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-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. â��œWhen 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
-
-
-
-
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