intercourse with the Elliots as a mere matter of form, and not in the +least likely to afford them any pleasure. They brought with them their country +habit of being almost always together. He was ordered to walk to keep off the +gout, and Mrs Croft seemed to go shares with him in everything, and to walk for +her life to do him good. Anne saw them wherever she went. Lady Russell took her +out in her carriage almost every morning, and she never failed to think of +them, and never failed to see them. Knowing their feelings as she did, it was a +most attractive picture of happiness to her. She always watched them as long as +she could, delighted to fancy she understood what they might be talking of, as +they walked along in happy independence, or equally delighted to see the +Admiral’s hearty shake of the hand when he encountered an old friend, and +observe their eagerness of conversation when occasionally forming into a little +knot of the navy, Mrs Croft looking as intelligent and keen as any of the +officers around her. +</p> + +<p> +Anne was too much engaged with Lady Russell to be often walking herself; but it +so happened that one morning, about a week or ten days after the Croft’s +arrival, it suited her best to leave her friend, or her friend’s +carriage, in the lower part of the town, and return alone to Camden Place, and +in walking up Milsom Street she had the good fortune to meet with the Admiral. +He was standing by himself at a printshop window, with his hands behind him, in +earnest contemplation of some print, and she not only might have passed him +unseen, but was obliged to touch as well as address him before she could catch +his notice. When he did perceive and acknowledge her, however, it was done with +all his usual frankness and good humour. “Ha! is it you? Thank you, thank +you. This is treating me like a friend. Here I am, you see, staring at a +picture. I can never get by this shop without stopping. But what a thing here +is, by way of a boat! Do look at it. Did you ever see the like? What queer +fellows your fine painters must be, to think that anybody would venture their +lives in such a shapeless old cockleshell as that? And yet here are two +gentlemen stuck up in it mightily at their ease, and looking about them at the +rocks and mountains, as if they were not to be upset the next moment, which +they certainly must be. I wonder where that boat was built!” (laughing +heartily); “I would not venture over a horsepond in it. Well,” +(turning away), “now, where are you bound? Can I go anywhere for you, or +with you? Can I be of any use?” +</p> + +<p> +“None, I thank you, unless you will give me the pleasure of your company +the little way our road lies together. I am going home.” +</p> + +<p> +“That I will, with all my heart, and farther, too. Yes, yes we will have +a snug walk together, and I have something to tell you as we go along. There, +take my arm; that’s right; I do not feel comfortable if I have not a +woman there. Lord! what a boat it is!” taking a last look at the picture, +as they began to be in motion. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you say that you had something to tell me, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I have, presently. But here comes a friend, Captain Brigden; I +shall only say, ‘How d’ye do?’ as we pass, however. I shall +not stop. ‘How d’ye do?’ Brigden stares to see anybody with +me but my wife. She, poor soul, is tied by the leg. She has a blister on one of +her heels, as large as a three-shilling piece. If you look across the street, +you will see Admiral Brand coming down and his brother. Shabby fellows, both of +them! I am glad they are not on this side of the way. Sophy cannot bear them. +They played me a pitiful trick once: got away with some of my best men. I will +tell you the whole story another time. There comes old Sir Archibald Drew and +his grandson. Look, he sees us; he kisses his hand to you; he takes you for my +wife. Ah! the peace has come too soon for that younker. Poor old Sir Archibald! +How do you like Bath, Miss Elliot? It suits us very well. We are always meeting +with some old friend or other; the streets full of them every morning; sure to +have plenty of chat; and then we get away from them all, and shut ourselves in +our lodgings, and draw in our chairs, and are as snug as if we were at +Kellynch, ay, or as we used to be even at North Yarmouth and Deal. We do not +like our lodgings here the worse, I can tell you, for putting us in mind of +those we first had at North Yarmouth. The wind blows through one of the +cupboards just in the same way.” +</p> + +<p> +When they were got a little farther, Anne ventured to press again for what he +had to communicate. She hoped when clear of Milsom Street to have her curiosity +gratified; but she was still obliged to wait, for the Admiral had made up his +mind not to begin till they had gained the greater space and quiet of Belmont; +and as she was not really Mrs Croft, she must let him have his own way. As soon +as they were fairly ascending Belmont, he began— +</p> + +<p> +“Well, now you shall hear something that will surprise you. But first of +all, you must tell me the name of the young lady I am going to talk about. That +young lady, you know, that we have all been so concerned for. The Miss +Musgrove, that all this has been happening to. Her Christian name: I always +forget her Christian name.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne had been ashamed to appear to comprehend so soon as she really did; but +now she could safely suggest the name of “Louisa.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ay, ay, Miss Louisa Musgrove, that is the name. I wish young ladies had +not such a number of fine Christian names. I should never be out if they were +all Sophys, or something of that sort. Well, this Miss Louisa, we all thought, +you know, was to marry Frederick. He was courting her week after week. The only +wonder was, what they could be waiting for, till the business at Lyme came; +then, indeed, it was clear enough that they must wait till her brain was set to +right. But even then there was something odd in their way of going on. Instead +of staying at Lyme, he went off to Plymouth, and then he went off to see +Edward. When we came back from Minehead he was gone down to Edward’s, and +there he has been ever since. We have seen nothing of him since November. Even +Sophy could not understand it. But now, the matter has taken the strangest turn +of all; for this young lady, the same Miss Musgrove, instead of being to marry +Frederick, is to marry James Benwick. You know James Benwick.” +</p> + +<p> +“A little. I am a little acquainted with Captain Benwick.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, she is to marry him. Nay, most likely they are married already, +for I do not know what they should wait for.” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought Captain Benwick a very pleasing young man,” said Anne, +“and I understand that he bears an excellent character.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! yes, yes, there is not a word to be said against James Benwick. He +is only a commander, it is true, made last summer, and these are bad times for +getting on, but he has not another fault that I know of. An excellent, +good-hearted fellow, I assure you; a very active, zealous officer too, which is +more than you would think for, perhaps, for that soft sort of manner does not +do him justice.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed you are mistaken there, sir; I should never augur want of spirit +from Captain Benwick’s manners. I thought them particularly pleasing, and +I will answer for it, they would generally please.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, ladies are the best judges; but James Benwick is rather too +piano for me; and though very likely it is all our partiality, Sophy and I +cannot help thinking Frederick’s manners better than his. There is +something about Frederick more to our taste.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne was caught. She had only meant to oppose the too common idea of spirit and +gentleness being incompatible with each other, not at all to represent Captain +Benwick’s manners as the very best that could possibly be; and, after a +little hesitation, she was beginning to say, “I was not entering into any +comparison of the two friends,” but the Admiral interrupted her +with— +</p> + +<p> +“And the thing is certainly true. It is not a mere bit of gossip. We have +it from Frederick himself. His sister had a letter from him yesterday, in which +he tells us of it, and he had just had it in a letter from Harville, written +upon the spot, from Uppercross. I fancy they are all at Uppercross.” +</p> + +<p> +This was an opportunity which Anne could not resist; she said, therefore, +“I hope, Admiral, I hope there is nothing in the style of Captain +Wentworth’s letter to make you and Mrs Croft particularly uneasy. It did +seem, last autumn, as if there were an attachment between him and Louisa +Musgrove; but I hope it may be understood to have worn out on each side +equally, and without violence. I hope his letter does not breathe the spirit of +an ill-used man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all, not at all; there is not an oath or a murmur from beginning +to end.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne looked down to hide her smile. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; Frederick is not a man to whine and complain; he has too much +spirit for that. If the girl likes another man better, it is very fit she +should have him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly. But what I mean is, that I hope there is nothing in Captain +Wentworth’s manner of writing to make you suppose he thinks himself +ill-used by his friend, which might appear, you know, without its being +absolutely said. I should be very sorry that such a friendship as has subsisted +between him and Captain Benwick should be destroyed, or even wounded, by a +circumstance of this sort.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, I understand you. But there is nothing at all of that nature +in the letter. He does not give the least fling at Benwick; does not so much as +say, ‘I wonder at it, I have a reason of my own for wondering at +it.’ No, you would not guess, from his way of writing, that he had ever +thought of this Miss (what’s her name?) for himself. He very handsomely +hopes they will be happy together; and there is nothing very unforgiving in +that, I think.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne did not receive the perfect conviction which the Admiral meant to convey, +but it would have been useless to press the enquiry farther. She therefore +satisfied herself with common-place remarks or quiet attention, and the Admiral +had it all his own way. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Frederick!” said he at last. “Now he must begin all +over again with somebody else. I think we must get him to Bath. Sophy must +write, and beg him to come to Bath. Here are pretty girls enough, I am sure. It +would be of no use to go to Uppercross again, for that other Miss Musgrove, I +find, is bespoke by her cousin, the young parson. Do not you think, Miss +Elliot, we had better try to get him to Bath?” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap19"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<p> +While Admiral Croft was taking this walk with Anne, and expressing his wish of +getting Captain Wentworth to Bath, Captain Wentworth was already on his way +thither. Before Mrs Croft had written, he was arrived, and the very next time +Anne walked out, she saw him. +</p> + +<p> +Mr Elliot was attending his two cousins and Mrs Clay. They were in Milsom +Street. It began to rain, not much, but enough to make shelter desirable for +women, and quite enough to make it very desirable for Miss Elliot to have the +advantage of being conveyed home in Lady Dalrymple’s carriage, which was +seen waiting at a little distance; she, Anne, and Mrs Clay, therefore, turned +into Molland’s, while Mr Elliot stepped to Lady Dalrymple, to request her +assistance. He soon joined them again, successful, of course; Lady Dalrymple +would be most happy to take them home, and would call for them in a few +minutes. +</p> + +<p> +Her ladyship’s carriage was a barouche, and did not hold more than four +with any comfort. Miss Carteret was with her mother; consequently it was not +reasonable to expect accommodation for all the three Camden Place ladies. There +could be no doubt as to Miss Elliot. Whoever suffered inconvenience, she must +suffer none, but it occupied a little time to settle the point of civility +between the other two. The rain was a mere trifle, and Anne was most sincere in +preferring a walk with Mr Elliot. But the rain was also a mere trifle to Mrs +Clay; she would hardly allow it even to drop at all, and her boots were so +thick! much thicker than Miss Anne’s; and, in short, her civility +rendered her quite as anxious to be left to walk with Mr Elliot as Anne could +be, and it was discussed between them with a generosity so polite and so +determined, that the others were obliged to settle it for them; Miss Elliot +maintaining that Mrs Clay had a little cold already, and Mr Elliot deciding on +appeal, that his cousin Anne’s boots were rather the thickest. +</p> + +<p> +It was fixed accordingly, that Mrs Clay should be of the party in the carriage; +and they had just reached this point, when Anne, as she sat near the window, +descried, most decidedly and distinctly, Captain Wentworth walking down the +street. +</p> + +<p> +Her start was perceptible only to herself; but she instantly felt that she was +the greatest simpleton in the world, the most unaccountable and absurd! For a +few minutes she saw nothing before her; it was all confusion. She was lost, and +when she had scolded back her senses, she found the others still waiting for +the carriage, and Mr Elliot (always obliging) just setting off for Union Street +on a commission of Mrs Clay’s. +</p> + +<p> +She now felt a great inclination to go to the outer door; she wanted to see if +it rained. Why was she to suspect herself of another motive? Captain Wentworth +must be out of sight. She left her seat, she would go; one half of her should +not be always so much wiser than the other half, or always suspecting the other +of being worse than it was. She would see if it rained. She was sent back, +however, in a moment by the entrance of Captain Wentworth himself, among a +party of gentlemen and ladies, evidently his acquaintance, and whom he must +have joined a little below Milsom Street. He was more obviously struck and +confused by the sight of her than she had ever observed before; he looked quite +red. For the first time, since their renewed acquaintance, she felt that she +was betraying the least sensibility of the two. She had the advantage of him in +the preparation of the last few moments. All the overpowering, blinding, +bewildering, first effects of strong surprise were over with her. Still, +however, she had enough to feel! It was agitation, pain, pleasure, a something +between delight and misery. +</p> + +<p> +He spoke to her, and then turned away. The character of his manner was +embarrassment. She could not have called it either cold or friendly, or +anything so certainly as embarrassed. +</p> + +<p> +After a short interval, however, he came towards her, and spoke again. Mutual +enquiries on common subjects passed: neither of them, probably, much the wiser +for what they heard, and Anne continuing fully sensible of his being less at +ease than formerly. They had by dint of being so very much together, got to +speak to each other with a considerable portion of apparent indifference and +calmness; but he could not do it now. Time had changed him, or Louisa had +changed him. There was consciousness of some sort or other. He looked very +well, not as if he had been suffering in health or spirits, and he talked of +Uppercross, of the Musgroves, nay, even of Louisa, and had even a momentary +look of his own arch significance as he named her; but yet it was Captain +Wentworth not comfortable, not easy, not able to feign that he was. +</p> + +<p> +It did not surprise, but it grieved Anne to observe that Elizabeth would not +know him. She saw that he saw Elizabeth, that Elizabeth saw him, that there was +complete internal recognition on each side; she was convinced that he was ready +to be acknowledged as an acquaintance, expecting it, and she had the pain of +seeing her sister turn away with unalterable coldness. +</p> + +<p> +Lady Dalrymple’s carriage, for which Miss Elliot was growing very +impatient, now drew up; the servant came in to announce it. It was beginning to +rain again, and altogether there was a delay, and a bustle, and a talking, +which must make all the little crowd in the shop understand that Lady Dalrymple +was calling to convey Miss Elliot. At last Miss Elliot and her friend, +unattended but by the servant, (for there was no cousin returned), were walking +off; and Captain Wentworth, watching them, turned again to Anne, and by manner, +rather than words, was offering his services to her. +</p> + +<p> +“I am much obliged to you,” was her answer, “but I am not +going with them. The carriage would not accommodate so many. I walk: I prefer +walking.” +</p> + +<p> +“But it rains.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! very little. Nothing that I regard.” +</p> + +<p> +After a moment’s pause he said: “Though I came only yesterday, I +have equipped myself properly for Bath already, you see,” (pointing to a +new umbrella); “I wish you would make use of it, if you are determined to +walk; though I think it would be more prudent to let me get you a chair.” +</p> + +<p> +She was very much obliged to him, but declined it all, repeating her +conviction, that the rain would come to nothing at present, and adding, +“I am only waiting for Mr Elliot. He will be here in a moment, I am +sure.” +</p> + +<p> +She had hardly spoken the words when Mr Elliot walked in. Captain Wentworth +recollected him perfectly. There was no difference between him and the man who +had stood on the steps at Lyme, admiring Anne as she passed, except in the air +and look and manner of the privileged relation and friend. He came in with +eagerness, appeared to see and think only of her, apologised for his stay, was +grieved to have kept her waiting, and anxious to get her away without further +loss of time and before the rain increased; and in another moment they walked +off together, her arm under his, a gentle and embarrassed glance, and a +“Good morning to you!” being all that she had time for, as she +passed away. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as they were out of sight, the ladies of Captain Wentworth’s +party began talking of them. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr Elliot does not dislike his cousin, I fancy?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! no, that is clear enough. One can guess what will happen there. He +is always with them; half lives in the family, I believe. What a very +good-looking man!” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and Miss Atkinson, who dined with him once at the Wallises, says he +is the most agreeable man she ever was in company with.” +</p> + +<p> +“She is pretty, I think; Anne Elliot; very pretty, when one comes to look +at her. It is not the fashion to say so, but I confess I admire her more than +her sister.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! so do I.” +</p> + +<p> +“And so do I. No comparison. But the men are all wild after Miss Elliot. +Anne is too delicate for them.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne would have been particularly obliged to her cousin, if he would have +walked by her side all the way to Camden Place, without saying a word. She had +never found it so difficult to listen to him, though nothing could exceed his +solicitude and care, and though his subjects were principally such as were wont +to be always interesting: praise, warm, just, and discriminating, of Lady +Russell, and insinuations highly rational against Mrs Clay. But just now she +could think only of Captain Wentworth. She could not understand his present +feelings, whether he were really suffering much from disappointment or not; and +till that point were settled, she could not be quite herself. +</p> + +<p> +She hoped to be wise and reasonable in time; but alas! alas! she must confess +to herself that she was not wise yet. +</p> + +<p> +Another circumstance very essential for her to know, was how long he meant to +be in Bath; he had not mentioned it, or she could not recollect it. He might be +only passing through. But it was more probable that he should be come to stay. +In that case, so liable as every body was to meet every body in Bath, Lady +Russell would in all likelihood see him somewhere. Would she recollect him? How +would it all be? +</p> + +<p> +She had already been obliged to tell Lady Russell that Louisa Musgrove was to +marry Captain Benwick. It had cost her something to encounter Lady +Russell’s surprise; and now, if she were by any chance to be thrown into +company with Captain Wentworth, her imperfect knowledge of the matter might add +another shade of prejudice against him. +</p> + +<p> +The following morning Anne was out with her friend, and for the first hour, in +an incessant and fearful sort of watch for him in vain; but at last, in +returning down Pulteney Street, she distinguished him on the right hand +pavement at such a distance as to have him in view the greater part of the +street. There were many other men about him, many groups walking the same way, +but there was no mistaking him. She looked instinctively at Lady Russell; but +not from any mad idea of her recognising him so soon as she did herself. No, it +was not to be supposed that Lady Russell would perceive him till they were +nearly opposite. She looked at her however, from time to time, anxiously; and +when the moment approached which must point him out, though not daring to look +again (for her own countenance she knew was unfit to be seen), she was yet +perfectly conscious of Lady Russell’s eyes being turned exactly in the +direction for him—of her being, in short, intently observing him. She +could thoroughly comprehend the sort of fascination he must possess over Lady +Russell’s mind, the difficulty it must be for her to withdraw her eyes, +the astonishment she must be feeling that eight or nine years should have +passed over him, and in foreign climes and in active service too, without +robbing him of one personal grace! +</p> + +<p> +At last, Lady Russell drew back her head. “Now, how would she speak of +him?” +</p> + +<p> +“You will wonder,” said she, “what has been fixing my eye so +long; but I was looking after some window-curtains, which Lady Alicia and Mrs +Frankland were telling me of last night. They described the drawing-room +window-curtains of one of the houses on this side of the way, and this part of +the street, as being the handsomest and best hung of any in Bath, but could not +recollect the exact number, and I have been trying to find out which it could +be; but I confess I can see no curtains hereabouts that answer their +description.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne sighed and blushed and smiled, in pity and disdain, either at her friend +or herself. The part which provoked her most, was that in all this waste of +foresight and caution, she should have lost the right moment for seeing whether +he saw them. +</p> + +<p> +A day or two passed without producing anything. The theatre or the rooms, where +he was most likely to be, were not fashionable enough for the Elliots, whose +evening amusements were solely in the elegant stupidity of private parties, in +which they were getting more and more engaged; and Anne, wearied of such a +state of stagnation, sick of knowing nothing, and fancying herself stronger +because her strength was not tried, was quite impatient for the concert +evening. It was a concert for the benefit of a person patronised by Lady +Dalrymple. Of course they must attend. It was really expected to be a good one, +and Captain Wentworth was very fond of music. If she could only have a few +minutes conversation with him again, she fancied she should be satisfied; and +as to the power of addressing him, she felt all over courage if the opportunity +occurred. Elizabeth had turned from him, Lady Russell overlooked him; her +nerves were strengthened by these circumstances; she felt that she owed him +attention. +</p> + +<p> +She had once partly promised Mrs Smith to spend the evening with her; but in a +short hurried call she excused herself and put it off, with the more decided +promise of a longer visit on the morrow. Mrs Smith gave a most good-humoured +acquiescence. +</p> + +<p> +“By all means,” said she; “only tell me all about it, when +you do come. Who is your party?” +</p> + +<p> +Anne named them all. Mrs Smith made no reply; but when she was leaving her +said, and with an expression half serious, half arch, “Well, I heartily +wish your concert may answer; and do not fail me to-morrow if you can come; for +I begin to have a foreboding that I may not have many more visits from +you.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne was startled and confused; but after standing in a moment’s +suspense, was obliged, and not sorry to be obliged, to hurry away. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap20"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<p> +Sir Walter, his two daughters, and Mrs Clay, were the earliest of all their +party at the rooms in the evening; and as Lady Dalrymple must be waited for, +they took their station by one of the fires in the Octagon Room. But hardly +were they so settled, when the door opened again, and Captain Wentworth walked +in alone. Anne was the nearest to him, and making yet a little advance, she +instantly spoke. He was preparing only to bow and pass on, but her gentle +“How do you do?” brought him out of the straight line to stand near +her, and make enquiries in return, in spite of the formidable father and sister +in the back ground. Their being in the back ground was a support to Anne; she +knew nothing of their looks, and felt equal to everything which she believed +right to be done. +</p> + +<p> +While they were speaking, a whispering between her father and Elizabeth caught +her ear. She could not distinguish, but she must guess the subject; and on +Captain Wentworth’s making a distant bow, she comprehended that her +father had judged so well as to give him that simple acknowledgement of +acquaintance, and she was just in time by a side glance to see a slight curtsey +from Elizabeth herself. This, though late, and reluctant, and ungracious, was +yet better than nothing, and her spirits improved. +</p> + +<p> +After talking, however, of the weather, and Bath, and the concert, their +conversation began to flag, and so little was said at last, that she was +expecting him to go every moment, but he did not; he seemed in no hurry to +leave her; and presently with renewed spirit, with a little smile, a little +glow, he said— +</p> + +<p> +“I have hardly seen you since our day at Lyme. I am afraid you must have +suffered from the shock, and the more from its not overpowering you at the +time.” +</p> + +<p> +She assured him that she had not. +</p> + +<p> +“It was a frightful hour,” said he, “a frightful day!” +and he passed his hand across his eyes, as if the remembrance were still too +painful, but in a moment, half smiling again, added, “The day has +produced some effects however; has had some consequences which must be +considered as the very reverse of frightful. When you had the presence of mind +to suggest that Benwick would be the properest person to fetch a surgeon, you +could have little idea of his being eventually one of those most concerned in +her recovery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly I could have none. But it appears—I should hope it would +be a very happy match. There are on both sides good principles and good +temper.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said he, looking not exactly forward; “but there, I +think, ends the resemblance. With all my soul I wish them happy, and rejoice +over every circumstance in favour of it. They have no difficulties to contend +with at home, no opposition, no caprice, no delays. The Musgroves are behaving +like themselves, most honourably and kindly, only anxious with true parental +hearts to promote their daughter’s comfort. All this is much, very much +in favour of their happiness; more than perhaps—” +</p> + +<p> +He stopped. A sudden recollection seemed to occur, and to give him some taste +of that emotion which was reddening Anne’s cheeks and fixing her eyes on +the ground. After clearing his throat, however, he proceeded thus— +</p> + +<p> +“I confess that I do think there is a disparity, too great a disparity, +and in a point no less essential than mind. I regard Louisa Musgrove as a very +amiable, sweet-tempered girl, and not deficient in understanding, but Benwick +is something more. He is a clever man, a reading man; and I confess, that I do +consider his attaching himself to her with some surprise. Had it been the +effect of gratitude, had he learnt to love her, because he believed her to be +preferring him, it would have been another thing. But I have no reason to +suppose it so. It seems, on the contrary, to have been a perfectly spontaneous, +untaught feeling on his side, and this surprises me. A man like him, in his +situation! with a heart pierced, wounded, almost broken! Fanny Harville was a +very superior creature, and his attachment to her was indeed attachment. A man +does not recover from such a devotion of the heart to such a woman. He ought +not; he does not.” +</p> + +<p> +Either from the consciousness, however, that his friend had recovered, or from +other consciousness, he went no farther; and Anne who, in spite of the agitated +voice in which the latter part had been uttered, and in spite of all the +various noises of the room, the almost ceaseless slam of the door, and +ceaseless buzz of persons walking through, had distinguished every word, was +struck, gratified, confused, and beginning to breathe very quick, and feel an +hundred things in a moment. It was impossible for her to enter on such a +subject; and yet, after a pause, feeling the necessity of speaking, and having +not the smallest wish for a total change, she only deviated so far as to +say— +</p> + +<p> +“You were a good while at Lyme, I think?” +</p> + +<p> +“About a fortnight. I could not leave it till Louisa’s doing well +was quite ascertained. I had been too deeply concerned in the mischief to be +soon at peace. It had been my doing, solely mine. She would not have been +obstinate if I had not been weak. The country round Lyme is very fine. I walked +and rode a great deal; and the more I saw, the more I found to admire.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should very much like to see Lyme again,” said Anne. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! I should not have supposed that you could have found anything in +Lyme to inspire such a feeling. The horror and distress you were involved in, +the stretch of mind, the wear of spirits! I should have thought your last +impressions of Lyme must have been strong disgust.” +</p> + +<p> +“The last hours were certainly very painful,” replied Anne; +“but when pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure. +One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has +been all suffering, nothing but suffering, which was by no means the case at +Lyme. We were only in anxiety and distress during the last two hours, and +previously there had been a great deal of enjoyment. So much novelty and +beauty! I have travelled so little, that every fresh place would be interesting +to me; but there is real beauty at Lyme; and in short” (with a faint +blush at some recollections), “altogether my impressions of the place are +very agreeable.” +</p> + +<p> +As she ceased, the entrance door opened again, and the very party appeared for +whom they were waiting. “Lady Dalrymple, Lady Dalrymple,” was the +rejoicing sound; and with all the eagerness compatible with anxious elegance, +Sir Walter and his two ladies stepped forward to meet her. Lady Dalrymple and +Miss Carteret, escorted by Mr Elliot and Colonel Wallis, who had happened to +arrive nearly at the same instant, advanced into the room. The others joined +them, and it was a group in which Anne found herself also necessarily included. +She was divided from Captain Wentworth. Their interesting, almost too +interesting conversation must be broken up for a time, but slight was the +penance compared with the happiness which brought it on! She had learnt, in the +last ten minutes, more of his feelings towards Louisa, more of all his feelings +than she dared to think of; and she gave herself up to the demands of the +party, to the needful civilities of the moment, with exquisite, though agitated +sensations. She was in good humour with all. She had received ideas which +disposed her to be courteous and kind to all, and to pity every one, as being +less happy than herself. +</p> + +<p> +The delightful emotions were a little subdued, when on stepping back from the +group, to be joined again by Captain Wentworth, she saw that he was gone. She +was just in time to see him turn into the Concert Room. He was gone; he had +disappeared, she felt a moment’s regret. But “they should meet +again. He would look for her, he would find her out before the evening were +over, and at present, perhaps, it was as well to be asunder. She was in need of +a little interval for recollection.” +</p> + +<p> +Upon Lady Russell’s appearance soon afterwards, the whole party was +collected, and all that remained was to marshal themselves, and proceed into +the Concert Room; and be of all the consequence in their power, draw as many +eyes, excite as many whispers, and disturb as many people as they could. +</p> + +<p> +Very, very happy were both Elizabeth and Anne Elliot as they walked in. +Elizabeth arm in arm with Miss Carteret, and looking on the broad back of the +dowager Viscountess Dalrymple before her, had nothing to wish for which did not +seem within her reach; and Anne—but it would be an insult to the nature +of Anne’s felicity, to draw any comparison between it and her +sister’s; the origin of one all selfish vanity, of the other all generous +attachment. +</p> + +<p> +Anne saw nothing, thought nothing of the brilliancy of the room. Her happiness +was from within. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks glowed; but she knew +nothing about it. She was thinking only of the last half hour, and as they +passed to their seats, her mind took a hasty range over it. His choice of +subjects, his expressions, and still more his manner and look, had been such as +she could see in only one light. His opinion of Louisa Musgrove’s +inferiority, an opinion which he had seemed solicitous to give, his wonder at +Captain Benwick, his feelings as to a first, strong attachment; sentences begun +which he could not finish, his half averted eyes and more than half expressive +glance, all, all declared that he had a heart returning to her at least; that +anger, resentment, avoidance, were no more; and that they were succeeded, not +merely by friendship and regard, but by the tenderness of the past. Yes, some +share of the tenderness of the past. She could not contemplate the change as +implying less. He must love her. +</p> + +<p> +These were thoughts, with their attendant visions, which occupied and flurried +her too much to leave her any power of observation; and she passed along the +room without having a glimpse of him, without even trying to discern him. When +their places were determined on, and they were all properly arranged, she +looked round to see if he should happen to be in the same part of the room, but +he was not; her eye could not reach him; and the concert being just opening, +she must consent for a time to be happy in a humbler way. +</p> + +<p> +The party was divided and disposed of on two contiguous benches: Anne was among +those on the foremost, and Mr Elliot had manœuvred so well, with the assistance +of his friend Colonel Wallis, as to have a seat by her. Miss Elliot, surrounded +by her cousins, and the principal object of Colonel Wallis’s gallantry, +was quite contented. +</p> + +<p> +Anne’s mind was in a most favourable state for the entertainment of the +evening; it was just occupation enough: she had feelings for the tender, +spirits for the gay, attention for the scientific, and patience for the +wearisome; and had never liked a concert better, at least during the first act. +Towards the close of it, in the interval succeeding an Italian song, she +explained the words of the song to Mr Elliot. They had a concert bill between +them. +</p> + +<p> +“This,” said she, “is nearly the sense, or rather the meaning +of the words, for certainly the sense of an Italian love-song must not be +talked of, but it is as nearly the meaning as I can give; for I do not pretend +to understand the language. I am a very poor Italian scholar.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, I see you are. I see you know nothing of the matter. You have +only knowledge enough of the language to translate at sight these inverted, +transposed, curtailed Italian lines, into clear, comprehensible, elegant +English. You need not say anything more of your ignorance. Here is complete +proof.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will not oppose such kind politeness; but I should be sorry to be +examined by a real proficient.” +</p> + +<p> +“I have not had the pleasure of visiting in Camden Place so long,” +replied he, “without knowing something of Miss Anne Elliot; and I do +regard her as one who is too modest for the world in general to be aware of +half her accomplishments, and too highly accomplished for modesty to be natural +in any other woman.” +</p> + +<p> +“For shame! for shame! this is too much flattery. I forget what we are to +have next,” turning to the bill. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” said Mr Elliot, speaking low, “I have had a longer +acquaintance with your character than you are aware of.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! How so? You can have been acquainted with it only since I came +to Bath, excepting as you might hear me previously spoken of in my own +family.” +</p> + +<p> +“I knew you by report long before you came to Bath. I had heard you +described by those who knew you intimately. I have been acquainted with you by +character many years. Your person, your disposition, accomplishments, manner; +they were all present to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Mr Elliot was not disappointed in the interest he hoped to raise. No one can +withstand the charm of such a mystery. To have been described long ago to a +recent acquaintance, by nameless people, is irresistible; and Anne was all +curiosity. She wondered, and questioned him eagerly; but in vain. He delighted +in being asked, but he would not tell. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, some time or other, perhaps, but not now. He would mention no +names now; but such, he could assure her, had been the fact. He had many years +ago received such a description of Miss Anne Elliot as had inspired him with +the highest idea of her merit, and excited the warmest curiosity to know +her.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne could think of no one so likely to have spoken with partiality of her many +years ago as the Mr Wentworth of Monkford, Captain Wentworth’s brother. +He might have been in Mr Elliot’s company, but she had not courage to ask +the question. +</p> + +<p> +“The name of Anne Elliot,” said he, “has long had an +interesting sound to me. Very long has it possessed a charm over my fancy; and, +if I dared, I would breathe my wishes that the name might never change.” +</p> + +<p> +Such, she believed, were his words; but scarcely had she received their sound, +than her attention was caught by other sounds immediately behind her, which +rendered every thing else trivial. Her father and Lady Dalrymple were speaking. +</p> + +<p> +“A well-looking man,” said Sir Walter, “a very well-looking +man.” +</p> + +<p> +“A very fine young man indeed!” said Lady Dalrymple. “More +air than one often sees in Bath. Irish, I dare say.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I just know his name. A bowing acquaintance. Wentworth; Captain +Wentworth of the navy. His sister married my tenant in Somersetshire, the +Croft, who rents Kellynch.” +</p> + +<p> +Before Sir Walter had reached this point, Anne’s eyes had caught the +right direction, and distinguished Captain Wentworth standing among a cluster +of men at a little distance. As her eyes fell on him, his seemed to be +withdrawn from her. It had that appearance. It seemed as if she had been one +moment too late; and as long as she dared observe, he did not look again: but +the performance was recommencing, and she was forced to seem to restore her +attention to the orchestra and look straight forward. +</p> + +<p> +When she could give another glance, he had moved away. He could not have come +nearer to her if he would; she was so surrounded and shut in: but she would +rather have caught his eye. +</p> + +<p> +Mr Elliot’s speech, too, distressed her. She had no longer any +inclination to talk to him. She wished him not so near her. +</p> + +<p> +The first act was over. Now she hoped for some beneficial change; and, after a +period of nothing-saying amongst the party, some of them did decide on going in +quest of tea. Anne was one of the few who did not choose to move. She remained +in her seat, and so did Lady Russell; but she had the pleasure of getting rid +of Mr Elliot; and she did not mean, whatever she might feel on Lady +Russell’s account, to shrink from conversation with Captain Wentworth, if +he gave her the opportunity. She was persuaded by Lady Russell’s +countenance that she had seen him. +</p> + +<p> +He did not come however. Anne sometimes fancied she discerned him at a +distance, but he never came. The anxious interval wore away unproductively. The +others returned, the room filled again, benches were reclaimed and repossessed, +and another hour of pleasure or of penance was to be sat out, another hour of +music was to give delight or the gapes, as real or affected taste for it +prevailed. To Anne, it chiefly wore the prospect of an hour of agitation. She +could not quit that room in peace without seeing Captain Wentworth once more, +without the interchange of one friendly look. +</p> + +<p> +In re-settling themselves there were now many changes, the result of which was +favourable for her. Colonel Wallis declined sitting down again, and Mr Elliot +was invited by Elizabeth and Miss Carteret, in a manner not to be refused, to +sit between them; and by some other removals, and a little scheming of her own, +Anne was enabled to place herself much nearer the end of the bench than she had +been before, much more within reach of a passer-by. She could not do so, +without comparing herself with Miss Larolles, the inimitable Miss Larolles; but +still she did it, and not with much happier effect; though by what seemed +prosperity in the shape of an early abdication in her next neighbours, she +found herself at the very end of the bench before the concert closed. +</p> + +<p> +Such was her situation, with a vacant space at hand, when Captain Wentworth was +again in sight. She saw him not far off. He saw her too; yet he looked grave, +and seemed irresolute, and only by very slow degrees came at last near enough +to speak to her. She felt that something must be the matter. The change was +indubitable. The difference between his present air and what it had been in the +Octagon Room was strikingly great. Why was it? She thought of her father, of +Lady Russell. Could there have been any unpleasant glances? He began by +speaking of the concert gravely, more like the Captain Wentworth of Uppercross; +owned himself disappointed, had expected singing; and in short, must confess +that he should not be sorry when it was over. Anne replied, and spoke in +defence of the performance so well, and yet in allowance for his feelings so +pleasantly, that his countenance improved, and he replied again with almost a +smile. They talked for a few minutes more; the improvement held; he even looked +down towards the bench, as if he saw a place on it well worth occupying; when +at that moment a touch on her shoulder obliged Anne to turn round. It came from +Mr Elliot. He begged her pardon, but she must be applied to, to explain Italian +again. Miss Carteret was very anxious to have a general idea of what was next +to be sung. Anne could not refuse; but never had she sacrificed to politeness +with a more suffering spirit. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes, though as few as possible, were inevitably consumed; and when +her own mistress again, when able to turn and look as she had done before, she +found herself accosted by Captain Wentworth, in a reserved yet hurried sort of +farewell. “He must wish her good night; he was going; he should get home +as fast as he could.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is not this song worth staying for?” said Anne, suddenly struck by +an idea which made her yet more anxious to be encouraging. +</p> + +<p> +“No!” he replied impressively, “there is nothing worth my +staying for;” and he was gone directly. +</p> + +<p> +Jealousy of Mr Elliot! It was the only intelligible motive. Captain Wentworth +jealous of her affection! Could she have believed it a week ago; three hours +ago! For a moment the gratification was exquisite. But, alas! there were very +different thoughts to succeed. How was such jealousy to be quieted? How was the +truth to reach him? How, in all the peculiar disadvantages of their respective +situations, would he ever learn of her real sentiments? It was misery to think +of Mr Elliot’s attentions. Their evil was incalculable. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap21"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<p> +Anne recollected with pleasure the next morning her promise of going to Mrs +Smith, meaning that it should engage her from home at the time when Mr Elliot +would be most likely to call; for to avoid Mr Elliot was almost a first object. +</p> + +<p> +She felt a great deal of good-will towards him. In spite of the mischief of his +attentions, she owed him gratitude and regard, perhaps compassion. She could +not help thinking much of the extraordinary circumstances attending their +acquaintance, of the right which he seemed to have to interest her, by +everything in situation, by his own sentiments, by his early prepossession. It +was altogether very extraordinary; flattering, but painful. There was much to +regret. How she might have felt had there been no Captain Wentworth in the +case, was not worth enquiry; for there was a Captain Wentworth; and be the +conclusion of the present suspense good or bad, her affection would be his for +ever. Their union, she believed, could not divide her more from other men, than +their final separation. +</p> + +<p> +Prettier musings of high-wrought love and eternal constancy, could never have +passed along the streets of Bath, than Anne was sporting with from Camden Place +to Westgate Buildings. It was almost enough to spread purification and perfume +all the way. +</p> + +<p> +She was sure of a pleasant reception; and her friend seemed this morning +particularly obliged to her for coming, seemed hardly to have expected her, +though it had been an appointment. +</p> + +<p> +An account of the concert was immediately claimed; and Anne’s +recollections of the concert were quite happy enough to animate her features +and make her rejoice to talk of it. All that she could tell she told most +gladly, but the all was little for one who had been there, and unsatisfactory +for such an enquirer as Mrs Smith, who had already heard, through the short cut +of a laundress and a waiter, rather more of the general success and produce of +the evening than Anne could relate, and who now asked in vain for several +particulars of the company. Everybody of any consequence or notoriety in Bath +was well know by name to Mrs Smith. +</p> + +<p> +“The little Durands were there, I conclude,” said she, “with +their mouths open to catch the music, like unfledged sparrows ready to be fed. +They never miss a concert.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I did not see them myself, but I heard Mr Elliot say they were in +the room.” +</p> + +<p> +“The Ibbotsons, were they there? and the two new beauties, with the tall +Irish officer, who is talked of for one of them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I do not know. I do not think they were.” +</p> + +<p> +“Old Lady Mary Maclean? I need not ask after her. She never misses, I +know; and you must have seen her. She must have been in your own circle; for as +you went with Lady Dalrymple, you were in the seats of grandeur, round the +orchestra, of course.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, that was what I dreaded. It would have been very unpleasant to me in +every respect. But happily Lady Dalrymple always chooses to be farther off; and +we were exceedingly well placed, that is, for hearing; I must not say for +seeing, because I appear to have seen very little.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! you saw enough for your own amusement. I can understand. There is a +sort of domestic enjoyment to be known even in a crowd, and this you had. You +were a large party in yourselves, and you wanted nothing beyond.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I ought to have looked about me more,” said Anne, conscious +while she spoke that there had in fact been no want of looking about, that the +object only had been deficient. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no; you were better employed. You need not tell me that you had a +pleasant evening. I see it in your eye. I perfectly see how the hours passed: +that you had always something agreeable to listen to. In the intervals of the +concert it was conversation.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne half smiled and said, “Do you see that in my eye?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I do. Your countenance perfectly informs me that you were in +company last night with the person whom you think the most agreeable in the +world, the person who interests you at this present time more than all the rest +of the world put together.” +</p> + +<p> +A blush overspread Anne’s cheeks. She could say nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“And such being the case,” continued Mrs Smith, after a short +pause, “I hope you believe that I do know how to value your kindness in +coming to me this morning. It is really very good of you to come and sit with +me, when you must have so many pleasanter demands upon your time.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne heard nothing of this. She was still in the astonishment and confusion +excited by her friend’s penetration, unable to imagine how any report of +Captain Wentworth could have reached her. After another short silence— +</p> + +<p> +“Pray,” said Mrs Smith, “is Mr Elliot aware of your +acquaintance with me? Does he know that I am in Bath?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr Elliot!” repeated Anne, looking up surprised. A moment’s +reflection shewed her the mistake she had been under. She caught it +instantaneously; and recovering her courage with the feeling of safety, soon +added, more composedly, “Are you acquainted with Mr Elliot?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have been a good deal acquainted with him,” replied Mrs Smith, +gravely, “but it seems worn out now. It is a great while since we +met.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was not at all aware of this. You never mentioned it before. Had I +known it, I would have had the pleasure of talking to him about you.” +</p> + +<p> +“To confess the truth,” said Mrs Smith, assuming her usual air of +cheerfulness, “that is exactly the pleasure I want you to have. I want +you to talk about me to Mr Elliot. I want your interest with him. He can be of +essential service to me; and if you would have the goodness, my dear Miss +Elliot, to make it an object to yourself, of course it is done.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should be extremely happy; I hope you cannot doubt my willingness to +be of even the slightest use to you,” replied Anne; “but I suspect +that you are considering me as having a higher claim on Mr Elliot, a greater +right to influence him, than is really the case. I am sure you have, somehow or +other, imbibed such a notion. You must consider me only as Mr Elliot’s +relation. If in that light there is anything which you suppose his cousin might +fairly ask of him, I beg you would not hesitate to employ me.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Smith gave her a penetrating glance, and then, smiling, said— +</p> + +<p> +“I have been a little premature, I perceive; I beg your pardon. I ought +to have waited for official information. But now, my dear Miss Elliot, as an +old friend, do give me a hint as to when I may speak. Next week? To be sure by +next week I may be allowed to think it all settled, and build my own selfish +schemes on Mr Elliot’s good fortune.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Anne, “nor next week, nor next, nor next. I +assure you that nothing of the sort you are thinking of will be settled any +week. I am not going to marry Mr Elliot. I should like to know why you imagine +I am?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Smith looked at her again, looked earnestly, smiled, shook her head, and +exclaimed— +</p> + +<p> +“Now, how I do wish I understood you! How I do wish I knew what you were +at! I have a great idea that you do not design to be cruel, when the right +moment occurs. Till it does come, you know, we women never mean to have +anybody. It is a thing of course among us, that every man is refused, till he +offers. But why should you be cruel? Let me plead for my—present friend I +cannot call him, but for my former friend. Where can you look for a more +suitable match? Where could you expect a more gentlemanlike, agreeable man? Let +me recommend Mr Elliot. I am sure you hear nothing but good of him from Colonel +Wallis; and who can know him better than Colonel Wallis?” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Mrs Smith, Mr Elliot’s wife has not been dead much above +half a year. He ought not to be supposed to be paying his addresses to any +one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! if these are your only objections,” cried Mrs Smith, archly, +“Mr Elliot is safe, and I shall give myself no more trouble about him. Do +not forget me when you are married, that’s all. Let him know me to be a +friend of yours, and then he will think little of the trouble required, which +it is very natural for him now, with so many affairs and engagements of his +own, to avoid and get rid of as he can; very natural, perhaps. Ninety-nine out +of a hundred would do the same. Of course, he cannot be aware of the importance +to me. Well, my dear Miss Elliot, I hope and trust you will be very happy. Mr +Elliot has sense to understand the value of such a woman. Your peace will not +be shipwrecked as mine has been. You are safe in all worldly matters, and safe +in his character. He will not be led astray; he will not be misled by others to +his ruin.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Anne, “I can readily believe all that of my +cousin. He seems to have a calm decided temper, not at all open to dangerous +impressions. I consider him with great respect. I have no reason, from any +thing that has fallen within my observation, to do otherwise. But I have not +known him long; and he is not a man, I think, to be known intimately soon. Will +not this manner of speaking of him, Mrs Smith, convince you that he is nothing +to me? Surely this must be calm enough. And, upon my word, he is nothing to me. +Should he ever propose to me (which I have very little reason to imagine he has +any thought of doing), I shall not accept him. I assure you I shall not. I +assure you, Mr Elliot had not the share which you have been supposing, in +whatever pleasure the concert of last night might afford: not Mr Elliot; it is +not Mr Elliot that—” +</p> + +<p> +She stopped, regretting with a deep blush that she had implied so much; but +less would hardly have been sufficient. Mrs Smith would hardly have believed so +soon in Mr Elliot’s failure, but from the perception of there being a +somebody else. As it was, she instantly submitted, and with all the semblance +of seeing nothing beyond; and Anne, eager to escape farther notice, was +impatient to know why Mrs Smith should have fancied she was to marry Mr Elliot; +where she could have received the idea, or from whom she could have heard it. +</p> + +<p> +“Do tell me how it first came into your head.” +</p> + +<p> +“It first came into my head,” replied Mrs Smith, “upon +finding how much you were together, and feeling it to be the most probable +thing in the world to be wished for by everybody belonging to either of you; +and you may depend upon it that all your acquaintance have disposed of you in +the same way. But I never heard it spoken of till two days ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“And has it indeed been spoken of?” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you observe the woman who opened the door to you when you called +yesterday?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. Was not it Mrs Speed, as usual, or the maid? I observed no one in +particular.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was my friend Mrs Rooke; Nurse Rooke; who, by-the-bye, had a great +curiosity to see you, and was delighted to be in the way to let you in. She +came away from Marlborough Buildings only on Sunday; and she it was who told me +you were to marry Mr Elliot. She had had it from Mrs Wallis herself, which did +not seem bad authority. She sat an hour with me on Monday evening, and gave me +the whole history.” +</p> + +<p> +“The whole history,” repeated Anne, +laughing. “She could not make a very long history, I think, of one such +little article of unfounded news.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Smith said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +“But,” continued Anne, presently, “though there is no truth +in my having this claim on Mr Elliot, I should be extremely happy to be of use +to you in any way that I could. Shall I mention to him your being in Bath? +Shall I take any message?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I thank you: no, certainly not. In the warmth of the moment, and +under a mistaken impression, I might, perhaps, have endeavoured to interest you +in some circumstances; but not now. No, I thank you, I have nothing to trouble +you with.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think you spoke of having known Mr Elliot many years?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not before he was married, I suppose?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; he was not married when I knew him first.” +</p> + +<p> +“And—were you much acquainted?” +</p> + +<p> +“Intimately.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! Then do tell me what he was at that time of life. I have a great +curiosity to know what Mr Elliot was as a very young man. Was he at all such as +he appears now?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have not seen Mr Elliot these three years,” was Mrs +Smith’s answer, given so gravely that it was impossible to pursue the +subject farther; and Anne felt that she had gained nothing but an increase of +curiosity. They were both silent: Mrs Smith very thoughtful. At last— +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, my dear Miss Elliot,” she cried, in her natural +tone of cordiality, “I beg your pardon for the short answers I have been +giving you, but I have been uncertain what I ought to do. I have been doubting +and considering as to what I ought to tell you. There were many things to be +taken into the account. One hates to be officious, to be giving bad +impressions, making mischief. Even the smooth surface of family-union seems +worth preserving, though there may be nothing durable beneath. However, I have +determined; I think I am right; I think you ought to be made acquainted with Mr +Elliot’s real character. Though I fully believe that, at present, you +have not the smallest intention of accepting him, there is no saying what may +happen. You might, some time or other, be differently affected towards him. +Hear the truth, therefore, now, while you are unprejudiced. Mr Elliot is a man +without heart or conscience; a designing, wary, cold-blooded being, who thinks +only of himself; whom for his own interest or ease, would be guilty of any +cruelty, or any treachery, that could be perpetrated without risk of his +general character. He has no feeling for others. Those whom he has been the +chief cause of leading into ruin, he can neglect and desert without the +smallest compunction. He is totally beyond the reach of any sentiment of +justice or compassion. Oh! he is black at heart, hollow and black!” +</p> + +<p> +Anne’s astonished air, and exclamation of wonder, made her pause, and in +a calmer manner, she added, +</p> + +<p> +“My expressions startle you. You must allow for an injured, angry woman. +But I will try to command myself. I will not abuse him. I will only tell you +what I have found him. Facts shall speak. He was the intimate friend of my dear +husband, who trusted and loved him, and thought him as good as himself. The +intimacy had been formed before our marriage. I found them most intimate +friends; and I, too, became excessively pleased with Mr Elliot, and entertained +the highest opinion of him. At nineteen, you know, one does not think very +seriously; but Mr Elliot appeared to me quite as good as others, and much more +agreeable than most others, and we were almost always together. We were +principally in town, living in very good style. He was then the inferior in +circumstances; he was then the poor one; he had chambers in the Temple, and it +was as much as he could do to support the appearance of a gentleman. He had +always a home with us whenever he chose it; he was always welcome; he was like +a brother. My poor Charles, who had the finest, most generous spirit in the +world, would have divided his last farthing with him; and I know that his purse +was open to him; I know that he often assisted him.” +</p> + +<p> +“This must have been about that very period of Mr Elliot’s +life,” said Anne, “which has always excited my particular +curiosity. It must have been about the same time that he became known to my +father and sister. I never knew him myself; I only heard of him; but there was +a something in his conduct then, with regard to my father and sister, and +afterwards in the circumstances of his marriage, which I never could quite +reconcile with present times. It seemed to announce a different sort of +man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know it all, I know it all,” cried Mrs Smith. “He had been +introduced to Sir Walter and your sister before I was acquainted with him, but +I heard him speak of them for ever. I know he was invited and encouraged, and I +know he did not choose to go. I can satisfy you, perhaps, on points which you +would little expect; and as to his marriage, I knew all about it at the time. I +was privy to all the fors and againsts; I was the friend to whom he confided +his hopes and plans; and though I did not know his wife previously, her +inferior situation in society, indeed, rendered that impossible, yet I knew her +all her life afterwards, or at least till within the last two years of her +life, and can answer any question you may wish to put.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nay,” said Anne, “I have no particular enquiry to make about +her. I have always understood they were not a happy couple. But I should like +to know why, at that time of his life, he should slight my father’s +acquaintance as he did. My father was certainly disposed to take very kind and +proper notice of him. Why did Mr Elliot draw back?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr Elliot,” replied Mrs Smith, “at that period of his life, +had one object in view: to make his fortune, and by a rather quicker process +than the law. He was determined to make it by marriage. He was determined, at +least, not to mar it by an imprudent marriage; and I know it was his belief +(whether justly or not, of course I cannot decide), that your father and +sister, in their civilities and invitations, were designing a match between the +heir and the young lady, and it was impossible that such a match should have +answered his ideas of wealth and independence. That was his motive for drawing +back, I can assure you. He told me the whole story. He had no concealments with +me. It was curious, that having just left you behind me in Bath, my first and +principal acquaintance on marrying should be your cousin; and that, through +him, I should be continually hearing of your father and sister. He described +one Miss Elliot, and I thought very affectionately of the other.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” cried Anne, struck by a sudden idea, “you +sometimes spoke of me to Mr Elliot?” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure I did; very often. I used to boast of my own Anne Elliot, and +vouch for your being a very different creature from—” +</p> + +<p> +She checked herself just in time. +</p> + +<p> +“This accounts for something which Mr Elliot said last night,” +cried Anne. “This explains it. I found he had been used to hear of me. I +could not comprehend how. What wild imaginations one forms where dear self is +concerned! How sure to be mistaken! But I beg your pardon; I have interrupted +you. Mr Elliot married then completely for money? The circumstances, probably, +which first opened your eyes to his character.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Smith hesitated a little here. “Oh! those things are too common. When +one lives in the world, a man or woman’s marrying for money is too common +to strike one as it ought. I was very young, and associated only with the +young, and we were a thoughtless, gay set, without any strict rules of conduct. +We lived for enjoyment. I think differently now; time and sickness and sorrow +have given me other notions; but at that period I must own I saw nothing +reprehensible in what Mr Elliot was doing. ‘To do the best for +himself,’ passed as a duty.” +</p> + +<p> +“But was not she a very low woman?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; which I objected to, but he would not regard. Money, money, was all +that he wanted. Her father was a grazier, her grandfather had been a butcher, +but that was all nothing. She was a fine woman, had had a decent education, was +brought forward by some cousins, thrown by chance into Mr Elliot’s +company, and fell in love with him; and not a difficulty or a scruple was there +on his side, with respect to her birth. All his caution was spent in being +secured of the real amount of her fortune, before he committed himself. Depend +upon it, whatever esteem Mr Elliot may have for his own situation in life now, +as a young man he had not the smallest value for it. His chance for the +Kellynch estate was something, but all the honour of the family he held as +cheap as dirt. I have often heard him declare, that if baronetcies were +saleable, anybody should have his for fifty pounds, arms and motto, name and +livery included; but I will not pretend to repeat half that I used to hear him +say on that subject. It would not be fair; and yet you ought to have proof, for +what is all this but assertion, and you shall have proof.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, my dear Mrs Smith, I want none,” cried Anne. “You +have asserted nothing contradictory to what Mr Elliot appeared to be some years +ago. This is all in confirmation, rather, of what we used to hear and believe. +I am more curious to know why he should be so different now.” +</p> + +<p> +“But for my satisfaction, if you will have the goodness to ring for Mary; +stay: I am sure you will have the still greater goodness of going yourself into +my bedroom, and bringing me the small inlaid box which you will find on the +upper shelf of the closet.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne, seeing her friend to be earnestly bent on it, did as she was desired. The +box was brought and placed before her, and Mrs Smith, sighing over it as she +unlocked it, said— +</p> + +<p> +“This is full of papers belonging to him, to my husband; a small portion +only of what I had to look over when I lost him. The letter I am looking for +was one written by Mr Elliot to him before our marriage, and happened to be +saved; why, one can hardly imagine. But he was careless and immethodical, like +other men, about those things; and when I came to examine his papers, I found +it with others still more trivial, from different people scattered here and +there, while many letters and memorandums of real importance had been +destroyed. Here it is; I would not burn it, because being even then very little +satisfied with Mr Elliot, I was determined to preserve every document of former +intimacy. I have now another motive for being glad that I can produce +it.” +</p> + +<p> +This was the letter, directed to “Charles Smith, Esq. Tunbridge +Wells,” and dated from London, as far back as July, 1803:— +</p> + +<div class="letter"> + +<p> +“Dear Smith, +</p> + +<p> +“I have received yours. Your kindness almost overpowers me. I wish nature +had made such hearts as yours more common, but I have lived three-and-twenty +years in the world, and have seen none like it. At present, believe me, I have +no need of your services, being in cash again. Give me joy: I have got rid of +Sir Walter and Miss. They are gone back to Kellynch, and almost made me swear +to visit them this summer; but my first visit to Kellynch will be with a +surveyor, to tell me how to bring it with best advantage to the hammer. The +baronet, nevertheless, is not unlikely to marry again; he is quite fool enough. +If he does, however, they will leave me in peace, which may be a decent +equivalent for the reversion. He is worse than last year. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish I had any name but Elliot. I am sick of it. The name of Walter I +can drop, thank God! and I desire you will never insult me with my second W. +again, meaning, for the rest of my life, to be only yours truly, +</p> + +</div> + +<p class="right"> +“W<small>M</small>. E<small>LLIOT</small>.” +</p> + +<p> +Such a letter could not be read without putting Anne in a glow; and Mrs Smith, +observing the high colour in her face, said— +</p> + +<p> +“The language, I know, is highly disrespectful. Though I have forgot the +exact terms, I have a perfect impression of the general meaning. But it shows +you the man. Mark his professions to my poor husband. Can any thing be +stronger?” +</p> + +<p> +Anne could not immediately get over the shock and mortification of finding such +words applied to her father. She was obliged to recollect that her seeing the +letter was a violation of the laws of honour, that no one ought to be judged or +to be known by such testimonies, that no private correspondence could bear the +eye of others, before she could recover calmness enough to return the letter +which she had been meditating over, and say— +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you. This is full proof undoubtedly; proof of every thing you were +saying. But why be acquainted with us now?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can explain this too,” cried Mrs Smith, smiling. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you really?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I have shewn you Mr Elliot as he was a dozen years ago, and I will +shew him as he is now. I cannot produce written proof again, but I can give as +authentic oral testimony as you can desire, of what he is now wanting, and what +he is now doing. He is no hypocrite now. He truly wants to marry you. His +present attentions to your family are very sincere: quite from the heart. I +will give you my authority: his friend Colonel Wallis.” +</p> + +<p> +“Colonel Wallis! you are acquainted with him?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. It does not come to me in quite so direct a line as that; it takes a +bend or two, but nothing of consequence. The stream is as good as at first; the +little rubbish it collects in the turnings is easily moved away. Mr Elliot +talks unreservedly to Colonel Wallis of his views on you, which said Colonel +Wallis, I imagine to be, in himself, a sensible, careful, discerning sort of +character; but Colonel Wallis has a very pretty silly wife, to whom he tells +things which he had better not, and he repeats it all to her. She in the +overflowing spirits of her recovery, repeats it all to her nurse; and the nurse +knowing my acquaintance with you, very naturally brings it all to me. On Monday +evening, my good friend Mrs Rooke let me thus much into the secrets of +Marlborough Buildings. When I talked of a whole history, therefore, you see I +was not romancing so much as you supposed.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Mrs Smith, your authority is deficient. This will not do. Mr +Elliot’s having any views on me will not in the least account for the +efforts he made towards a reconciliation with my father. That was all prior to +my coming to Bath. I found them on the most friendly terms when I +arrived.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know you did; I know it all perfectly, but—” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, Mrs Smith, we must not expect to get real information in such a +line. Facts or opinions which are to pass through the hands of so many, to be +misconceived by folly in one, and ignorance in another, can hardly have much +truth left.” +</p> + +<p> +“Only give me a hearing. You will soon be able to judge of the general +credit due, by listening to some particulars which you can yourself immediately +contradict or confirm. Nobody supposes that you were his first inducement. He +had seen you indeed, before he came to Bath, and admired you, but without +knowing it to be you. So says my historian, at least. Is this true? Did he see +you last summer or autumn, ‘somewhere down in the west,’ to use her +own words, without knowing it to be you?” +</p> + +<p> +“He certainly did. So far it is very true. At Lyme. I happened to be at +Lyme.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” continued Mrs Smith, triumphantly, “grant my friend +the credit due to the establishment of the first point asserted. He saw you +then at Lyme, and liked you so well as to be exceedingly pleased to meet with +you again in Camden Place, as Miss Anne Elliot, and from that moment, I have no +doubt, had a double motive in his visits there. But there was another, and an +earlier, which I will now explain. If there is anything in my story which you +know to be either false or improbable, stop me. My account states, that your +sister’s friend, the lady now staying with you, whom I have heard you +mention, came to Bath with Miss Elliot and Sir Walter as long ago as September +(in short when they first came themselves), and has been staying there ever +since; that she is a clever, insinuating, handsome woman, poor and plausible, +and altogether such in situation and manner, as to give a general idea, among +Sir Walter’s acquaintance, of her meaning to be Lady Elliot, and as +general a surprise that Miss Elliot should be apparently, blind to the +danger.” +</p> + +<p> +Here Mrs Smith paused a moment; but Anne had not a word to say, and she +continued— +</p> + +<p> +“This was the light in which it appeared to those who knew the family, +long before you returned to it; and Colonel Wallis had his eye upon your father +enough to be sensible of it, though he did not then visit in Camden Place; but +his regard for Mr Elliot gave him an interest in watching all that was going on +there, and when Mr Elliot came to Bath for a day or two, as he happened to do a +little before Christmas, Colonel Wallis made him acquainted with the appearance +of things, and the reports beginning to prevail. Now you are to understand, +that time had worked a very material change in Mr Elliot’s opinions as to +the value of a baronetcy. Upon all points of blood and connexion he is a +completely altered man. Having long had as much money as he could spend, +nothing to wish for on the side of avarice or indulgence, he has been gradually +learning to pin his happiness upon the consequence he is heir to. I thought it +coming on before our acquaintance ceased, but it is now a confirmed feeling. He +cannot bear the idea of not being Sir William. You may guess, therefore, that +the news he heard from his friend could not be very agreeable, and you may +guess what it produced; the resolution of coming back to Bath as soon as +possible, and of fixing himself here for a time, with the view of renewing his +former acquaintance, and recovering such a footing in the family as might give +him the means of ascertaining the degree of his danger, and of circumventing +the lady if he found it material. This was agreed upon between the two friends +as the only thing to be done; and Colonel Wallis was to assist in every way +that he could. He was to be introduced, and Mrs Wallis was to be introduced, +and everybody was to be introduced. Mr Elliot came back accordingly; and on +application was forgiven, as you know, and re-admitted into the family; and +there it was his constant object, and his only object (till your arrival added +another motive), to watch Sir Walter and Mrs Clay. He omitted no opportunity of +being with them, threw himself in their way, called at all hours; but I need +not be particular on this subject. You can imagine what an artful man would do; +and with this guide, perhaps, may recollect what you have seen him do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said Anne, “you tell me nothing which does not accord +with what I have known, or could imagine. There is always something offensive +in the details of cunning. The manœuvres of selfishness and duplicity must ever +be revolting, but I have heard nothing which really surprises me. I know those +who would be shocked by such a representation of Mr Elliot, who would have +difficulty in believing it; but I have never been satisfied. I have always +wanted some other motive for his conduct than appeared. I should like to know +his present opinion, as to the probability of the event he has been in dread +of; whether he considers the danger to be lessening or not.” +</p> + +<p> +“Lessening, I understand,” replied Mrs Smith. “He thinks Mrs +Clay afraid of him, aware that he sees through her, and not daring to proceed +as she might do in his absence. But since he must be absent some time or other, +I do not perceive how he can ever be secure while she holds her present +influence. Mrs Wallis has an amusing idea, as nurse tells me, that it is to be +put into the marriage articles when you and Mr Elliot marry, that your father +is not to marry Mrs Clay. A scheme, worthy of Mrs Wallis’s understanding, +by all accounts; but my sensible nurse Rooke sees the absurdity of it. +‘Why, to be sure, ma’am,’ said she, ‘it would not +prevent his marrying anybody else.’ And, indeed, to own the truth, I do +not think nurse, in her heart, is a very strenuous opposer of Sir +Walter’s making a second match. She must be allowed to be a favourer of +matrimony, you know; and (since self will intrude) who can say that she may not +have some flying visions of attending the next Lady Elliot, through Mrs +Wallis’s recommendation?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very glad to know all this,” said Anne, after a little +thoughtfulness. “It will be more painful to me in some respects to be in +company with him, but I shall know better what to do. My line of conduct will +be more direct. Mr Elliot is evidently a disingenuous, artificial, worldly man, +who has never had any better principle to guide him than selfishness.” +</p> + +<p> +But Mr Elliot was not done with. Mrs Smith had been carried away from her first +direction, and Anne had forgotten, in the interest of her own family concerns, +how much had been originally implied against him; but her attention was now +called to the explanation of those first hints, and she listened to a recital +which, if it did not perfectly justify the unqualified bitterness of Mrs Smith, +proved him to have been very unfeeling in his conduct towards her; very +deficient both in justice and compassion. +</p> + +<p> +She learned that (the intimacy between them continuing unimpaired by Mr +Elliot’s marriage) they had been as before always together, and Mr Elliot +had led his friend into expenses much beyond his fortune. Mrs Smith did not +want to take blame to herself, and was most tender of throwing any on her +husband; but Anne could collect that their income had never been equal to their +style of living, and that from the first there had been a great deal of general +and joint extravagance. From his wife’s account of him she could discern +Mr Smith to have been a man of warm feelings, easy temper, careless habits, and +not strong understanding, much more amiable than his friend, and very unlike +him, led by him, and probably despised by him. Mr Elliot, raised by his +marriage to great affluence, and disposed to every gratification of pleasure +and vanity which could be commanded without involving himself, (for with all +his self-indulgence he had become a prudent man), and beginning to be rich, +just as his friend ought to have found himself to be poor, seemed to have had +no concern at all for that friend’s probable finances, but, on the +contrary, had been prompting and encouraging expenses which could end only in +ruin; and the Smiths accordingly had been ruined. +</p> + +<p> +The husband had died just in time to be spared the full knowledge of it. They +had previously known embarrassments enough to try the friendship of their +friends, and to prove that Mr Elliot’s had better not be tried; but it +was not till his death that the wretched state of his affairs was fully known. +With a confidence in Mr Elliot’s regard, more creditable to his feelings +than his judgement, Mr Smith had appointed him the executor of his will; but Mr +Elliot would not act, and the difficulties and distress which this refusal had +heaped on her, in addition to the inevitable sufferings of her situation, had +been such as could not be related without anguish of spirit, or listened to +without corresponding indignation. +</p> + +<p> +Anne was shewn some letters of his on the occasion, answers to urgent +applications from Mrs Smith, which all breathed the same stern resolution of +not engaging in a fruitless trouble, and, under a cold civility, the same +hard-hearted indifference to any of the evils it might bring on her. It was a +dreadful picture of ingratitude and inhumanity; and Anne felt, at some moments, +that no flagrant open crime could have been worse. She had a great deal to +listen to; all the particulars of past sad scenes, all the minutiae of distress +upon distress, which in former conversations had been merely hinted at, were +dwelt on now with a natural indulgence. Anne could perfectly comprehend the +exquisite relief, and was only the more inclined to wonder at the composure of +her friend’s usual state of mind. +</p> + +<p> +There was one circumstance in the history of her grievances of particular +irritation. She had good reason to believe that some property of her husband in +the West Indies, which had been for many years under a sort of sequestration +for the payment of its own incumbrances, might be recoverable by proper +measures; and this property, though not large, would be enough to make her +comparatively rich. But there was nobody to stir in it. Mr Elliot would do +nothing, and she could do nothing herself, equally disabled from personal +exertion by her state of bodily weakness, and from employing others by her want +of money. She had no natural connexions to assist her even with their counsel, +and she could not afford to purchase the assistance of the law. This was a +cruel aggravation of actually straitened means. To feel that she ought to be in +better circumstances, that a little trouble in the right place might do it, and +to fear that delay might be even weakening her claims, was hard to bear. +</p> + +<p> +It was on this point that she had hoped to engage Anne’s good offices +with Mr Elliot. She had previously, in the anticipation of their marriage, been +very apprehensive of losing her friend by it; but on being assured that he +could have made no attempt of that nature, since he did not even know her to be +in Bath, it immediately occurred, that something might be done in her favour by +the influence of the woman he loved, and she had been hastily preparing to +interest Anne’s feelings, as far as the observances due to Mr +Elliot’s character would allow, when Anne’s refutation of the +supposed engagement changed the face of everything; and while it took from her +the new-formed hope of succeeding in the object of her first anxiety, left her +at least the comfort of telling the whole story her own way. +</p> + +<p> +After listening to this full description of Mr Elliot, Anne could not but +express some surprise at Mrs Smith’s having spoken of him so favourably +in the beginning of their conversation. “She had seemed to recommend and +praise him!” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear,” was Mrs Smith’s reply, “there was nothing +else to be done. I considered your marrying him as certain, though he might not +yet have made the offer, and I could no more speak the truth of him, than if he +had been your husband. My heart bled for you, as I talked of happiness; and yet +he is sensible, he is agreeable, and with such a woman as you, it was not +absolutely hopeless. He was very unkind to his first wife. They were wretched +together. But she was too ignorant and giddy for respect, and he had never +loved her. I was willing to hope that you must fare better.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne could just acknowledge within herself such a possibility of having been +induced to marry him, as made her shudder at the idea of the misery which must +have followed. It was just possible that she might have been persuaded by Lady +Russell! And under such a supposition, which would have been most miserable, +when time had disclosed all, too late? +</p> + +<p> +It was very desirable that Lady Russell should be no longer deceived; and one +of the concluding arrangements of this important conference, which carried them +through the greater part of the morning, was, that Anne had full liberty to +communicate to her friend everything relative to Mrs Smith, in which his +conduct was involved. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap22"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<p> +Anne went home to think over all that she had heard. In one point, her feelings +were relieved by this knowledge of Mr Elliot. There was no longer anything of +tenderness due to him. He stood as opposed to Captain Wentworth, in all his own +unwelcome obtrusiveness; and the evil of his attentions last night, the +irremediable mischief he might have done, was considered with sensations +unqualified, unperplexed. Pity for him was all over. But this was the only +point of relief. In every other respect, in looking around her, or penetrating +forward, she saw more to distrust and to apprehend. She was concerned for the +disappointment and pain Lady Russell would be feeling; for the mortifications +which must be hanging over her father and sister, and had all the distress of +foreseeing many evils, without knowing how to avert any one of them. She was +most thankful for her own knowledge of him. She had never considered herself as +entitled to reward for not slighting an old friend like Mrs Smith, but here was +a reward indeed springing from it! Mrs Smith had been able to tell her what no +one else could have done. Could the knowledge have been extended through her +family? But this was a vain idea. She must talk to Lady Russell, tell her, +consult with her, and having done her best, wait the event with as much +composure as possible; and after all, her greatest want of composure would be +in that quarter of the mind which could not be opened to Lady Russell; in that +flow of anxieties and fears which must be all to herself. +</p> + +<p> +She found, on reaching home, that she had, as she intended, escaped seeing Mr +Elliot; that he had called and paid them a long morning visit; but hardly had +she congratulated herself, and felt safe, when she heard that he was coming +again in the evening. +</p> + +<p> +“I had not the smallest intention of asking him,” said Elizabeth, +with affected carelessness, “but he gave so many hints; so Mrs Clay says, +at least.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed, I do say it. I never saw anybody in my life spell harder for an +invitation. Poor man! I was really in pain for him; for your hard-hearted +sister, Miss Anne, seems bent on cruelty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” cried Elizabeth, “I have been rather too much used to +the game to be soon overcome by a gentleman’s hints. However, when I +found how excessively he was regretting that he should miss my father this +morning, I gave way immediately, for I would never really omit an opportunity +of bringing him and Sir Walter together. They appear to so much advantage in +company with each other. Each behaving so pleasantly. Mr Elliot looking up with +so much respect.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite delightful!” cried Mrs Clay, not daring, however, to turn +her eyes towards Anne. “Exactly like father and son! Dear Miss Elliot, +may I not say father and son?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! I lay no embargo on any body’s words. If you will have such +ideas! But, upon my word, I am scarcely sensible of his attentions being beyond +those of other men.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Miss Elliot!” exclaimed Mrs Clay, lifting her hands and +eyes, and sinking all the rest of her astonishment in a convenient silence. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my dear Penelope, you need not be so alarmed about him. I did +invite him, you know. I sent him away with smiles. When I found he was really +going to his friends at Thornberry Park for the whole day to-morrow, I had +compassion on him.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne admired the good acting of the friend, in being able to shew such pleasure +as she did, in the expectation and in the actual arrival of the very person +whose presence must really be interfering with her prime object. It was +impossible but that Mrs Clay must hate the sight of Mr Elliot; and yet she +could assume a most obliging, placid look, and appear quite satisfied with the +curtailed license of devoting herself only half as much to Sir Walter as she +would have done otherwise. +</p> + +<p> +To Anne herself it was most distressing to see Mr Elliot enter the room; and +quite painful to have him approach and speak to her. She had been used before +to feel that he could not be always quite sincere, but now she saw insincerity +in everything. His attentive deference to her father, contrasted with his +former language, was odious; and when she thought of his cruel conduct towards +Mrs Smith, she could hardly bear the sight of his present smiles and mildness, +or the sound of his artificial good sentiments. +</p> + +<p> +She meant to avoid any such alteration of manners as might provoke a +remonstrance on his side. It was a great object to her to escape all enquiry or +eclat; but it was her intention to be as decidedly cool to him as might be +compatible with their relationship; and to retrace, as quietly as she could, +the few steps of unnecessary intimacy she had been gradually led along. She was +accordingly more guarded, and more cool, than she had been the night before. +</p> + +<p> +He wanted to animate her curiosity again as to how and where he could have +heard her formerly praised; wanted very much to be gratified by more +solicitation; but the charm was broken: he found that the heat and animation of +a public room was necessary to kindle his modest cousin’s vanity; he +found, at least, that it was not to be done now, by any of those attempts which +he could hazard among the too-commanding claims of the others. He little +surmised that it was a subject acting now exactly against his interest, +bringing immediately to her thoughts all those parts of his conduct which were +least excusable. +</p> + +<p> +She had some satisfaction in finding that he was really going out of Bath the +next morning, going early, and that he would be gone the greater part of two +days. He was invited again to Camden Place the very evening of his return; but +from Thursday to Saturday evening his absence was certain. It was bad enough +that a Mrs Clay should be always before her; but that a deeper hypocrite should +be added to their party, seemed the destruction of everything like peace and +comfort. It was so humiliating to reflect on the constant deception practised +on her father and Elizabeth; to consider the various sources of mortification +preparing for them! Mrs Clay’s selfishness was not so complicate nor so +revolting as his; and Anne would have compounded for the marriage at once, with +all its evils, to be clear of Mr Elliot’s subtleties in endeavouring to +prevent it. +</p> + +<p> +On Friday morning she meant to go very early to Lady Russell, and accomplish +the necessary communication; and she would have gone directly after breakfast, +but that Mrs Clay was also going out on some obliging purpose of saving her +sister trouble, which determined her to wait till she might be safe from such a +companion. She saw Mrs Clay fairly off, therefore, before she began to talk of +spending the morning in Rivers Street. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Elizabeth, “I have nothing to send but my +love. Oh! you may as well take back that tiresome book she would lend me, and +pretend I have read it through. I really cannot be plaguing myself for ever +with all the new poems and states of the nation that come out. Lady Russell +quite bores one with her new publications. You need not tell her so, but I +thought her dress hideous the other night. I used to think she had some taste +in dress, but I was ashamed of her at the concert. Something so formal and +<i>arrangé</i> in her air! and she sits so upright! My best love, of +course.” +</p> + +<p> +“And mine,” added Sir Walter. “Kindest regards. And you may +say, that I mean to call upon her soon. Make a civil message; but I shall only +leave my card. Morning visits are never fair by women at her time of life, who +make themselves up so little. If she would only wear rouge she would not be +afraid of being seen; but last time I called, I observed the blinds were let +down immediately.” +</p> + +<p> +While her father spoke, there was a knock at the door. Who could it be? Anne, +remembering the preconcerted visits, at all hours, of Mr Elliot, would have +expected him, but for his known engagement seven miles off. After the usual +period of suspense, the usual sounds of approach were heard, and “Mr and +Mrs Charles Musgrove” were ushered into the room. +</p> + +<p> +Surprise was the strongest emotion raised by their appearance; but Anne was +really glad to see them; and the others were not so sorry but that they could +put on a decent air of welcome; and as soon as it became clear that these, +their nearest relations, were not arrived with any views of accommodation in +that house, Sir Walter and Elizabeth were able to rise in cordiality, and do +the honours of it very well. They were come to Bath for a few days with Mrs +Musgrove, and were at the White Hart. So much was pretty soon understood; but +till Sir Walter and Elizabeth were walking Mary into the other drawing-room, +and regaling themselves with her admiration, Anne could not draw upon +Charles’s brain for a regular history of their coming, or an explanation +of some smiling hints of particular business, which had been ostentatiously +dropped by Mary, as well as of some apparent confusion as to whom their party +consisted of. +</p> + +<p> +She then found that it consisted of Mrs Musgrove, Henrietta, and Captain +Harville, beside their two selves. He gave her a very plain, intelligible +account of the whole; a narration in which she saw a great deal of most +characteristic proceeding. The scheme had received its first impulse by Captain +Harville’s wanting to come to Bath on business. He had begun to talk of +it a week ago; and by way of doing something, as shooting was over, Charles had +proposed coming with him, and Mrs Harville had seemed to like the idea of it +very much, as an advantage to her husband; but Mary could not bear to be left, +and had made herself so unhappy about it, that for a day or two everything +seemed to be in suspense, or at an end. But then, it had been taken up by his +father and mother. His mother had some old friends in Bath whom she wanted to +see; it was thought a good opportunity for Henrietta to come and buy +wedding-clothes for herself and her sister; and, in short, it ended in being +his mother’s party, that everything might be comfortable and easy to +Captain Harville; and he and Mary were included in it by way of general +convenience. They had arrived late the night before. Mrs Harville, her +children, and Captain Benwick, remained with Mr Musgrove and Louisa at +Uppercross. +</p> + +<p> +Anne’s only surprise was, that affairs should be in forwardness enough +for Henrietta’s wedding-clothes to be talked of. She had imagined such +difficulties of fortune to exist there as must prevent the marriage from being +near at hand; but she learned from Charles that, very recently, (since +Mary’s last letter to herself), Charles Hayter had been applied to by a +friend to hold a living for a youth who could not possibly claim it under many +years; and that on the strength of his present income, with almost a certainty +of something more permanent long before the term in question, the two families +had consented to the young people’s wishes, and that their marriage was +likely to take place in a few months, quite as soon as Louisa’s. +“And a very good living it was,” Charles added: “only +five-and-twenty miles from Uppercross, and in a very fine country: fine part of +Dorsetshire. In the centre of some of the best preserves in the kingdom, +surrounded by three great proprietors, each more careful and jealous than the +other; and to two of the three at least, Charles Hayter might get a special +recommendation. Not that he will value it as he ought,” he observed, +“Charles is too cool about sporting. That’s the worst of +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am extremely glad, indeed,” cried Anne, “particularly glad +that this should happen; and that of two sisters, who both deserve equally +well, and who have always been such good friends, the pleasant prospect of one +should not be dimming those of the other—that they should be so equal in +their prosperity and comfort. I hope your father and mother are quite happy +with regard to both.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! yes. My father would be well pleased if the gentlemen were richer, +but he has no other fault to find. Money, you know, coming down with +money—two daughters at once—it cannot be a very agreeable +operation, and it streightens him as to many things. However, I do not mean to +say they have not a right to it. It is very fit they should have +daughters’ shares; and I am sure he has always been a very kind, liberal +father to me. Mary does not above half like Henrietta’s match. She never +did, you know. But she does not do him justice, nor think enough about +Winthrop. I cannot make her attend to the value of the property. It is a very +fair match, as times go; and I have liked Charles Hayter all my life, and I +shall not leave off now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Such excellent parents as Mr and Mrs Musgrove,” exclaimed Anne, +“should be happy in their children’s marriages. They do everything +to confer happiness, I am sure. What a blessing to young people to be in such +hands! Your father and mother seem so totally free from all those ambitious +feelings which have led to so much misconduct and misery, both in young and +old. I hope you think Louisa perfectly recovered now?” +</p> + +<p> +He answered rather hesitatingly, “Yes, I believe I do; very much +recovered; but she is altered; there is no running or jumping about, no +laughing or dancing; it is quite different. If one happens only to shut the +door a little hard, she starts and wriggles like a young dab-chick in the +water; and Benwick sits at her elbow, reading verses, or whispering to her, all +day long.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne could not help laughing. “That cannot be much to your taste, I +know,” said she; “but I do believe him to be an excellent young +man.” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure he is. Nobody doubts it; and I hope you do not think I am so +illiberal as to want every man to have the same objects and pleasures as +myself. I have a great value for Benwick; and when one can but get him to talk, +he has plenty to say. His reading has done him no harm, for he has fought as +well as read. He is a brave fellow. I got more acquainted with him last Monday +than ever I did before. We had a famous set-to at rat-hunting all the morning +in my father’s great barns; and he played his part so well that I have +liked him the better ever since.” +</p> + +<p> +Here they were interrupted by the absolute necessity of Charles’s +following the others to admire mirrors and china; but Anne had heard enough to +understand the present state of Uppercross, and rejoice in its happiness; and +though she sighed as she rejoiced, her sigh had none of the ill-will of envy in +it. She would certainly have risen to their blessings if she could, but she did +not want to lessen theirs. +</p> + +<p> +The visit passed off altogether in high good humour. Mary was in excellent +spirits, enjoying the gaiety and the change, and so well satisfied with the +journey in her mother-in-law’s carriage with four horses, and with her +own complete independence of Camden Place, that she was exactly in a temper to +admire everything as she ought, and enter most readily into all the +superiorities of the house, as they were detailed to her. She had no demands on +her father or sister, and her consequence was just enough increased by their +handsome drawing-rooms. +</p> + +<p> +Elizabeth was, for a short time, suffering a good deal. She felt that Mrs +Musgrove and all her party ought to be asked to dine with them; but she could +not bear to have the difference of style, the reduction of servants, which a +dinner must betray, witnessed by those who had been always so inferior to the +Elliots of Kellynch. It was a struggle between propriety and vanity; but vanity +got the better, and then Elizabeth was happy again. These were her internal +persuasions: “Old fashioned notions; country hospitality; we do not +profess to give dinners; few people in Bath do; Lady Alicia never does; did not +even ask her own sister’s family, though they were here a month: and I +dare say it would be very inconvenient to Mrs Musgrove; put her quite out of +her way. I am sure she would rather not come; she cannot feel easy with us. I +will ask them all for an evening; that will be much better; that will be a +novelty and a treat. They have not seen two such drawing rooms before. They +will be delighted to come to-morrow evening. It shall be a regular party, +small, but most elegant.” And this satisfied Elizabeth: and when the +invitation was given to the two present, and promised for the absent, Mary was +as completely satisfied. She was particularly asked to meet Mr Elliot, and be +introduced to Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret, who were fortunately already +engaged to come; and she could not have received a more gratifying attention. +Miss Elliot was to have the honour of calling on Mrs Musgrove in the course of +the morning; and Anne walked off with Charles and Mary, to go and see her and +Henrietta directly. +</p> + +<p> +Her plan of sitting with Lady Russell must give way for the present. They all +three called in Rivers Street for a couple of minutes; but Anne convinced +herself that a day’s delay of the intended communication could be of no +consequence, and hastened forward to the White Hart, to see again the friends +and companions of the last autumn, with an eagerness of good-will which many +associations contributed to form. +</p> + +<p> +They found Mrs Musgrove and her daughter within, and by themselves, and Anne +had the kindest welcome from each. Henrietta was exactly in that state of +recently-improved views, of fresh-formed happiness, which made her full of +regard and interest for everybody she had ever liked before at all; and Mrs +Musgrove’s real affection had been won by her usefulness when they were +in distress. It was a heartiness, and a warmth, and a sincerity which Anne +delighted in the more, from the sad want of such blessings at home. She was +entreated to give them as much of her time as possible, invited for every day +and all day long, or rather claimed as part of the family; and, in return, she +naturally fell into all her wonted ways of attention and assistance, and on +Charles’s leaving them together, was listening to Mrs Musgrove’s +history of Louisa, and to Henrietta’s of herself, giving opinions on +business, and recommendations to shops; with intervals of every help which Mary +required, from altering her ribbon to settling her accounts; from finding her +keys, and assorting her trinkets, to trying to convince her that she was not +ill-used by anybody; which Mary, well amused as she generally was, in her +station at a window overlooking the entrance to the Pump Room, could not but +have her moments of imagining. +</p> + +<p> +A morning of thorough confusion was to be expected. A large party in an hotel +ensured a quick-changing, unsettled scene. One five minutes brought a note, the +next a parcel; and Anne had not been there half an hour, when their +dining-room, spacious as it was, seemed more than half filled: a party of +steady old friends were seated around Mrs Musgrove, and Charles came back with +Captains Harville and Wentworth. The appearance of the latter could not be more +than the surprise of the moment. It was impossible for her to have forgotten to +feel that this arrival of their common friends must be soon bringing them +together again. Their last meeting had been most important in opening his +feelings; she had derived from it a delightful conviction; but she feared from +his looks, that the same unfortunate persuasion, which had hastened him away +from the Concert Room, still governed. He did not seem to want to be near +enough for conversation. +</p> + +<p> +She tried to be calm, and leave things to take their course, and tried to dwell +much on this argument of rational dependence:—“Surely, if there be +constant attachment on each side, our hearts must understand each other ere +long. We are not boy and girl, to be captiously irritable, misled by every +moment’s inadvertence, and wantonly playing with our own +happiness.” And yet, a few minutes afterwards, she felt as if their being +in company with each other, under their present circumstances, could only be +exposing them to inadvertencies and misconstructions of the most mischievous +kind. +</p> + +<p> +“Anne,” cried Mary, still at her window, “there is Mrs Clay, +I am sure, standing under the colonnade, and a gentleman with her. I saw them +turn the corner from Bath Street just now. They seemed deep in talk. Who is it? +Come, and tell me. Good heavens! I recollect. It is Mr Elliot himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” cried Anne, quickly, “it cannot be Mr Elliot, I assure +you. He was to leave Bath at nine this morning, and does not come back till +to-morrow.” +</p> + +<p> +As she spoke, she felt that Captain Wentworth was looking at her, the +consciousness of which vexed and embarrassed her, and made her regret that she +had said so much, simple as it was. +</p> + +<p> +Mary, resenting that she should be supposed not to know her own cousin, began +talking very warmly about the family features, and protesting still more +positively that it was Mr Elliot, calling again upon Anne to come and look for +herself, but Anne did not mean to stir, and tried to be cool and unconcerned. +Her distress returned, however, on perceiving smiles and intelligent glances +pass between two or three of the lady visitors, as if they believed themselves +quite in the secret. It was evident that the report concerning her had spread, +and a short pause succeeded, which seemed to ensure that it would now spread +farther. +</p> + +<p> +“Do come, Anne,” cried Mary, “come and look yourself. You +will be too late if you do not make haste. They are parting; they are shaking +hands. He is turning away. Not know Mr Elliot, indeed! You seem to have forgot +all about Lyme.” +</p> + +<p> +To pacify Mary, and perhaps screen her own embarrassment, Anne did move quietly +to the window. She was just in time to ascertain that it really was Mr Elliot, +which she had never believed, before he disappeared on one side, as Mrs Clay +walked quickly off on the other; and checking the surprise which she could not +but feel at such an appearance of friendly conference between two persons of +totally opposite interest, she calmly said, “Yes, it is Mr Elliot, +certainly. He has changed his hour of going, I suppose, that is all, or I may +be mistaken, I might not attend;” and walked back to her chair, +recomposed, and with the comfortable hope of having acquitted herself well. +</p> + +<p> +The visitors took their leave; and Charles, having civilly seen them off, and +then made a face at them, and abused them for coming, began with— +</p> + +<p> +“Well, mother, I have done something for you that you will like. I have +been to the theatre, and secured a box for to-morrow night. A’n’t I +a good boy? I know you love a play; and there is room for us all. It holds +nine. I have engaged Captain Wentworth. Anne will not be sorry to join us, I am +sure. We all like a play. Have not I done well, mother?” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Musgrove was good humouredly beginning to express her perfect readiness for +the play, if Henrietta and all the others liked it, when Mary eagerly +interrupted her by exclaiming— +</p> + +<p> +“Good heavens, Charles! how can you think of such a thing? Take a box for +to-morrow night! Have you forgot that we are engaged to Camden Place to-morrow +night? and that we were most particularly asked to meet Lady Dalrymple and her +daughter, and Mr Elliot, and all the principal family connexions, on purpose to +be introduced to them? How can you be so forgetful?” +</p> + +<p> +“Phoo! phoo!” replied Charles, “what’s an evening +party? Never worth remembering. Your father might have asked us to dinner, I +think, if he had wanted to see us. You may do as you like, but I shall go to +the play.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! Charles, I declare it will be too abominable if you do, when you +promised to go.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I did not promise. I only smirked and bowed, and said the word +‘happy.’ There was no promise.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you must go, Charles. It would be unpardonable to fail. We were +asked on purpose to be introduced. There was always such a great connexion +between the Dalrymples and ourselves. Nothing ever happened on either side that +was not announced immediately. We are quite near relations, you know; and Mr +Elliot too, whom you ought so particularly to be acquainted with! Every +attention is due to Mr Elliot. Consider, my father’s heir: the future +representative of the family.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t talk to me about heirs and representatives,” cried +Charles. “I am not one of those who neglect the reigning power to bow to +the rising sun. If I would not go for the sake of your father, I should think +it scandalous to go for the sake of his heir. What is Mr Elliot to me?” +The careless expression was life to Anne, who saw that Captain Wentworth was +all attention, looking and listening with his whole soul; and that the last +words brought his enquiring eyes from Charles to herself. +</p> + +<p> +Charles and Mary still talked on in the same style; he, half serious and half +jesting, maintaining the scheme for the play, and she, invariably serious, most +warmly opposing it, and not omitting to make it known that, however determined +to go to Camden Place herself, she should not think herself very well used, if +they went to the play without her. Mrs Musgrove interposed. +</p> + +<p> +“We had better put it off. Charles, you had much better go back and +change the box for Tuesday. It would be a pity to be divided, and we should be +losing Miss Anne, too, if there is a party at her father’s; and I am sure +neither Henrietta nor I should care at all for the play, if Miss Anne could not +be with us.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne felt truly obliged to her for such kindness; and quite as much so for the +opportunity it gave her of decidedly saying— +</p> + +<p> +“If it depended only on my inclination, ma’am, the party at home +(excepting on Mary’s account) would not be the smallest impediment. I +have no pleasure in the sort of meeting, and should be too happy to change it +for a play, and with you. But, it had better not be attempted, perhaps.” +She had spoken it; but she trembled when it was done, conscious that her words +were listened to, and daring not even to try to observe their effect. +</p> + +<p> +It was soon generally agreed that Tuesday should be the day; Charles only +reserving the advantage of still teasing his wife, by persisting that he would +go to the play to-morrow if nobody else would. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Wentworth left his seat, and walked to the fire-place; probably for the +sake of walking away from it soon afterwards, and taking a station, with less +bare-faced design, by Anne. +</p> + +<p> +“You have not been long enough in Bath,” said he, “to enjoy +the evening parties of the place.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! no. The usual character of them has nothing for me. I am no +card-player.” +</p> + +<p> +“You were not formerly, I know. You did not use to like cards; but time +makes many changes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not yet so much changed,” cried Anne, and stopped, fearing +she hardly knew what misconstruction. After waiting a few moments he said, and +as if it were the result of immediate feeling, “It is a period, indeed! +Eight years and a half is a period.” +</p> + +<p> +Whether he would have proceeded farther was left to Anne’s imagination to +ponder over in a calmer hour; for while still hearing the sounds he had +uttered, she was startled to other subjects by Henrietta, eager to make use of +the present leisure for getting out, and calling on her companions to lose no +time, lest somebody else should come in. +</p> + +<p> +They were obliged to move. Anne talked of being perfectly ready, and tried to +look it; but she felt that could Henrietta have known the regret and reluctance +of her heart in quitting that chair, in preparing to quit the room, she would +have found, in all her own sensations for her cousin, in the very security of +his affection, wherewith to pity her. +</p> + +<p> +Their preparations, however, were stopped short. Alarming sounds were heard; +other visitors approached, and the door was thrown open for Sir Walter and Miss +Elliot, whose entrance seemed to give a general chill. Anne felt an instant +oppression, and wherever she looked saw symptoms of the same. The comfort, the +freedom, the gaiety of the room was over, hushed into cold composure, +determined silence, or insipid talk, to meet the heartless elegance of her +father and sister. How mortifying to feel that it was so! +</p> + +<p> +Her jealous eye was satisfied in one particular. Captain Wentworth was +acknowledged again by each, by Elizabeth more graciously than before. She even +addressed him once, and looked at him more than once. Elizabeth was, in fact, +revolving a great measure. The sequel explained it. After the waste of a few +minutes in saying the proper nothings, she began to give the invitation which +was to comprise all the remaining dues of the Musgroves. “To-morrow +evening, to meet a few friends: no formal party.” It was all said very +gracefully, and the cards with which she had provided herself, the “Miss +Elliot at home,” were laid on the table, with a courteous, comprehensive +smile to all, and one smile and one card more decidedly for Captain Wentworth. +The truth was, that Elizabeth had been long enough in Bath to understand the +importance of a man of such an air and appearance as his. The past was nothing. +The present was that Captain Wentworth would move about well in her +drawing-room. The card was pointedly given, and Sir Walter and Elizabeth arose +and disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +The interruption had been short, though severe, and ease and animation returned +to most of those they left as the door shut them out, but not to Anne. She +could think only of the invitation she had with such astonishment witnessed, +and of the manner in which it had been received; a manner of doubtful meaning, +of surprise rather than gratification, of polite acknowledgement rather than +acceptance. She knew him; she saw disdain in his eye, and could not venture to +believe that he had determined to accept such an offering, as an atonement for +all the insolence of the past. Her spirits sank. He held the card in his hand +after they were gone, as if deeply considering it. +</p> + +<p> +“Only think of Elizabeth’s including everybody!” whispered +Mary very audibly. “I do not wonder Captain Wentworth is delighted! You +see he cannot put the card out of his hand.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne caught his eye, saw his cheeks glow, and his mouth form itself into a +momentary expression of contempt, and turned away, that she might neither see +nor hear more to vex her. +</p> + +<p> +The party separated. The gentlemen had their own pursuits, the ladies proceeded +on their own business, and they met no more while Anne belonged to them. She +was earnestly begged to return and dine, and give them all the rest of the day, +but her spirits had been so long exerted that at present she felt unequal to +more, and fit only for home, where she might be sure of being as silent as she +chose. +</p> + +<p> +Promising to be with them the whole of the following morning, therefore, she +closed the fatigues of the present by a toilsome walk to Camden Place, there to +spend the evening chiefly in listening to the busy arrangements of Elizabeth +and Mrs Clay for the morrow’s party, the frequent enumeration of the +persons invited, and the continually improving detail of all the embellishments +which were to make it the most completely elegant of its kind in Bath, while +harassing herself with the never-ending question, of whether Captain Wentworth +would come or not? They were reckoning him as certain, but with her it was a +gnawing solicitude never appeased for five minutes together. She generally +thought he would come, because she generally thought he ought; but it was a +case which she could not so shape into any positive act of duty or discretion, +as inevitably to defy the suggestions of very opposite feelings. +</p> + +<p> +She only roused herself from the broodings of this restless agitation, to let +Mrs Clay know that she had been seen with Mr Elliot three hours after his being +supposed to be out of Bath, for having watched in vain for some intimation of +the interview from the lady herself, she determined to mention it, and it +seemed to her there was guilt in Mrs Clay’s face as she listened. It was +transient: cleared away in an instant; but Anne could imagine she read there +the consciousness of having, by some complication of mutual trick, or some +overbearing authority of his, been obliged to attend (perhaps for half an hour) +to his lectures and restrictions on her designs on Sir Walter. She exclaimed, +however, with a very tolerable imitation of nature:— +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! dear! very true. Only think, Miss Elliot, to my great surprise I met +with Mr Elliot in Bath Street. I was never more astonished. He turned back and +walked with me to the Pump Yard. He had been prevented setting off for +Thornberry, but I really forget by what; for I was in a hurry, and could not +much attend, and I can only answer for his being determined not to be delayed +in his return. He wanted to know how early he might be admitted to-morrow. He +was full of ‘to-morrow,’ and it is very evident that I have been +full of it too, ever since I entered the house, and learnt the extension of +your plan and all that had happened, or my seeing him could never have gone so +entirely out of my head.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap23"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<p> +One day only had passed since Anne’s conversation with Mrs Smith; but a +keener interest had succeeded, and she was now so little touched by Mr +Elliot’s conduct, except by its effects in one quarter, that it became a +matter of course the next morning, still to defer her explanatory visit in +Rivers Street. She had promised to be with the Musgroves from breakfast to +dinner. Her faith was plighted, and Mr Elliot’s character, like the +Sultaness Scheherazade’s head, must live another day. +</p> + +<p> +She could not keep her appointment punctually, however; the weather was +unfavourable, and she had grieved over the rain on her friends’ account, +and felt it very much on her own, before she was able to attempt the walk. When +she reached the White Hart, and made her way to the proper apartment, she found +herself neither arriving quite in time, nor the first to arrive. The party +before her were, Mrs Musgrove, talking to Mrs Croft, and Captain Harville to +Captain Wentworth; and she immediately heard that Mary and Henrietta, too +impatient to wait, had gone out the moment it had cleared, but would be back +again soon, and that the strictest injunctions had been left with Mrs Musgrove +to keep her there till they returned. She had only to submit, sit down, be +outwardly composed, and feel herself plunged at once in all the agitations +which she had merely laid her account of tasting a little before the morning +closed. There was no delay, no waste of time. She was deep in the happiness of +such misery, or the misery of such happiness, instantly. Two minutes after her +entering the room, Captain Wentworth said— +</p> + +<p> +“We will write the letter we were talking of, Harville, now, if you will +give me materials.” +</p> + +<p> +Materials were at hand, on a separate table; he went to it, and nearly turning +his back to them all, was engrossed by writing. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Musgrove was giving Mrs Croft the history of her eldest daughter’s +engagement, and just in that inconvenient tone of voice which was perfectly +audible while it pretended to be a whisper. Anne felt that she did not belong +to the conversation, and yet, as Captain Harville seemed thoughtful and not +disposed to talk, she could not avoid hearing many undesirable particulars; +such as, “how Mr Musgrove and my brother Hayter had met again and again +to talk it over; what my brother Hayter had said one day, and what Mr Musgrove +had proposed the next, and what had occurred to my sister Hayter, and what the +young people had wished, and what I said at first I never could consent to, but +was afterwards persuaded to think might do very well,” and a great deal +in the same style of open-hearted communication: minutiae which, even with +every advantage of taste and delicacy, which good Mrs Musgrove could not give, +could be properly interesting only to the principals. Mrs Croft was attending +with great good-humour, and whenever she spoke at all, it was very sensibly. +Anne hoped the gentlemen might each be too much self-occupied to hear. +</p> + +<p> +“And so, ma’am, all these thing considered,” said Mrs +Musgrove, in her powerful whisper, “though we could have wished it +different, yet, altogether, we did not think it fair to stand out any longer, +for Charles Hayter was quite wild about it, and Henrietta was pretty near as +bad; and so we thought they had better marry at once, and make the best of it, +as many others have done before them. At any rate, said I, it will be better +than a long engagement.” +</p> + +<p> +“That is precisely what I was going to observe,” cried Mrs Croft. +“I would rather have young people settle on a small income at once, and +have to struggle with a few difficulties together, than be involved in a long +engagement. I always think that no mutual—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! dear Mrs Croft,” cried Mrs Musgrove, unable to let her finish +her speech, “there is nothing I so abominate for young people as a long +engagement. It is what I always protested against for my children. It is all +very well, I used to say, for young people to be engaged, if there is a +certainty of their being able to marry in six months, or even in twelve; but a +long engagement—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, dear ma’am,” said Mrs Croft, “or an uncertain +engagement, an engagement which may be long. To begin without knowing that at +such a time there will be the means of marrying, I hold to be very unsafe and +unwise, and what I think all parents should prevent as far as they can.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne found an unexpected interest here. She felt its application to herself, +felt it in a nervous thrill all over her; and at the same moment that her eyes +instinctively glanced towards the distant table, Captain Wentworth’s pen +ceased to move, his head was raised, pausing, listening, and he turned round +the next instant to give a look, one quick, conscious look at her. +</p> + +<p> +The two ladies continued to talk, to re-urge the same admitted truths, and +enforce them with such examples of the ill effect of a contrary practice as had +fallen within their observation, but Anne heard nothing distinctly; it was only +a buzz of words in her ear, her mind was in confusion. +</p> + +<p> +Captain Harville, who had in truth been hearing none of it, now left his seat, +and moved to a window, and Anne seeming to watch him, though it was from +thorough absence of mind, became gradually sensible that he was inviting her to +join him where he stood. He looked at her with a smile, and a little motion of +the head, which expressed, “Come to me, I have something to say;” +and the unaffected, easy kindness of manner which denoted the feelings of an +older acquaintance than he really was, strongly enforced the invitation. She +roused herself and went to him. The window at which he stood was at the other +end of the room from where the two ladies were sitting, and though nearer to +Captain Wentworth’s table, not very near. As she joined him, Captain +Harville’s countenance re-assumed the serious, thoughtful expression +which seemed its natural character. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here,” said he, unfolding a parcel in his hand, and +displaying a small miniature painting, “do you know who that is?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly: Captain Benwick.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, and you may guess who it is for. But,” (in a deep tone), +“it was not done for her. Miss Elliot, do you remember our walking +together at Lyme, and grieving for him? I little thought then—but no +matter. This was drawn at the Cape. He met with a clever young German artist at +the Cape, and in compliance with a promise to my poor sister, sat to him, and +was bringing it home for her; and I have now the charge of getting it properly +set for another! It was a commission to me! But who else was there to employ? I +hope I can allow for him. I am not sorry, indeed, to make it over to another. +He undertakes it;” (looking towards Captain Wentworth,) “he is +writing about it now.” And with a quivering lip he wound up the whole by +adding, “Poor Fanny! she would not have forgotten him so soon!” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” replied Anne, in a low, feeling voice. “That I can +easily believe.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was not in her nature. She doted on him.” +</p> + +<p> +“It would not be the nature of any woman who truly loved.” +</p> + +<p> +Captain Harville smiled, as much as to say, “Do you claim that for your +sex?” and she answered the question, smiling also, “Yes. We +certainly do not forget you as soon as you forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate +rather than our merit. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, +confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You are forced on exertion. You have +always a profession, pursuits, business of some sort or other, to take you back +into the world immediately, and continual occupation and change soon weaken +impressions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Granting your assertion that the world does all this so soon for men +(which, however, I do not think I shall grant), it does not apply to Benwick. +He has not been forced upon any exertion. The peace turned him on shore at the +very moment, and he has been living with us, in our little family circle, ever +since.” +</p> + +<p> +“True,” said Anne, “very true; I did not recollect; but what +shall we say now, Captain Harville? If the change be not from outward +circumstances, it must be from within; it must be nature, man’s nature, +which has done the business for Captain Benwick.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, it is not man’s nature. I will not allow it to be more +man’s nature than woman’s to be inconstant and forget those they do +love, or have loved. I believe the reverse. I believe in a true analogy between +our bodily frames and our mental; and that as our bodies are the strongest, so +are our feelings; capable of bearing most rough usage, and riding out the +heaviest weather.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your feelings may be the strongest,” replied Anne, “but the +same spirit of analogy will authorise me to assert that ours are the most +tender. Man is more robust than woman, but he is not longer lived; which +exactly explains my view of the nature of their attachments. Nay, it would be +too hard upon you, if it were otherwise. You have difficulties, and privations, +and dangers enough to struggle with. You are always labouring and toiling, +exposed to every risk and hardship. Your home, country, friends, all quitted. +Neither time, nor health, nor life, to be called your own. It would be hard, +indeed” (with a faltering voice), “if woman’s feelings were +to be added to all this.” +</p> + +<p> +“We shall never agree upon this question,” Captain Harville was +beginning to say, when a slight noise called their attention to Captain +Wentworth’s hitherto perfectly quiet division of the room. It was nothing +more than that his pen had fallen down; but Anne was startled at finding him +nearer than she had supposed, and half inclined to suspect that the pen had +only fallen because he had been occupied by them, striving to catch sounds, +which yet she did not think he could have caught. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you finished your letter?” said Captain Harville. +</p> + +<p> +“Not quite, a few lines more. I shall have done in five minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“There is no hurry on my side. I am only ready whenever you are. I am in +very good anchorage here,” (smiling at Anne), “well supplied, and +want for nothing. No hurry for a signal at all. Well, Miss Elliot,” +(lowering his voice), “as I was saying, we shall never agree, I suppose, +upon this point. No man and woman would, probably. But let me observe that all +histories are against you—all stories, prose and verse. If I had such a +memory as Benwick, I could bring you fifty quotations in a moment on my side +the argument, and I do not think I ever opened a book in my life which had not +something to say upon woman’s inconstancy. Songs and proverbs, all talk +of woman’s fickleness. But perhaps you will say, these were all written +by men.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to examples in +books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education +has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I +will not allow books to prove anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“But how shall we prove anything?” +</p> + +<p> +“We never shall. We never can expect to prove any thing upon such a +point. It is a difference of opinion which does not admit of proof. We each +begin, probably, with a little bias towards our own sex; and upon that bias +build every circumstance in favour of it which has occurred within our own +circle; many of which circumstances (perhaps those very cases which strike us +the most) may be precisely such as cannot be brought forward without betraying +a confidence, or in some respect saying what should not be said.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” cried Captain Harville, in a tone of strong feeling, +“if I could but make you comprehend what a man suffers when he takes a +last look at his wife and children, and watches the boat that he has sent them +off in, as long as it is in sight, and then turns away and says, ‘God +knows whether we ever meet again!’ And then, if I could convey to you the +glow of his soul when he does see them again; when, coming back after a +twelvemonth’s absence, perhaps, and obliged to put into another port, he +calculates how soon it be possible to get them there, pretending to deceive +himself, and saying, ‘They cannot be here till such a day,’ but all +the while hoping for them twelve hours sooner, and seeing them arrive at last, +as if Heaven had given them wings, by many hours sooner still! If I could +explain to you all this, and all that a man can bear and do, and glories to do, +for the sake of these treasures of his existence! I speak, you know, only of +such men as have hearts!” pressing his own with emotion. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” cried Anne eagerly, “I hope I do justice to all that is +felt by you, and by those who resemble you. God forbid that I should undervalue +the warm and faithful feelings of any of my fellow-creatures! I should deserve +utter contempt if I dared to suppose that true attachment and constancy were +known only by woman. No, I believe you capable of everything great and good in +your married lives. I believe you equal to every important exertion, and to +every domestic forbearance, so long as—if I may be allowed the +expression—so long as you have an object. I mean while the woman you love +lives, and lives for you. All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a +very enviable one; you need not covet it), is that of loving longest, when +existence or when hope is gone.” +</p> + +<p> +She could not immediately have uttered another sentence; her heart was too +full, her breath too much oppressed. +</p> + +<p> +“You are a good soul,” cried Captain Harville, putting his hand on +her arm, quite affectionately. “There is no quarrelling with you. And +when I think of Benwick, my tongue is tied.” +</p> + +<p> +Their attention was called towards the others. Mrs Croft was taking leave. +</p> + +<p> +“Here, Frederick, you and I part company, I believe,” said she. +“I am going home, and you have an engagement with your friend. To-night +we may have the pleasure of all meeting again at your party,” (turning to +Anne). “We had your sister’s card yesterday, and I understood +Frederick had a card too, though I did not see it; and you are disengaged, +Frederick, are you not, as well as ourselves?” +</p> + +<p> +Captain Wentworth was folding up a letter in great haste, and either could not +or would not answer fully. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” said he, “very true; here we separate, but Harville +and I shall soon be after you; that is, Harville, if you are ready, I am in +half a minute. I know you will not be sorry to be off. I shall be at your +service in half a minute.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Croft left them, and Captain Wentworth, having sealed his letter with great +rapidity, was indeed ready, and had even a hurried, agitated air, which shewed +impatience to be gone. Anne knew not how to understand it. She had the kindest +“Good morning, God bless you!” from Captain Harville, but from him +not a word, nor a look! He had passed out of the room without a look! +</p> + +<p> +She had only time, however, to move closer to the table where he had been +writing, when footsteps were heard returning; the door opened, it was himself. +He begged their pardon, but he had forgotten his gloves, and instantly crossing +the room to the writing table, he drew out a letter from under the scattered +paper, placed it before Anne with eyes of glowing entreaty fixed on her for a +time, and hastily collecting his gloves, was again out of the room, almost +before Mrs Musgrove was aware of his being in it: the work of an instant! +</p> + +<p> +The revolution which one instant had made in Anne, was almost beyond +expression. The letter, with a direction hardly legible, to “Miss A. +E.—,” was evidently the one which he had been folding so hastily. +While supposed to be writing only to Captain Benwick, he had been also +addressing her! On the contents of that letter depended all which this world +could do for her. Anything was possible, anything might be defied rather than +suspense. Mrs Musgrove had little arrangements of her own at her own table; to +their protection she must trust, and sinking into the chair which he had +occupied, succeeding to the very spot where he had leaned and written, her eyes +devoured the following words: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as +are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me +not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer +myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke +it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than +woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I +may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone +have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen +this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these +ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated +mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers +me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when +they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us +justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy +among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in +</p> + +<p class="right"> +F. W. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow +your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide +whether I enter your father’s house this evening or never.” +</p> + +<p> +Such a letter was not to be soon recovered from. Half an hour’s solitude +and reflection might have tranquillized her; but the ten minutes only which now +passed before she was interrupted, with all the restraints of her situation, +could do nothing towards tranquillity. Every moment rather brought fresh +agitation. It was overpowering happiness. And before she was beyond the first +stage of full sensation, Charles, Mary, and Henrietta all came in. +</p> + +<p> +The absolute necessity of seeming like herself produced then an immediate +struggle; but after a while she could do no more. She began not to understand a +word they said, and was obliged to plead indisposition and excuse herself. They +could then see that she looked very ill, were shocked and concerned, and would +not stir without her for the world. This was dreadful. Would they only have +gone away, and left her in the quiet possession of that room it would have been +her cure; but to have them all standing or waiting around her was distracting, +and in desperation, she said she would go home. +</p> + +<p> +“By all means, my dear,” cried Mrs Musgrove, “go home +directly, and take care of yourself, that you may be fit for the evening. I +wish Sarah was here to doctor you, but I am no doctor myself. Charles, ring and +order a chair. She must not walk.” +</p> + +<p> +But the chair would never do. Worse than all! To lose the possibility of +speaking two words to Captain Wentworth in the course of her quiet, solitary +progress up the town (and she felt almost certain of meeting him) could not be +borne. The chair was earnestly protested against, and Mrs Musgrove, who thought +only of one sort of illness, having assured herself with some anxiety, that +there had been no fall in the case; that Anne had not at any time lately +slipped down, and got a blow on her head; that she was perfectly convinced of +having had no fall; could part with her cheerfully, and depend on finding her +better at night. +</p> + +<p> +Anxious to omit no possible precaution, Anne struggled, and said— +</p> + +<p> +“I am afraid, ma’am, that it is not perfectly understood. Pray be +so good as to mention to the other gentlemen that we hope to see your whole +party this evening. I am afraid there had been some mistake; and I wish you +particularly to assure Captain Harville and Captain Wentworth, that we hope to +see them both.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! my dear, it is quite understood, I give you my word. Captain +Harville has no thought but of going.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think so? But I am afraid; and I should be so very sorry. Will +you promise me to mention it, when you see them again? You will see them both +this morning, I dare say. Do promise me.” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure I will, if you wish it. Charles, if you see Captain Harville +anywhere, remember to give Miss Anne’s message. But indeed, my dear, you +need not be uneasy. Captain Harville holds himself quite engaged, I’ll +answer for it; and Captain Wentworth the same, I dare say.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne could do no more; but her heart prophesied some mischance to damp the +perfection of her felicity. It could not be very lasting, however. Even if he +did not come to Camden Place himself, it would be in her power to send an +intelligible sentence by Captain Harville. Another momentary vexation occurred. +Charles, in his real concern and good nature, would go home with her; there was +no preventing him. This was almost cruel. But she could not be long ungrateful; +he was sacrificing an engagement at a gunsmith’s, to be of use to her; +and she set off with him, with no feeling but gratitude apparent. +</p> + +<p> +They were on Union Street, when a quicker step behind, a something of familiar +sound, gave her two moments’ preparation for the sight of Captain +Wentworth. He joined them; but, as if irresolute whether to join or to pass on, +said nothing, only looked. Anne could command herself enough to receive that +look, and not repulsively. The cheeks which had been pale now glowed, and the +movements which had hesitated were decided. He walked by her side. Presently, +struck by a sudden thought, Charles said— +</p> + +<p> +“Captain Wentworth, which way are you going? Only to Gay Street, or +farther up the town?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly know,” replied Captain Wentworth, surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you going as high as Belmont? Are you going near Camden Place? +Because, if you are, I shall have no scruple in asking you to take my place, +and give Anne your arm to her father’s door. She is rather done for this +morning, and must not go so far without help, and I ought to be at that +fellow’s in the Market Place. He promised me the sight of a capital gun +he is just going to send off; said he would keep it unpacked to the last +possible moment, that I might see it; and if I do not turn back now, I have no +chance. By his description, a good deal like the second size double-barrel of +mine, which you shot with one day round Winthrop.” +</p> + +<p> +There could not be an objection. There could be only the most proper alacrity, +a most obliging compliance for public view; and smiles reined in and spirits +dancing in private rapture. In half a minute Charles was at the bottom of Union +Street again, and the other two proceeding together: and soon words enough had +passed between them to decide their direction towards the comparatively quiet +and retired gravel walk, where the power of conversation would make the present +hour a blessing indeed, and prepare it for all the immortality which the +happiest recollections of their own future lives could bestow. There they +exchanged again those feelings and those promises which had once before seemed +to secure everything, but which had been followed by so many, many years of +division and estrangement. There they returned again into the past, more +exquisitely happy, perhaps, in their re-union, than when it had been first +projected; more tender, more tried, more fixed in a knowledge of each +other’s character, truth, and attachment; more equal to act, more +justified in acting. And there, as they slowly paced the gradual ascent, +heedless of every group around them, seeing neither sauntering politicians, +bustling housekeepers, flirting girls, nor nursery-maids and children, they +could indulge in those retrospections and acknowledgements, and especially in +those explanations of what had directly preceded the present moment, which were +so poignant and so ceaseless in interest. All the little variations of the last +week were gone through; and of yesterday and to-day there could scarcely be an +end. +</p> + +<p> +She had not mistaken him. Jealousy of Mr Elliot had been the retarding weight, +the doubt, the torment. That had begun to operate in the very hour of first +meeting her in Bath; that had returned, after a short suspension, to ruin the +concert; and that had influenced him in everything he had said and done, or +omitted to say and do, in the last four-and-twenty hours. It had been gradually +yielding to the better hopes which her looks, or words, or actions occasionally +encouraged; it had been vanquished at last by those sentiments and those tones +which had reached him while she talked with Captain Harville; and under the +irresistible governance of which he had seized a sheet of paper, and poured out +his feelings. +</p> + +<p> +Of what he had then written, nothing was to be retracted or qualified. He +persisted in having loved none but her. She had never been supplanted. He never +even believed himself to see her equal. Thus much indeed he was obliged to +acknowledge: that he had been constant unconsciously, nay unintentionally; that +he had meant to forget her, and believed it to be done. He had imagined himself +indifferent, when he had only been angry; and he had been unjust to her merits, +because he had been a sufferer from them. Her character was now fixed on his +mind as perfection itself, maintaining the loveliest medium of fortitude and +gentleness; but he was obliged to acknowledge that only at Uppercross had he +learnt to do her justice, and only at Lyme had he begun to understand himself. +At Lyme, he had received lessons of more than one sort. The passing admiration +of Mr Elliot had at least roused him, and the scenes on the Cobb and at Captain +Harville’s had fixed her superiority. +</p> + +<p> +In his preceding attempts to attach himself to Louisa Musgrove (the attempts of +angry pride), he protested that he had for ever felt it to be impossible; that +he had not cared, could not care, for Louisa; though till that day, till the +leisure for reflection which followed it, he had not understood the perfect +excellence of the mind with which Louisa’s could so ill bear a +comparison, or the perfect unrivalled hold it possessed over his own. There, he +had learnt to distinguish between the steadiness of principle and the obstinacy +of self-will, between the darings of heedlessness and the resolution of a +collected mind. There he had seen everything to exalt in his estimation the +woman he had lost; and there begun to deplore the pride, the folly, the madness +of resentment, which had kept him from trying to regain her when thrown in his +way. +</p> + +<p> +From that period his penance had become severe. He had no sooner been free from +the horror and remorse attending the first few days of Louisa’s accident, +no sooner begun to feel himself alive again, than he had begun to feel himself, +though alive, not at liberty. +</p> + +<p> +“I found,” said he, “that I was considered by Harville an +engaged man! That neither Harville nor his wife entertained a doubt of our +mutual attachment. I was startled and shocked. To a degree, I could contradict +this instantly; but, when I began to reflect that others might have felt the +same—her own family, nay, perhaps herself—I was no longer at my own +disposal. I was hers in honour if she wished it. I had been unguarded. I had +not thought seriously on this subject before. I had not considered that my +excessive intimacy must have its danger of ill consequence in many ways; and +that I had no right to be trying whether I could attach myself to either of the +girls, at the risk of raising even an unpleasant report, were there no other +ill effects. I had been grossly wrong, and must abide the consequences.” +</p> + +<p> +He found too late, in short, that he had entangled himself; and that precisely +as he became fully satisfied of his not caring for Louisa at all, he must +regard himself as bound to her, if her sentiments for him were what the +Harvilles supposed. It determined him to leave Lyme, and await her complete +recovery elsewhere. He would gladly weaken, by any fair means, whatever +feelings or speculations concerning him might exist; and he went, therefore, to +his brother’s, meaning after a while to return to Kellynch, and act as +circumstances might require. +</p> + +<p> +“I was six weeks with Edward,” said he, “and saw him happy. I +could have no other pleasure. I deserved none. He enquired after you very +particularly; asked even if you were personally altered, little suspecting that +to my eye you could never alter.” +</p> + +<p> +Anne smiled, and let it pass. It was too pleasing a blunder for a reproach. It +is something for a woman to be assured, in her eight-and-twentieth year, that +she has not lost one charm of earlier youth; but the value of such homage was +inexpressibly increased to Anne, by comparing it with former words, and feeling +it to be the result, not the cause of a revival of his warm attachment. +</p> + +<p> +He had remained in Shropshire, lamenting the blindness of his own pride, and +the blunders of his own calculations, till at once released from Louisa by the +astonishing and felicitous intelligence of her engagement with Benwick. +</p> + +<p> +“Here,” said he, “ended the worst of my state; for now I +could at least put myself in the way of happiness; I could exert myself; I +could do something. But to be waiting so long in inaction, and waiting only for +evil, had been dreadful. Within the first five minutes I said, ‘I will be +at Bath on Wednesday,’ and I was. Was it unpardonable to think it worth +my while to come? and to arrive with some degree of hope? You were single. It +was possible that you might retain the feelings of the past, as I did; and one +encouragement happened to be mine. I could never doubt that you would be loved +and sought by others, but I knew to a certainty that you had refused one man, +at least, of better pretensions than myself; and I could not help often saying, +‘Was this for me?’” +</p> + +<p> +Their first meeting in Milsom Street afforded much to be said, but the concert +still more. That evening seemed to be made up of exquisite moments. The moment +of her stepping forward in the Octagon Room to speak to him: the moment of Mr +Elliot’s appearing and tearing her away, and one or two subsequent +moments, marked by returning hope or increasing despondency, were dwelt on with +energy. +</p> + +<p> +“To see you,” cried he, “in the midst of those who could not +be my well-wishers; to see your cousin close by you, conversing and smiling, +and feel all the horrible eligibilities and proprieties of the match! To +consider it as the certain wish of every being who could hope to influence you! +Even if your own feelings were reluctant or indifferent, to consider what +powerful supports would be his! Was it not enough to make the fool of me which +I appeared? How could I look on without agony? Was not the very sight of the +friend who sat behind you, was not the recollection of what had been, the +knowledge of her influence, the indelible, immoveable impression of what +persuasion had once done—was it not all against me?” +</p> + +<p> +“You should have distinguished,” replied Anne. “You should +not have suspected me now; the case is so different, and my age is so +different. If I was wrong in yielding to persuasion once, remember that it was +to persuasion exerted on the side of safety, not of risk. When I yielded, I +thought it was to duty, but no duty could be called in aid here. In marrying a +man indifferent to me, all risk would have been incurred, and all duty +violated.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps I ought to have reasoned thus,” he replied, “but I +could not. I could not derive benefit from the late knowledge I had acquired of +your character. I could not bring it into play; it was overwhelmed, buried, +lost in those earlier feelings which I had been smarting under year after year. +I could think of you only as one who had yielded, who had given me up, who had +been influenced by any one rather than by me. I saw you with the very person +who had guided you in that year of misery. I had no reason to believe her of +less authority now. The force of habit was to be added.” +</p> + +<p> +“I should have thought,” said Anne, “that my manner to +yourself might have spared you much or all of this.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no! your manner might be only the ease which your engagement to +another man would give. I left you in this belief; and yet, I was determined to +see you again. My spirits rallied with the morning, and I felt that I had still +a motive for remaining here.” +</p> + +<p> +At last Anne was at home again, and happier than any one in that house could +have conceived. All the surprise and suspense, and every other painful part of +the morning dissipated by this conversation, she re-entered the house so happy +as to be obliged to find an alloy in some momentary apprehensions of its being +impossible to last. An interval of meditation, serious and grateful, was the +best corrective of everything dangerous in such high-wrought felicity; and she +went to her room, and grew steadfast and fearless in the thankfulness of her +enjoyment. +</p> + +<p> +The evening came, the drawing-rooms were lighted up, the company assembled. It +was but a card party, it was but a mixture of those who had never met before, +and those who met too often; a commonplace business, too numerous for intimacy, +too small for variety; but Anne had never found an evening shorter. Glowing and +lovely in sensibility and happiness, and more generally admired than she +thought about or cared for, she had cheerful or forbearing feelings for every +creature around her. Mr Elliot was there; she avoided, but she could pity him. +The Wallises, she had amusement in understanding them. Lady Dalrymple and Miss +Carteret—they would soon be innoxious cousins to her. She cared not for +Mrs Clay, and had nothing to blush for in the public manners of her father and +sister. With the Musgroves, there was the happy chat of perfect ease; with +Captain Harville, the kind-hearted intercourse of brother and sister; with Lady +Russell, attempts at conversation, which a delicious consciousness cut short; +with Admiral and Mrs Croft, everything of peculiar cordiality and fervent +interest, which the same consciousness sought to conceal; and with Captain +Wentworth, some moments of communications continually occurring, and always the +hope of more, and always the knowledge of his being there. +</p> + +<p> +It was in one of these short meetings, each apparently occupied in admiring a +fine display of greenhouse plants, that she said— +</p> + +<p> +“I have been thinking over the past, and trying impartially to judge of +the right and wrong, I mean with regard to myself; and I must believe that I +was right, much as I suffered from it, that I was perfectly right in being +guided by the friend whom you will love better than you do now. To me, she was +in the place of a parent. Do not mistake me, however. I am not saying that she +did not err in her advice. It was, perhaps, one of those cases in which advice +is good or bad only as the event decides; and for myself, I certainly never +should, in any circumstance of tolerable similarity, give such advice. But I +mean, that I was right in submitting to her, and that if I had done otherwise, +I should have suffered more in continuing the engagement than I did even in +giving it up, because I should have suffered in my conscience. I have now, as +far as such a sentiment is allowable in human nature, nothing to reproach +myself with; and if I mistake not, a strong sense of duty is no bad part of a +woman’s portion.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked at her, looked at Lady Russell, and looking again at her, replied, as +if in cool deliberation— +</p> + +<p> +“Not yet. But there are hopes of her being forgiven in time. I trust to +being in charity with her soon. But I too have been thinking over the past, and +a question has suggested itself, whether there may not have been one person +more my enemy even than that lady? My own self. Tell me if, when I returned to +England in the year eight, with a few thousand pounds, and was posted into the +Laconia, if I had then written to you, would you have answered my letter? Would +you, in short, have renewed the engagement then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Would I!” was all her answer; but the accent was decisive enough. +</p> + +<p> +“Good God!” he cried, “you would! It is not that I did not +think of it, or desire it, as what could alone crown all my other success; but +I was proud, too proud to ask again. I did not understand you. I shut my eyes, +and would not understand you, or do you justice. This is a recollection which +ought to make me forgive every one sooner than myself. Six years of separation +and suffering might have been spared. It is a sort of pain, too, which is new +to me. I have been used to the gratification of believing myself to earn every +blessing that I enjoyed. I have valued myself on honourable toils and just +rewards. Like other great men under reverses,” he added, with a smile. +“I must endeavour to subdue my mind to my fortune. I must learn to brook +being happier than I deserve.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a id="chap24"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<p> +Who can be in doubt of what followed? When any two young people take it into +their heads to marry, they are pretty sure by perseverance to carry their +point, be they ever so poor, or ever so imprudent, or ever so little likely to +be necessary to each other’s ultimate comfort. This may be bad morality +to conclude with, but I believe it to be truth; and if such parties succeed, +how should a Captain Wentworth and an Anne Elliot, with the advantage of +maturity of mind, consciousness of right, and one independent fortune between +them, fail of bearing down every opposition? They might in fact, have borne +down a great deal more than they met with, for there was little to distress +them beyond the want of graciousness and warmth. Sir Walter made no objection, +and Elizabeth did nothing worse than look cold and unconcerned. Captain +Wentworth, with five-and-twenty thousand pounds, and as high in his profession +as merit and activity could place him, was no longer nobody. He was now +esteemed quite worthy to address the daughter of a foolish, spendthrift +baronet, who had not had principle or sense enough to maintain himself in the +situation in which Providence had placed him, and who could give his daughter +at present but a small part of the share of ten thousand pounds which must be +hers hereafter. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter, indeed, though he had no affection for Anne, and no vanity +flattered, to make him really happy on the occasion, was very far from thinking +it a bad match for her. On the contrary, when he saw more of Captain Wentworth, +saw him repeatedly by daylight, and eyed him well, he was very much struck by +his personal claims, and felt that his superiority of appearance might be not +unfairly balanced against her superiority of rank; and all this, assisted by +his well-sounding name, enabled Sir Walter at last to prepare his pen, with a +very good grace, for the insertion of the marriage in the volume of honour. +</p> + +<p> +The only one among them, whose opposition of feeling could excite any serious +anxiety was Lady Russell. Anne knew that Lady Russell must be suffering some +pain in understanding and relinquishing Mr Elliot, and be making some struggles +to become truly acquainted with, and do justice to Captain Wentworth. This +however was what Lady Russell had now to do. She must learn to feel that she +had been mistaken with regard to both; that she had been unfairly influenced by +appearances in each; that because Captain Wentworth’s manners had not +suited her own ideas, she had been too quick in suspecting them to indicate a +character of dangerous impetuosity; and that because Mr Elliot’s manners +had precisely pleased her in their propriety and correctness, their general +politeness and suavity, she had been too quick in receiving them as the certain +result of the most correct opinions and well-regulated mind. There was nothing +less for Lady Russell to do, than to admit that she had been pretty completely +wrong, and to take up a new set of opinions and of hopes. +</p> + +<p> +There is a quickness of perception in some, a nicety in the discernment of +character, a natural penetration, in short, which no experience in others can +equal, and Lady Russell had been less gifted in this part of understanding than +her young friend. But she was a very good woman, and if her second object was +to be sensible and well-judging, her first was to see Anne happy. She loved +Anne better than she loved her own abilities; and when the awkwardness of the +beginning was over, found little hardship in attaching herself as a mother to +the man who was securing the happiness of her other child. +</p> + +<p> +Of all the family, Mary was probably the one most immediately gratified by the +circumstance. It was creditable to have a sister married, and she might flatter +herself with having been greatly instrumental to the connexion, by keeping Anne +with her in the autumn; and as her own sister must be better than her +husband’s sisters, it was very agreeable that Captain Wentworth should be +a richer man than either Captain Benwick or Charles Hayter. She had something +to suffer, perhaps, when they came into contact again, in seeing Anne restored +to the rights of seniority, and the mistress of a very pretty landaulette; but +she had a future to look forward to, of powerful consolation. Anne had no +Uppercross Hall before her, no landed estate, no headship of a family; and if +they could but keep Captain Wentworth from being made a baronet, she would not +change situations with Anne. +</p> + +<p> +It would be well for the eldest sister if she were equally satisfied with her +situation, for a change is not very probable there. She had soon the +mortification of seeing Mr Elliot withdraw, and no one of proper condition has +since presented himself to raise even the unfounded hopes which sunk with him. +</p> + +<p> +The news of his cousin Anne’s engagement burst on Mr Elliot most +unexpectedly. It deranged his best plan of domestic happiness, his best hope of +keeping Sir Walter single by the watchfulness which a son-in-law’s rights +would have given. But, though discomfited and disappointed, he could still do +something for his own interest and his own enjoyment. He soon quitted Bath; and +on Mrs Clay’s quitting it soon afterwards, and being next heard of as +established under his protection in London, it was evident how double a game he +had been playing, and how determined he was to save himself from being cut out +by one artful woman, at least. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Clay’s affections had overpowered her interest, and she had +sacrificed, for the young man’s sake, the possibility of scheming longer +for Sir Walter. She has abilities, however, as well as affections; and it is +now a doubtful point whether his cunning, or hers, may finally carry the day; +whether, after preventing her from being the wife of Sir Walter, he may not be +wheedled and caressed at last into making her the wife of Sir William. +</p> + +<p> +It cannot be doubted that Sir Walter and Elizabeth were shocked and mortified +by the loss of their companion, and the discovery of their deception in her. +They had their great cousins, to be sure, to resort to for comfort; but they +must long feel that to flatter and follow others, without being flattered and +followed in turn, is but a state of half enjoyment. +</p> + +<p> +Anne, satisfied at a very early period of Lady Russell’s meaning to love +Captain Wentworth as she ought, had no other alloy to the happiness of her +prospects than what arose from the consciousness of having no relations to +bestow on him which a man of sense could value. There she felt her own +inferiority very keenly. The disproportion in their fortune was nothing; it did +not give her a moment’s regret; but to have no family to receive and +estimate him properly, nothing of respectability, of harmony, of good will to +offer in return for all the worth and all the prompt welcome which met her in +his brothers and sisters, was a source of as lively pain as her mind could well +be sensible of under circumstances of otherwise strong felicity. She had but +two friends in the world to add to his list, Lady Russell and Mrs Smith. To +those, however, he was very well disposed to attach himself. Lady Russell, in +spite of all her former transgressions, he could now value from his heart. +While he was not obliged to say that he believed her to have been right in +originally dividing them, he was ready to say almost everything else in her +favour, and as for Mrs Smith, she had claims of various kinds to recommend her +quickly and permanently. +</p> + +<p> +Her recent good offices by Anne had been enough in themselves, and their +marriage, instead of depriving her of one friend, secured her two. She was +their earliest visitor in their settled life; and Captain Wentworth, by putting +her in the way of recovering her husband’s property in the West Indies, +by writing for her, acting for her, and seeing her through all the petty +difficulties of the case with the activity and exertion of a fearless man and a +determined friend, fully requited the services which she had rendered, or ever +meant to render, to his wife. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs Smith’s enjoyments were not spoiled by this improvement of income, +with some improvement of health, and the acquisition of such friends to be +often with, for her cheerfulness and mental alacrity did not fail her; and +while these prime supplies of good remained, she might have bid defiance even +to greater accessions of worldly prosperity. She might have been absolutely +rich and perfectly healthy, and yet be happy. Her spring of felicity was in the +glow of her spirits, as her friend Anne’s was in the warmth of her heart. +Anne was tenderness itself, and she had the full worth of it in Captain +Wentworth’s affection. His profession was all that could ever make her +friends wish that tenderness less, the dread of a future war all that could dim +her sunshine. She gloried in being a sailor’s wife, but she must pay the +tax of quick alarm for belonging to that profession which is, if possible, more +distinguished in its domestic virtues than in its national importance. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Finis +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 105 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |