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diff --git a/old/105-0.txt b/old/105-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f9b6f76 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/105-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8740 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of Persuasion, by Jane Austen + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: Persuasion + +Author: Jane Austen + +Release Date: February, 1994 [eBook #105] +[Most recently updated: September 10, 2023] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +Produced by: Sharon Partridge and Martin Ward +Revised by Richard Tonsing. + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PERSUASION *** + + + + +Persuasion + + +by Jane Austen + +(1818) + + + + +Contents + + + CHAPTER I. + CHAPTER II. + CHAPTER III. + CHAPTER IV. + CHAPTER V. + CHAPTER VI. + CHAPTER VII. + CHAPTER VIII. + CHAPTER IX. + CHAPTER X. + CHAPTER XI. + CHAPTER XII. + CHAPTER XIII. + CHAPTER XIV. + CHAPTER XV. + CHAPTER XVI. + CHAPTER XVII. + CHAPTER XVIII. + CHAPTER XIX. + CHAPTER XX. + CHAPTER XXI. + CHAPTER XXII. + CHAPTER XXIII. + CHAPTER XXIV. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + + +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: + +“ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH HALL. + + +“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.” + +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. + +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:— + +“Heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., great grandson of the +second Sir Walter.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _does_ marry again, than when she does _not;_ +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. + +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. + +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 +_given_ all the honour and received none: Elizabeth would, one day or +other, marry suitably. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _him_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Mr Shepherd, a civil, cautious lawyer, who, whatever might be his hold +or his views on Sir Walter, would rather have the _disagreeable_ +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +“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—” + +“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?” + +Mr Shepherd laughed, as he knew he must, at this wit, and then added— + +“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.” + +Sir Walter only nodded. But soon afterwards, rising and pacing the +room, he observed sarcastically— + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +After a short pause, Mr Shepherd presumed to say— + +“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.” + +Here Anne spoke— + +“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.” + +“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— + +“The profession has its utility, but I should be sorry to see any +friend of mine belonging to it.” + +“Indeed!” was the reply, and with a look of surprise. + +“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.” + +“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 _their_ 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.” + +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. + +“And who is Admiral Croft?” was Sir Walter’s cold suspicious inquiry. + +Mr Shepherd answered for his being of a gentleman’s family, and +mentioned a place; and Anne, after the little pause which followed, +added— + +“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.” + +“Then I take it for granted,” observed Sir Walter, “that his face is +about as orange as the cuffs and capes of my livery.” + +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. + +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. + +“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?” + +But Mrs Clay was talking so eagerly with Miss Elliot, that she did not +hear the appeal. + +“I have no conception whom you can mean, Shepherd; I remember no +gentleman resident at Monkford since the time of old Governor Trent.” + +“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!” + +After waiting another moment— + +“You mean Mr Wentworth, I suppose?” said Anne. + +Mr Shepherd was all gratitude. + +“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.” + +“Wentworth? Oh! ay, Mr Wentworth, the curate of Monkford. You misled me +by the term _gentleman_. 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.” + +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. + +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. + +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 _Mr._——; a _Mr._ (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. + +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. + +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 _he_, perhaps, may be walking +here.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +_He_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _his_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“There is hardly any personal defect,” replied Anne, “which an +agreeable manner might not gradually reconcile one to.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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— + +“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!” + +“I am sorry to find you unwell,” replied Anne. “You sent me such a good +account of yourself on Thursday!” + +“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.” + +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.” + +“You have had your little boys with you?” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“You will see them yet, perhaps, before the morning is gone. It is +early.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Dear me! what can _you_ possibly have to do?” + +“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.” + +“Oh! well!” and after a moment’s pause, “but you have never asked me +one word about our dinner at the Pooles yesterday.” + +“Did you go then? I have made no enquiries, because I concluded you +must have been obliged to give up the party.” + +“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.” + +“I am very glad you were well enough, and I hope you had a pleasant +party.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“Oh! but they ought to call upon you as soon as possible. They ought to +feel what is due to you as _my_ 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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +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 _we_ 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!” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +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.” + +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.” + +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 _you_, 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.” + +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 _you_, 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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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!” + +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!” + +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. + +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,— + +“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.” + +Anne hoped she had outlived the age of blushing; but the age of emotion +she certainly had not. + +“Perhaps you may not have heard that he is married?” added Mrs Croft. + +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. + +The rest was all tranquillity; till, just as they were moving, she +heard the Admiral say to Mary— + +“We are expecting a brother of Mrs Croft’s here soon; I dare say you +know him by name.” + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +To hear them talking so much of Captain Wentworth, repeating his name +so often, puzzling over past years, and at last ascertaining that it +_might_, that it probably _would_, 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. + +The resolution of doing so helped to form the comfort of their evening. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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?” + +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. + +“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.” + +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— + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“But, could you be comfortable yourself, to be spending the whole +evening away from the poor boy?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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— + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“It is over! it is over!” she repeated to herself again and again, in +nervous gratitude. “The worst is over!” + +Mary talked, but she could not attend. She had seen him. They had met. +They had been once more in the same room. + +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. + +Alas! with all her reasoning, she found, that to retentive feelings +eight years may be little more than nothing. + +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. + +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:— + +“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.’” + +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. + +“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. + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +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:— + +“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?” + +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. + +“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.” + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +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. + +Whether former feelings were to be renewed must be brought to the +proof; former times must undoubtedly be brought to the recollection of +each; _they_ 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 “_That_ was in the year six;” +“_That_ 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. + +They had no conversation together, no intercourse but what the +commonest civility required. Once so much to each other! Now nothing! +There _had_ 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. + +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. + +From thus listening and thinking, she was roused by a whisper of Mrs +Musgrove’s who, overcome by fond regrets, could not help saying— + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“Your first was the Asp, I remember; we will look for the Asp.” + +“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.” + +The girls looked all amazement. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +“It was at Gibraltar, mother, I know. Dick had been left ill at +Gibraltar, with a recommendation from his former captain to Captain +Wentworth.” + +“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.” + +Charles, being somewhat more mindful of the probabilities of the case, +only nodded in reply, and walked away. + +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. + +“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.” + +“And I am sure, Sir,” said Mrs Musgrove, “it was a lucky day for _us_, +when you were put captain into that ship. _We_ shall never forget what +you did.” + +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. + +“My brother,” whispered one of the girls; “mamma is thinking of poor +Richard.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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— + +“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.” + +“Should I? I am glad I was not a week later then.” + +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. + +“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 +_high_, 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.” + +This brought his sister upon him. + +“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.” + +“Nothing to the purpose,” replied her brother. “You were living with +your husband, and were the only woman on board.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“Depend upon it, they were all perfectly comfortable.” + +“I might not like them the better for that perhaps. Such a number of +women and children have no _right_ to be comfortable on board.” + +“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?” + +“My feelings, you see, did not prevent my taking Mrs Harville and all +her family to Plymouth.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Ay, that we shall.” + +“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.” + +He got up and moved away. + +“What a great traveller you must have been, ma’am!” said Mrs Musgrove +to Mrs Croft. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 (_Captain_ 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.” + +“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_ 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.” + +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. + +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? + +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. _Once_ 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 _once_ 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— + +“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. + +Anne did not wish for more of such looks and speeches. His cold +politeness, his ceremonious grace, were worse than anything. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _did_ seem to like him. + +Henrietta fully thought so herself, before Captain Wentworth came; but +from that time Cousin Charles had been very much forgotten. + +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 +_now_, whether the more gentle or the more lively character were most +likely to attract him. + +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 +_which_ 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. + +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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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 _principal_ 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.” + +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. + +“Now you are talking nonsense, Mary,” was therefore his answer. “It +would not be a _great_ 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.” + +“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 _her_, and still worse for _me;_ +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 _does_ 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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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 _must_ have a curate, and you had secured his promise. +Is he coming, Louisa?” + +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. + +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. + +“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. + +He continued at the window; and after calmly and politely saying, “I +hope the little boy is better,” was silent. + +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. + +She only attempted to say, “How do you do? Will you not sit down? The +others will be here presently.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“Walter,” said she, “get down this moment. You are extremely +troublesome. I am very angry with you.” + +“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.” + +But not a bit did Walter stir. + +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. + +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 _me_, 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. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _long_ 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. + +“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?” + +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. + +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 _pleasure_ 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:— + +“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.” + +“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.” + +It was spoken with enthusiasm. + +“Had you?” cried he, catching the same tone; “I honour you!” And there +was silence between them for a little while. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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— + +“It is very unpleasant, having such connexions! But, I assure you, I +have never been in the house above twice in my life.” + +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. + +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. + +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— + +“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!” + +“She would have turned back then, but for you?” + +“She would indeed. I am almost ashamed to say it.” + +“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 _yours_ 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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +After a moment’s pause, Captain Wentworth said— + +“Do you mean that she refused him?” + +“Oh! yes; certainly.” + +“When did that happen?” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“Miss Elliot, I am sure _you_ 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.” + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _last;_ 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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _Marmion_ or _The Lady of the Lake_ were to +be preferred, and how ranked the _Giaour_ and _The Bride of Abydos;_ +and moreover, how the _Giaour_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +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— + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“Ah!” cried Captain Wentworth, instantly, and with half a glance at +Anne, “it is the very man we passed.” + +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. + +“Pray,” said Captain Wentworth, immediately, “can you tell us the name +of the gentleman who is just gone away?” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Ay, true enough,” (with a deep sigh) “only June.” + +“And not known to him, perhaps, so soon.” + +“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!” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +“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. + +“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.” + +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— + +“Oh God! her father and mother!” + +“A surgeon!” said Anne. + +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— + +“Captain Benwick, would not it be better for Captain Benwick? He knows +where a surgeon is to be found.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“Anne, Anne,” cried Charles, “What is to be done next? What, in +heaven’s name, is to be done next?” + +Captain Wentworth’s eyes were also turned towards her. + +“Had not she better be carried to the inn? Yes, I am sure: carry her +gently to the inn.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Louisa’s limbs had escaped. There was no injury but to the head. + +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. + +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— + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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— + +“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!” + +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. + +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:— + +“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?” + +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. + +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. + +(End of volume one.) + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +Anne did not shrink from it; on the contrary, she truly felt as she +said, in observing— + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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— + +“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!” + +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. + +“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.” + +“Another time, Sir, I thank you, not now.” + +“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.” + +Anne, finding she might decline it, did so, very gratefully. + +“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.” + +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— + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Anne enquired after Captain Benwick. Mary’s face was clouded directly. +Charles laughed. + +“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.” + +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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“I must see Captain Benwick before I decide,” said Lady Russell, +smiling. + +“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.” + +“Any acquaintance of Anne’s will always be welcome to me,” was Lady +Russell’s kind answer. + +“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.” + +“Well, as your joint acquaintance, then, I shall be very happy to see +Captain Benwick.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +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.” + +“You will not like him, I will answer for it.” + +Lady Russell began talking of something else. Mary spoke with animation +of their meeting with, or rather missing, Mr Elliot so extraordinarily. + +“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.” + +This decision checked Mary’s eagerness, and stopped her short in the +midst of the Elliot countenance. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +She was put down in Camden Place; and Lady Russell then drove to her +own lodgings, in Rivers Street. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +“Oh! no, that must have been quite accidental. In general she has been +in very good health and very good looks since Michaelmas.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Anne could not have supposed it possible that her first evening in +Camden Place could have passed so well! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +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.” + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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, + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Well,” said Anne, “I certainly am proud, too proud to enjoy a welcome +which depends so entirely upon place.” + +“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.” + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +While Sir Walter and Elizabeth were assiduously pushing their good +fortune in Laura Place, Anne was renewing an acquaintance of a very +different description. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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 _au fait_ 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.” + +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.” + +“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.” + +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— + +“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.” + +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. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“But what does Lady Russell think of this acquaintance?” asked +Elizabeth. + +“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.” + +“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!” + +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 _her_ 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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“Mr Elliot is an exceedingly agreeable man, and in many respects I +think highly of him,” said Anne; “but we should not suit.” + +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!” + +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. + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +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. + +The Crofts must be in Bath! A circumstance to interest her. They were +people whom her heart turned to very naturally. + +“What is this?” cried Sir Walter. “The Crofts have arrived in Bath? The +Crofts who rent Kellynch? What have they brought you?” + +“A letter from Uppercross Cottage, Sir.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“February 1st. + + +“MY DEAR ANNE, + +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, + +“MARY M——. + +“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.” + + +So ended the first part, which had been afterwards put into an +envelope, containing nearly as much more. + +“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.” + +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. + +“How is Mary?” said Elizabeth; and without waiting for an answer, “And +pray what brings the Crofts to Bath?” + +“They come on the Admiral’s account. He is thought to be gouty.” + +“Gout and decrepitude!” said Sir Walter. “Poor old gentleman.” + +“Have they any acquaintance here?” asked Elizabeth. + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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?” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“Did you say that you had something to tell me, sir?” + +“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.” + +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— + +“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.” + +Anne had been ashamed to appear to comprehend so soon as she really +did; but now she could safely suggest the name of “Louisa.” + +“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.” + +“A little. I am a little acquainted with Captain Benwick.” + +“Well, she is to marry him. Nay, most likely they are married already, +for I do not know what they should wait for.” + +“I thought Captain Benwick a very pleasing young man,” said Anne, “and +I understand that he bears an excellent character.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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— + +“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.” + +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.” + +“Not at all, not at all; there is not an oath or a murmur from +beginning to end.” + +Anne looked down to hide her smile. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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?” + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“But it rains.” + +“Oh! very little. Nothing that I regard.” + +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.” + +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.” + +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. + +As soon as they were out of sight, the ladies of Captain Wentworth’s +party began talking of them. + +“Mr Elliot does not dislike his cousin, I fancy?” + +“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!” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“Oh! so do I.” + +“And so do I. No comparison. But the men are all wild after Miss +Elliot. Anne is too delicate for them.” + +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. + +She hoped to be wise and reasonable in time; but alas! alas! she must +confess to herself that she was not wise yet. + +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? + +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. + +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! + +At last, Lady Russell drew back her head. “Now, how would she speak of +him?” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“By all means,” said she; “only tell me all about it, when you do come. +Who is your party?” + +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.” + +Anne was startled and confused; but after standing in a moment’s +suspense, was obliged, and not sorry to be obliged, to hurry away. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +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. + +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. + +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— + +“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.” + +She assured him that she had not. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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—” + +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— + +“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.” + +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— + +“You were a good while at Lyme, I think?” + +“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.” + +“I should very much like to see Lyme again,” said Anne. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“I will not oppose such kind politeness; but I should be sorry to be +examined by a real proficient.” + +“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.” + +“For shame! for shame! this is too much flattery. I forget what we are +to have next,” turning to the bill. + +“Perhaps,” said Mr Elliot, speaking low, “I have had a longer +acquaintance with your character than you are aware of.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“A well-looking man,” said Sir Walter, “a very well-looking man.” + +“A very fine young man indeed!” said Lady Dalrymple. “More air than one +often sees in Bath. Irish, I dare say.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +Mr Elliot’s speech, too, distressed her. She had no longer any +inclination to talk to him. She wished him not so near her. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +“Is not this song worth staying for?” said Anne, suddenly struck by an +idea which made her yet more anxious to be encouraging. + +“No!” he replied impressively, “there is nothing worth my staying for;” +and he was gone directly. + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“Yes; I did not see them myself, but I heard Mr Elliot say they were in +the room.” + +“The Ibbotsons, were they there? and the two new beauties, with the +tall Irish officer, who is talked of for one of them.” + +“I do not know. I do not think they were.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +Anne half smiled and said, “Do you see that in my eye?” + +“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.” + +A blush overspread Anne’s cheeks. She could say nothing. + +“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.” + +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— + +“Pray,” said Mrs Smith, “is Mr Elliot aware of your acquaintance with +me? Does he know that I am in Bath?” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +Mrs Smith gave her a penetrating glance, and then, smiling, said— + +“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.” + +“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?” + +Mrs Smith looked at her again, looked earnestly, smiled, shook her +head, and exclaimed— + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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—” + +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. + +“Do tell me how it first came into your head.” + +“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.” + +“And has it indeed been spoken of?” + +“Did you observe the woman who opened the door to you when you called +yesterday?” + +“No. Was not it Mrs Speed, as usual, or the maid? I observed no one in +particular.” + +“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.” “The whole history,” +repeated Anne, laughing. “She could not make a very long history, I +think, of one such little article of unfounded news.” + +Mrs Smith said nothing. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“I think you spoke of having known Mr Elliot many years?” + +“I did.” + +“Not before he was married, I suppose?” + +“Yes; he was not married when I knew him first.” + +“And—were you much acquainted?” + +“Intimately.” + +“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?” + +“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— + +“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!” + +Anne’s astonished air, and exclamation of wonder, made her pause, and +in a calmer manner, she added, + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“Perhaps,” cried Anne, struck by a sudden idea, “you sometimes spoke of +me to Mr Elliot?” + +“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—” + +She checked herself just in time. + +“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.” + +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.” + +“But was not she a very low woman?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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— + +“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.” + +This was the letter, directed to “Charles Smith, Esq. Tunbridge Wells,” +and dated from London, as far back as July, 1803:— + + +“Dear Smith, + +“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. + +“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, + +“WM. ELLIOT.” + + +Such a letter could not be read without putting Anne in a glow; and Mrs +Smith, observing the high colour in her face, said— + +“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?” + +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— + +“Thank you. This is full proof undoubtedly; proof of every thing you +were saying. But why be acquainted with us now?” + +“I can explain this too,” cried Mrs Smith, smiling. + +“Can you really?” + +“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.” + +“Colonel Wallis! you are acquainted with him?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“I know you did; I know it all perfectly, but—” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“He certainly did. So far it is very true. At Lyme. I happened to be at +Lyme.” + +“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.” + +Here Mrs Smith paused a moment; but Anne had not a word to say, and she +continued— + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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!” + +“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.” + +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? + +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. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“My dear Miss Elliot!” exclaimed Mrs Clay, lifting her hands and eyes, +and sinking all the rest of her astonishment in a convenient silence. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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 _arrangé_ in her air! and she sits so +upright! My best love, of course.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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?” + +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.” + +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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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— + +“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?” + +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— + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“Oh! Charles, I declare it will be too abominable if you do, when you +promised to go.” + +“No, I did not promise. I only smirked and bowed, and said the word +‘happy.’ There was no promise.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +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. + +“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.” + +Anne felt truly obliged to her for such kindness; and quite as much so +for the opportunity it gave her of decidedly saying— + +“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. + +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. + +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. + +“You have not been long enough in Bath,” said he, “to enjoy the evening +parties of the place.” + +“Oh! no. The usual character of them has nothing for me. I am no +card-player.” + +“You were not formerly, I know. You did not use to like cards; but time +makes many changes.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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! + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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:— + +“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.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +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. + +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— + +“We will write the letter we were talking of, Harville, now, if you +will give me materials.” + +Materials were at hand, on a separate table; he went to it, and nearly +turning his back to them all, was engrossed by writing. + +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. + +“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.” + +“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—” + +“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—” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“Look here,” said he, unfolding a parcel in his hand, and displaying a +small miniature painting, “do you know who that is?” + +“Certainly: Captain Benwick.” + +“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!” + +“No,” replied Anne, in a low, feeling voice. “That I can easily +believe.” + +“It was not in her nature. She doted on him.” + +“It would not be the nature of any woman who truly loved.” + +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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“Have you finished your letter?” said Captain Harville. + +“Not quite, a few lines more. I shall have done in five minutes.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“But how shall we prove anything?” + +“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.” + +“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. + +“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.” + +She could not immediately have uttered another sentence; her heart was +too full, her breath too much oppressed. + +“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.” + +Their attention was called towards the others. Mrs Croft was taking +leave. + +“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?” + +Captain Wentworth was folding up a letter in great haste, and either +could not or would not answer fully. + +“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.” + +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! + +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! + +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: + +“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 + + +F. W. + + +“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.” + + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +Anxious to omit no possible precaution, Anne struggled, and said— + +“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.” + +“Oh! my dear, it is quite understood, I give you my word. Captain +Harville has no thought but of going.” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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— + +“Captain Wentworth, which way are you going? Only to Gay Street, or +farther up the town?” + +“I hardly know,” replied Captain Wentworth, surprised. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +“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?’” + +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. + +“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?” + +“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.” + +“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.” + +“I should have thought,” said Anne, “that my manner to yourself might +have spared you much or all of this.” + +“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.” + +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. + +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. + +It was in one of these short meetings, each apparently occupied in +admiring a fine display of greenhouse plants, that she said— + +“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.” + +He looked at her, looked at Lady Russell, and looking again at her, +replied, as if in cool deliberation— + +“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?” + +“Would I!” was all her answer; but the accent was decisive enough. + +“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.” + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +Finis + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PERSUASION *** + +***** This file should be named 105-0.txt or 105-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/105/ + +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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