Persuasion 2

Persuasion
By Jane Austen (1818)

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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 con-
templating 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 his-
tory 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 add-
Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 3

ing, for the information of himself and his family, these His good looks and his rank had one fair claim on his at-
words, after the date of Mary’s birth— ‘Married, December tachment; since to them he must have owed a wife of very
16, 1810, Charles, son and heir of Charles Musgrove, Esq. superior character to any thing deserved by his own. Lady
of Uppercross, in the county of Somerset,’ and by inserting Elliot had been an excellent woman, sensible and amiable;
most accurately the day of the month on which he had lost whose judgement and conduct, if they might be pardoned
his wife. the youthful infatuation which made her Lady Elliot, had
Then followed the history and rise of the ancient and re- never required indulgence afterwards.—She had humoured,
spectable family, in the usual terms; how it had been first or softened, or concealed his failings, and promoted his real
settled in Cheshire; how mentioned in Dugdale, serving respectability for seventeen years; and though not the very
the office of high sheriff, representing a borough in three happiest being in the world herself, had found enough in
successive parliaments, exertions of loyalty, and dignity of her duties, her friends, and her children, to attach her to
baronet, in the first year of Charles II, with all the Marys life, and make it no matter of indifference to her when she
and Elizabeths they had married; forming altogether two was called on to quit them. —Three girls, the two eldest
handsome duodecimo pages, and concluding with the arms sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother to
and motto:—‘Principal seat, Kellynch Hall, in the county bequeath, an awful charge rather, to confide to the authority
of Somerset,’ and Sir Walter’s handwriting again in this and guidance of a conceited, silly father. She had, however,
finale:— one very intimate friend, a sensible, deserving woman, who
‘Heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., great had been brought, by strong attachment to herself, to settle
grandson of the second Sir Walter.’ close by her, in the village of Kellynch; and on her kindness
Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter El- and advice, Lady Elliot mainly relied for the best help and
liot’s character; vanity of person and of situation. He had maintenance of the good principles and instruction which
been remarkably handsome in his youth; and, at fifty-four, she had been anxiously giving her daughters.
was still a very fine man. Few women could think more of This friend, and Sir Walter, did not marry, whatever
their personal appearance than he did, nor could the valet might have been anticipated on that head by their acquain-
of any new made lord be more delighted with the place he tance. Thirteen years had passed away since Lady Elliot’s
held in society. He considered the blessing of beauty as in- death, and they were still near neighbours and intimate
ferior only to the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter friends, and one remained a widower, the other a widow.
Elliot, who united these gifts, was the constant object of his That Lady Russell, of steady age and character, and ex-
warmest respect and devotion. tremely well provided for, should have no thought of a
4 Persuasion Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 5

second marriage, needs no apology to the public, which is from his own), there could be nothing in them, now that
rather apt to be unreasonably discontented when a woman she was faded and thin, to excite his esteem. He had never
does marry again, than when she does not; but Sir Walter’s indulged much hope, he had now none, of ever reading her
continuing in singleness requires explanation. Be it known name in any other page of his favourite work. All equality of
then, that Sir Walter, like a good father, (having met with alliance must rest with Elizabeth, for Mary had merely con-
one or two private disappointments in very unreasonable nected herself with an old country family of respectability
applications), prided himself on remaining single for his and large fortune, and had therefore given all the honour
dear daughters’ sake. For one daughter, his eldest, he would and received none: Elizabeth would, one day or other, mar-
really have given up any thing, which he had not been very ry suitably.
much tempted to do. Elizabeth had succeeded, at sixteen, It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at
to all that was possible, of her mother’s rights and conse- twenty-nine than she was ten years before; and, generally
quence; and being very handsome, and very like himself, speaking, if there has been neither ill health nor anxiety, it
her influence had always been great, and they had gone on is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost. It was so
together most happily. His two other children were of very with Elizabeth, still the same handsome Miss Elliot that she
inferior value. Mary had acquired a little artificial impor- had begun to be thirteen years ago, and Sir Walter might
tance, by becoming Mrs Charles Musgrove; but Anne, with be excused, therefore, in forgetting her age, or, at least, be
an elegance of mind and sweetness of character, which must deemed only half a fool, for thinking himself and Elizabeth
have placed her high with any people of real understand- as blooming as ever, amidst the wreck of the good looks of
ing, was nobody with either father or sister; her word had everybody else; for he could plainly see how old all the rest of
no weight, her convenience was always to give way— she his family and acquaintance were growing. Anne haggard,
was only Anne. Mary coarse, every face in the neighbourhood worsting,
To Lady Russell, indeed, she was a most dear and high- and the rapid increase of the crow’s foot about Lady Rus-
ly valued god-daughter, favourite, and friend. Lady Russell sell’s temples had long been a distress to him.
loved them all; but it was only in Anne that she could fancy Elizabeth did not quite equal her father in personal con-
the mother to revive again. tentment. Thirteen years had seen her mistress of Kellynch
A few years before, Anne Elliot had been a very pretty Hall, presiding and directing with a self-possession and de-
girl, but her bloom had vanished early; and as even in its cision which could never have given the idea of her being
height, her father had found little to admire in her, (so to- younger than she was. For thirteen years had she been do-
tally different were her delicate features and mild dark eyes ing the honours, and laying down the domestic law at home,

and leading the way to the chaise and four, and walking im- them as a boy; but soon after Lady Elliot’s death, Sir Wal-
mediately after Lady Russell out of all the drawing-rooms ter had sought the acquaintance, and though his overtures
and dining-rooms in the country. Thirteen winters’ revolv- had not been met with any warmth, he had persevered in
ing frosts had seen her opening every ball of credit which a seeking it, making allowance for the modest drawing-back
scanty neighbourhood afforded, and thirteen springs shewn of youth; and, in one of their spring excursions to London,
their blossoms, as she travelled up to London with her fa- when Elizabeth was in her first bloom, Mr Elliot had been
ther, for a few weeks’ annual enjoyment of the great world. forced into the introduction.
She had the remembrance of all this, she had the conscious- He was at that time a very young man, just engaged in
ness of being nine-and-twenty to give her some regrets and the study of the law; and Elizabeth found him extremely
some apprehensions; she was fully satisfied of being still agreeable, and every plan in his favour was confirmed. He
quite as handsome as ever, but she felt her approach to the was invited to Kellynch Hall; he was talked of and expected
years of danger, and would have rejoiced to be certain of all the rest of the year; but he never came. The following
being properly solicited by baronet-blood within the next spring he was seen again in town, found equally agreeable,
twelvemonth or two. Then might she again take up the book again encouraged, invited, and expected, and again he did
of books with as much enjoyment as in her early youth, but not come; and the next tidings were that he was married.
now she liked it not. Always to be presented with the date Instead of pushing his fortune in the line marked out for the
of her own birth and see no marriage follow but that of a heir of the house of Elliot, he had purchased independence
youngest sister, made the book an evil; and more than once, by uniting himself to a rich woman of inferior birth.
when her father had left it open on the table near her, had Sir Walter has resented it. As the head of the house, he felt
she closed it, with averted eyes, and pushed it away. that he ought to have been consulted, especially after taking
She had had a disappointment, moreover, which that the young man so publicly by the hand; ‘For they must have
book, and especially the history of her own family, must been seen together,’ he observed, ‘once at Tattersall’s, and
ever present the remembrance of. The heir presumptive, the twice in the lobby of the House of Commons.’ His disappro-
very William Walter Elliot, Esq., whose rights had been so bation was expressed, but apparently very little regarded.
generously supported by her father, had disappointed her. Mr Elliot had attempted no apology, and shewn himself as
She had, while a very young girl, as soon as she had unsolicitous of being longer noticed by the family, as Sir
known him to be, in the event of her having no brother, Walter considered him unworthy of it: all acquaintance be-
the future baronet, meant to marry him, and her father had tween them had ceased.
always meant that she should. He had not been known to This very awkward history of Mr Elliot was still, after an

interval of several years, felt with anger by Elizabeth, who from his thoughts. The Kellynch property was good, but
had liked the man for himself, and still more for being her not equal to Sir Walter’s apprehension of the state required
father’s heir, and whose strong family pride could see only in its possessor. While Lady Elliot lived, there had been
in him a proper match for Sir Walter Elliot’s eldest daugh- method, moderation, and economy, which had just kept
ter. There was not a baronet from A to Z whom her feelings him within his income; but with her had died all such right-
could have so willingly acknowledged as an equal. Yet so mindedness, and from that period he had been constantly
miserably had he conducted himself, that though she was exceeding it. It had not been possible for him to spend less;
at this present time (the summer of 1814) wearing black he had done nothing but what Sir Walter Elliot was impe-
ribbons for his wife, she could not admit him to be worth riously called on to do; but blameless as he was, he was not
thinking of again. The disgrace of his first marriage might, only growing dreadfully in debt, but was hearing of it so
perhaps, as there was no reason to suppose it perpetuated often, that it became vain to attempt concealing it longer,
by offspring, have been got over, had he not done worse; but even partially, from his daughter. He had given her some
he had, as by the accustomary intervention of kind friends, hints of it the last spring in town; he had gone so far even
they had been informed, spoken most disrespectfully of as to say, ‘Can we retrench? Does it occur to you that there
them all, most slightingly and contemptuously of the very is any one article in which we can retrench?’ and Elizabeth,
blood he belonged to, and the honours which were hereafter to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm,
to be his own. This could not be pardoned. set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally
Such were Elizabeth Elliot’s sentiments and sensations; proposed these two branches of economy, to cut off some
such the cares to alloy, the agitations to vary, the sameness unnecessary charities, and to refrain from new furnishing
and the elegance, the prosperity and the nothingness of her the drawing-room; to which expedients she afterwards add-
scene of life; such the feelings to give interest to a long, un- ed the happy thought of their taking no present down to
eventful residence in one country circle, to fill the vacancies Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom. But these mea-
which there were no habits of utility abroad, no talents or sures, however good in themselves, were insufficient for the
accomplishments for home, to occupy. real extent of the evil, the whole of which Sir Walter found
But now, another occupation and solicitude of mind was himself obliged to confess to her soon afterwards. Elizabeth
beginning to be added to these. Her father was growing dis- had nothing to propose of deeper efficacy. She felt herself
tressed for money. She knew, that when he now took up the ill-used and unfortunate, as did her father; and they were
Baronetage, it was to drive the heavy bills of his tradespeo- neither of them able to devise any means of lessening their
ple, and the unwelcome hints of Mr Shepherd, his agent, expenses without compromising their dignity, or relin-

quishing their comforts in a way not to be borne.
There was only a small part of his estate that Sir Walter Chapter 2
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 Mr Shepherd, a civil, cautious lawyer, who, whatever
Kellynch estate should be transmitted whole and entire, as might be his hold or his views on Sir Walter, would rather
he had received it. have the disagreeable prompted by anybody else, excused
Their two confidential friends, Mr Shepherd, who lived himself from offering the slightest hint, and only begged
in the neighbouring market town, and Lady Russell, were leave to recommend an implicit reference to the excellent
called to advise them; and both father and daughter seemed judgement of Lady Russell, from whose known good sense
to expect that something should be struck out by one or the he fully expected to have just such resolute measures ad-
other to remove their embarrassments and reduce their ex- vised as he meant to see finally adopted.
penditure, without involving the loss of any indulgence of Lady Russell was most anxiously zealous on the subject,
taste or pride. 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 integ-
rity 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 he be doing, in fact, but what very many of our first families
knight, she gave the dignity of a baronet all its due; and Sir have done, or ought to do? There will be nothing singular in
Walter, independent of his claims as an old acquaintance, his case; and it is singularity which often makes the worst
an attentive neighbour, an obliging landlord, the husband of part of our suffering, as it always does of our conduct. I have
her very dear friend, the father of Anne and her sisters, was, great hope of prevailing. We must be serious and decided;
as being Sir Walter, in her apprehension, entitled to a great for after all, the person who has contracted debts must pay
deal of compassion and consideration under his present dif- them; and though a great deal is due to the feelings of the
ficulties. gentleman, and the head of a house, like your father, there is
They must retrench; that did not admit of a doubt. But still more due to the character of an honest man.’
she was very anxious to have it done with the least possible This was the principle on which Anne wanted her father
pain to him and Elizabeth. She drew up plans of economy, to be proceeding, his friends to be urging him. She consid-
she made exact calculations, and she did what nobody else ered it as an act of indispensable duty to clear away the claims
thought of doing: she consulted Anne, who never seemed of creditors with all the expedition which the most compre-
considered by the others as having any interest in the ques- hensive retrenchments could secure, and saw no dignity in
tion. She consulted, and in a degree was influenced by her in anything short of it. She wanted it to be prescribed, and felt
marking out the scheme of retrenchment which was at last as a duty. She rated Lady Russell’s influence highly; and as
submitted to Sir Walter. Every emendation of Anne’s had to the severe degree of self-denial which her own conscience
been on the side of honesty against importance. She want- prompted, she believed there might be little more difficulty
ed more vigorous measures, a more complete reformation, in persuading them to a complete, than to half a reforma-
a quicker release from debt, a much higher tone of indiffer- tion. Her knowledge of her father and Elizabeth inclined
ence for everything but justice and equity. her to think that the sacrifice of one pair of horses would
‘If we can persuade your father to all this,’ said Lady Rus- be hardly less painful than of both, and so on, through the
sell, looking over her paper, ‘much may be done. If he will whole list of Lady Russell’s too gentle reductions.
adopt these regulations, in seven years he will be clear; and How Anne’s more rigid requisitions might have been tak-
I hope we may be able to convince him and Elizabeth, that en is of little consequence. Lady Russell’s had no success at
Kellynch Hall has a respectability in itself which cannot be all: could not be put up with, were not to be borne. ‘What!
affected by these reductions; and that the true dignity of Sir every comfort of life knocked off! Journeys, London, ser-
Walter Elliot will be very far from lessened in the eyes of vants, horses, table— contractions and restrictions every
sensible people, by acting like a man of principle. What will where! To live no longer with the decencies even of a private

gentleman! No, he would sooner quit Kellynch Hall at once, Sir Walter had at first thought more of London; but Mr
than remain in it on such disgraceful terms.’ Shepherd felt that he could not be trusted in London, and
‘Quit Kellynch Hall.’ The hint was immediately taken up had been skilful enough to dissuade him from it, and make
by Mr Shepherd, whose interest was involved in the reality Bath preferred. It was a much safer place for a gentleman in
of Sir Walter’s retrenching, and who was perfectly persuad- his predicament: he might there be important at compara-
ed that nothing would be done without a change of abode. tively little expense. Two material advantages of Bath over
‘Since the idea had been started in the very quarter which London had of course been given all their weight: its more
ought to dictate, he had no scruple,’ he said, ‘in confessing convenient distance from Kellynch, only fifty miles, and
his judgement to be entirely on that side. It did not appear to Lady Russell’s spending some part of every winter there;
him that Sir Walter could materially alter his style of living and to the very great satisfaction of Lady Russell, whose first
in a house which had such a character of hospitality and an- views on the projected change had been for Bath, Sir Walter
cient dignity to support. In any other place Sir Walter might and Elizabeth were induced to believe that they should lose
judge for himself; and would be looked up to, as regulating neither consequence nor enjoyment by settling there.
the modes of life in whatever way he might choose to model Lady Russell felt obliged to oppose her dear Anne’s
his household.’ known wishes. It would be too much to expect Sir Walter to
Sir Walter would quit Kellynch Hall; and after a very few descend into a small house in his own neighbourhood. Anne
days more of doubt and indecision, the great question of herself would have found the mortifications of it more than
whither he should go was settled, and the first outline of this she foresaw, and to Sir Walter’s feelings they must have been
important change made out. dreadful. And with regard to Anne’s dislike of Bath, she con-
There had been three alternatives, London, Bath, or an- sidered it as a prejudice and mistake arising, first, from the
other house in the country. All Anne’s wishes had been circumstance of her having been three years at school there,
for the latter. A small house in their own neighbourhood, after her mother’s death; and secondly, from her happening
where they might still have Lady Russell’s society, still be to be not in perfectly good spirits the only winter which she
near Mary, and still have the pleasure of sometimes seeing had afterwards spent there with herself.
the lawns and groves of Kellynch, was the object of her am- Lady Russell was fond of Bath, in short, and disposed
bition. But the usual fate of Anne attended her, in having to think it must suit them all; and as to her young friend’s
something very opposite from her inclination fixed on. She health, by passing all the warm months with her at Kellynch
disliked Bath, and did not think it agreed with her; and Bath Lodge, every danger would be avoided; and it was in fact, a
was to be her home. change which must do both health and spirits good. Anne

had been too little from home, too little seen. Her spirits understood the art of pleasing—the art of pleasing, at least,
were not high. A larger society would improve them. She at Kellynch Hall; and who had made herself so acceptable
wanted her to be more known. to Miss Elliot, as to have been already staying there more
The undesirableness of any other house in the same than once, in spite of all that Lady Russell, who thought it a
neighbourhood for Sir Walter was certainly much strength- friendship quite out of place, could hint of caution and re-
ened by one part, and a very material part of the scheme, serve.
which had been happily engrafted on the beginning. He was Lady Russell, indeed, had scarcely any influence with
not only to quit his home, but to see it in the hands of others; Elizabeth, and seemed to love her, rather because she would
a trial of fortitude, which stronger heads than Sir Walter’s love her, than because Elizabeth deserved it. She had never
have found too much. Kellynch Hall was to be let. This, how- received from her more than outward attention, nothing be-
ever, was a profound secret, not to be breathed beyond their yond the observances of complaisance; had never succeeded
own circle. in any point which she wanted to carry, against previous in-
Sir Walter could not have borne the degradation of being clination. She had been repeatedly very earnest in trying to
known to design letting his house. Mr Shepherd had once get Anne included in the visit to London, sensibly open to
mentioned the word ‘advertise,’ but never dared approach all the injustice and all the discredit of the selfish arrange-
it again. Sir Walter spurned the idea of its being offered in ments which shut her out, and on many lesser occasions had
any manner; forbad the slightest hint being dropped of his endeavoured to give Elizabeth the advantage of her own bet-
having such an intention; and it was only on the supposition ter judgement and experience; but always in vain: Elizabeth
of his being spontaneously solicited by some most unexcep- would go her own way; and never had she pursued it in more
tionable applicant, on his own terms, and as a great favour, decided opposition to Lady Russell than in this selection of
that he would let it at all. Mrs Clay; turning from the society of so deserving a sister,
How quick come the reasons for approving what we like! to bestow her affection and confidence on one who ought to
Lady Russell had another excellent one at hand, for being have been nothing to her but the object of distant civility.
extremely glad that Sir Walter and his family were to remove From situation, Mrs Clay was, in Lady Russell’s estimate,
from the country. Elizabeth had been lately forming an in- a very unequal, and in her character she believed a very dan-
timacy, which she wished to see interrupted. It was with the gerous companion; and a removal that would leave Mrs Clay
daughter of Mr Shepherd, who had returned, after an unpros- behind, and bring a choice of more suitable intimates within
perous marriage, to her father’s house, with the additional Miss Elliot’s reach, was therefore an object of first-rate im-
burden of two children. She was a clever young woman, who portance.

Chapter 3 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
‘I must take leave to observe, Sir Walter,’ said Mr Shepherd venture upon, that it will not greatly surprise me if, with all
one morning at Kellynch Hall, as he laid down the newspa- our caution, some rumour of the truth should get abroad;
per, ‘that the present juncture is much in our favour. This in the supposition of which, as I was going to observe, since
peace will be turning all our rich naval officers ashore. They applications will unquestionably follow, I should think any
will be all wanting a home. Could not be a better time, Sir from our wealthy naval commanders particularly worth at-
Walter, for having a choice of tenants, very responsible ten- tending to; and beg leave to add, that two hours will bring
ants. Many a noble fortune has been made during the war. me over at any time, to save you the trouble of replying.’
If a rich admiral were to come in our way, Sir Walter—‘ Sir Walter only nodded. But soon afterwards, rising and
‘He would be a very lucky man, Shepherd,’ replied Sir pacing the room, he observed sarcastically—
Walter; ‘that’s all I have to remark. A prize indeed would ‘There are few among the gentlemen of the navy, I imag-
Kellynch Hall be to him; rather the greatest prize of all, let ine, who would not be surprised to find themselves in a
him have taken ever so many before; hey, Shepherd?’ house of this description.’
Mr Shepherd laughed, as he knew he must, at this wit, ‘They would look around them, no doubt, and bless their
and then added— good fortune,’ said Mrs Clay, for Mrs Clay was present: her
‘I presume to observe, Sir Walter, that, in the way of busi- father had driven her over, nothing being of so much use to
ness, gentlemen of the navy are well to deal with. I have had Mrs Clay’s health as a drive to Kellynch: ‘but I quite agree
a little knowledge of their methods of doing business; and I with my father in thinking a sailor might be a very desir-
am free to confess that they have very liberal notions, and are able tenant. I have known a good deal of the profession; and
as likely to make desirable tenants as any set of people one besides their liberality, they are so neat and careful in all
should meet with. Therefore, Sir Walter, what I would take their ways! These valuable pictures of yours, Sir Walter, if
leave to suggest is, that if in consequence of any rumours you chose to leave them, would be perfectly safe. Everything
getting abroad of your intention; which must be contem- in and about the house would be taken such excellent care
plated as a possible thing, because we know how difficult it of! The gardens and shrubberies would be kept in almost as
is to keep the actions and designs of one part of the world high order as they are now. You need not be afraid, Miss El-

liot, of your own sweet flower gardens being neglected.’ was Mr Shepherd’s rejoinder, and ‘Oh! certainly,’ was his
‘As to all that,’ rejoined Sir Walter coolly, ‘supposing I daughter’s; but Sir Walter’s remark was, soon afterwards—
were induced to let my house, I have by no means made up ‘The profession has its utility, but I should be sorry to see
my mind as to the privileges to be annexed to it. I am not any friend of mine belonging to it.’
particularly disposed to favour a tenant. The park would ‘Indeed!’ was the reply, and with a look of surprise.
be open to him of course, and few navy officers, or men of ‘Yes; it is in two points offensive to me; I have two strong
any other description, can have had such a range; but what grounds of objection to it. First, as being the means of
restrictions I might impose on the use of the pleasure- bringing persons of obscure birth into undue distinction,
grounds, is another thing. I am not fond of the idea of my and raising men to honours which their fathers and grand-
shrubberies being always approachable; and I should rec- fathers never dreamt of; and secondly, as it cuts up a man’s
ommend Miss Elliot to be on her guard with respect to her youth and vigour most horribly; a sailor grows old sooner
flower garden. I am very little disposed to grant a tenant of than any other man. I have observed it all my life. A man is
Kellynch Hall any extraordinary favour, I assure you, be he in greater danger in the navy of being insulted by the rise of
sailor or soldier.’ one whose father, his father might have disdained to speak
After a short pause, Mr Shepherd presumed to say— to, and of becoming prematurely an object of disgust him-
‘In all these cases, there are established usages which self, than in any other line. One day last spring, in town, I
make everything plain and easy between landlord and was in company with two men, striking instances of what
tenant. Your interest, Sir Walter, is in pretty safe hands. De- I am talking of; Lord St Ives, whose father we all know to
pend upon me for taking care that no tenant has more than have been a country curate, without bread to eat; I was to
his just rights. I venture to hint, that Sir Walter Elliot can- give place to Lord St Ives, and a certain Admiral Baldwin,
not be half so jealous for his own, as John Shepherd will be the most deplorable-looking personage you can imagine; his
for him.’ face the colour of mahogany, rough and rugged to the last
Here Anne spoke— degree; all lines and wrinkles, nine grey hairs of a side, and
‘The navy, I think, who have done so much for us, have nothing but a dab of powder at top. ‘In the name of heaven,
at least an equal claim with any other set of men, for all the who is that old fellow?’ said I to a friend of mine who was
comforts and all the privileges which any home can give. standing near, (Sir Basil Morley). ‘Old fellow!’ cried Sir Ba-
Sailors work hard enough for their comforts, we must all sil, ‘it is Admiral Baldwin. What do you take his age to be?’
allow.’ ‘Sixty,’ said I, ‘or perhaps sixty-two.’ ‘Forty,’ replied Sir Basil,
‘Very true, very true. What Miss Anne says, is very true,’ ‘forty, and no more.’ Picture to yourselves my amazement;

I shall not easily forget Admiral Baldwin. I never saw quite ance to the utmost: I know no other set of men but what
so wretched an example of what a sea-faring life can do; but lose something of their personableness when they cease to
to a degree, I know it is the same with them all: they are be quite young.’
all knocked about, and exposed to every climate, and every It seemed as if Mr Shepherd, in this anxiety to bespeak
weather, till they are not fit to be seen. It is a pity they are Sir Walter’s good will towards a naval officer as tenant, had
not knocked on the head at once, before they reach Admiral been gifted with foresight; for the very first application for
Baldwin’s age.’ the house was from an Admiral Croft, with whom he short-
‘Nay, Sir Walter,’ cried Mrs Clay, ‘this is being severe in- ly afterwards fell into company in attending the quarter
deed. Have a little mercy on the poor men. We are not all sessions at Taunton; and indeed, he had received a hint of
born to be handsome. The sea is no beautifier, certainly; the Admiral from a London correspondent. By the report
sailors do grow old betimes; I have observed it; they soon which he hastened over to Kellynch to make, Admiral Croft
lose the look of youth. But then, is not it the same with many was a native of Somersetshire, who having acquired a very
other professions, perhaps most other? Soldiers, in active handsome fortune, was wishing to settle in his own coun-
service, are not at all better off: and even in the quieter pro- try, and had come down to Taunton in order to look at some
fessions, there is a toil and a labour of the mind, if not of the advertised places in that immediate neighbourhood, which,
body, which seldom leaves a man’s looks to the natural effect however, had not suited him; that accidentally hearing—
of time. The lawyer plods, quite care-worn; the physician is (it was just as he had foretold, Mr Shepherd observed, Sir
up at all hours, and travelling in all weather; and even the Walter’s concerns could not be kept a secret,)— accidentally
clergyman—‘ she stopt a moment to consider what might hearing of the possibility of Kellynch Hall being to let, and
do for the clergyman;—‘and even the clergyman, you know understanding his (Mr Shepherd’s) connection with the
is obliged to go into infected rooms, and expose his health owner, he had introduced himself to him in order to make
and looks to all the injury of a poisonous atmosphere. In particular inquiries, and had, in the course of a pretty long
fact, as I have long been convinced, though every profes- conference, expressed as strong an inclination for the place
sion is necessary and honourable in its turn, it is only the as a man who knew it only by description could feel; and
lot of those who are not obliged to follow any, who can live given Mr Shepherd, in his explicit account of himself, every
in a regular way, in the country, choosing their own hours, proof of his being a most responsible, eligible tenant.
following their own pursuits, and living on their own prop- ‘And who is Admiral Croft?’ was Sir Walter’s cold suspi-
erty, without the torment of trying for more; it is only their cious inquiry.
lot, I say, to hold the blessings of health and a good appear- Mr Shepherd answered for his being of a gentleman’s

family, and mentioned a place; and Anne, after the little miral, and had been present almost all the time they were
pause which followed, added— talking the matter over.
‘He is a rear admiral of the white. He was in the Trafalgar ‘And a very well-spoken, genteel, shrewd lady, she seemed
action, and has been in the East Indies since; he was sta- to be,’ continued he; ‘asked more questions about the house,
tioned there, I believe, several years.’ and terms, and taxes, than the Admiral himself, and seemed
‘Then I take it for granted,’ observed Sir Walter, ‘that his more conversant with business; and moreover, Sir Walter, I
face is about as orange as the cuffs and capes of my livery.’ found she was not quite unconnected in this country, any
Mr Shepherd hastened to assure him, that Admiral Croft more than her husband; that is to say, she is sister to a gen-
was a very hale, hearty, well-looking man, a little weather- tleman who did live amongst us once; she told me so herself:
beaten, to be sure, but not much, and quite the gentleman in sister to the gentleman who lived a few years back at Monk-
all his notions and behaviour; not likely to make the small- ford. Bless me! what was his name? At this moment I cannot
est difficulty about terms, only wanted a comfortable home, recollect his name, though I have heard it so lately. Penelo-
and to get into it as soon as possible; knew he must pay for pe, my dear, can you help me to the name of the gentleman
his convenience; knew what rent a ready-furnished house who lived at Monkford: Mrs Croft’s brother?’
of that consequence might fetch; should not have been sur- But Mrs Clay was talking so eagerly with Miss Elliot,
prised if Sir Walter had asked more; had inquired about the that she did not hear the appeal.
manor; would be glad of the deputation, certainly, but made ‘I have no conception whom you can mean, Shepherd;
no great point of it; said he sometimes took out a gun, but I remember no gentleman resident at Monkford since the
never killed; quite the gentleman. time of old Governor Trent.’
Mr Shepherd was eloquent on the subject; pointing out ‘Bless me! how very odd! I shall forget my own name
all the circumstances of the Admiral’s family, which made soon, I suppose. A name that I am so very well acquainted
him peculiarly desirable as a tenant. He was a married man, with; knew the gentleman so well by sight; seen him a hun-
and without children; the very state to be wished for. A dred times; came to consult me once, I remember, about a
house was never taken good care of, Mr Shepherd observed, trespass of one of his neighbours; farmer’s man breaking
without a lady: he did not know, whether furniture might into his orchard; wall torn down; apples stolen; caught in
not be in danger of suffering as much where there was no the fact; and afterwards, contrary to my judgement, submit-
lady, as where there were many children. A lady, without a ted to an amicable compromise. Very odd indeed!’
family, was the very best preserver of furniture in the world. After waiting another moment—
He had seen Mrs Croft, too; she was at Taunton with the ad- ‘You mean Mr Wentworth, I suppose?’ said Anne.

Mr Shepherd was all gratitude. Taunton, and fix a day for the house being seen.
‘Wentworth was the very name! Mr Wentworth was Sir Walter was not very wise; but still he had experience
the very man. He had the curacy of Monkford, you know, enough of the world to feel, that a more unobjectionable
Sir Walter, some time back, for two or three years. Came tenant, in all essentials, than Admiral Croft bid fair to be,
there about the year —-5, I take it. You remember him, I could hardly offer. So far went his understanding; and his
am sure.’ vanity supplied a little additional soothing, in the Admiral’s
‘Wentworth? Oh! ay,—Mr Wentworth, the curate of situation in life, which was just high enough, and not too
Monkford. You misled me by the term gentleman. I thought high. ‘I have let my house to Admiral Croft,’ would sound
you were speaking of some man of property: Mr Wentworth extremely well; very much better than to any mere Mr—; a
was nobody, I remember; quite unconnected; nothing to do Mr (save, perhaps, some half dozen in the nation,) always
with the Strafford family. One wonders how the names of needs a note of explanation. An admiral speaks his own
many of our nobility become so common.’ consequence, and, at the same time, can never make a bar-
As Mr Shepherd perceived that this connexion of the onet look small. In all their dealings and intercourse, Sir
Crofts did them no service with Sir Walter, he mentioned Walter Elliot must ever have the precedence.
it no more; returning, with all his zeal, to dwell on the cir- Nothing could be done without a reference to Elizabeth:
cumstances more indisputably in their favour; their age, but her inclination was growing so strong for a removal,
and number, and fortune; the high idea they had formed that she was happy to have it fixed and expedited by a ten-
of Kellynch Hall, and extreme solicitude for the advantage ant at hand; and not a word to suspend decision was uttered
of renting it; making it appear as if they ranked nothing by her.
beyond the happiness of being the tenants of Sir Walter El- Mr Shepherd was completely empowered to act; and no
liot: an extraordinary taste, certainly, could they have been sooner had such an end been reached, than Anne, who had
supposed in the secret of Sir Walter’s estimate of the dues been a most attentive listener to the whole, left the room,
of a tenant. to seek the comfort of cool air for her flushed cheeks; and
It succeeded, however; and though Sir Walter must ever as she walked along a favourite grove, said, with a gentle
look with an evil eye on anyone intending to inhabit that sigh, ‘A few months more, and he, perhaps, may be walk-
house, and think them infinitely too well off in being per- ing here.’
mitted to rent it on the highest terms, he was talked into
allowing Mr Shepherd to proceed in the treaty, and autho-
rising him to wait on Admiral Croft, who still remained at

Chapter 4 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
He was not Mr Wentworth, the former curate of Monk- at nineteen in an engagement with a young man, who had
ford, however suspicious appearances may be, but a Captain nothing but himself to recommend him, and no hopes of
Frederick Wentworth, his brother, who being made com- attaining affluence, but in the chances of a most uncertain
mander in consequence of the action off St Domingo, and profession, and no connexions to secure even his farther rise
not immediately employed, had come into Somersetshire, in the profession, would be, indeed, a throwing away, which
in the summer of 1806; and having no parent living, found a she grieved to think of! Anne Elliot, so young; known to
home for half a year at Monkford. He was, at that time, a reso few, to be snatched off by a stranger without alliance or
markably fine young man, with a great deal of intelligence, fortune; or rather sunk by him into a state of most wear-
spirit, and brilliancy; and Anne an extremely pretty girl, ing, anxious, youth-killing dependence! It must not be, if by
with gentleness, modesty, taste, and feeling. Half the sum any fair interference of friendship, any representations from
of attraction, on either side, might have been enough, for he one who had almost a mother’s love, and mother’s rights, it
had nothing to do, and she had hardly anybody to love; but would be prevented.
the encounter of such lavish recommendations could not Captain Wentworth had no fortune. He had been lucky
fail. They were gradually acquainted, and when acquainted, in his profession; but spending freely, what had come freely,
rapidly and deeply in love. It would be difficult to say which had realized nothing. But he was confident that he should
had seen highest perfection in the other, or which had been soon be rich: full of life and ardour, he knew that he should
the happiest: she, in receiving his declarations and propos- soon have a ship, and soon be on a station that would lead to
als, or he in having them accepted. everything he wanted. He had always been lucky; he knew
A short period of exquisite felicity followed, and but a he should be so still. Such confidence, powerful in its own
short one. Troubles soon arose. Sir Walter, on being ap- warmth, and bewitching in the wit which often expressed
plied to, without actually withholding his consent, or it, must have been enough for Anne; but Lady Russell saw
saying it should never be, gave it all the negative of great it very differently. His sanguine temper, and fearlessness of
astonishment, great coldness, great silence, and a professed mind, operated very differently on her. She saw in it but an
resolution of doing nothing for his daughter. He thought it aggravation of the evil. It only added a dangerous character

to himself. He was brilliant, he was headstrong. Lady Rus- More than seven years were gone since this little his-
sell had little taste for wit, and of anything approaching to tory of sorrowful interest had reached its close; and time
imprudence a horror. She deprecated the connexion in ev- had softened down much, perhaps nearly all of peculiar at-
ery light. tachment to him, but she had been too dependent on time
Such opposition, as these feelings produced, was more alone; no aid had been given in change of place (except in
than Anne could combat. Young and gentle as she was, it one visit to Bath soon after the rupture), or in any novelty
might yet have been possible to withstand her father’s ill- or enlargement of society. No one had ever come within the
will, though unsoftened by one kind word or look on the Kellynch circle, who could bear a comparison with Fred-
part of her sister; but Lady Russell, whom she had always erick Wentworth, as he stood in her memory. No second
loved and relied on, could not, with such steadiness of opin- attachment, the only thoroughly natural, happy, and suffi-
ion, and such tenderness of manner, be continually advising cient cure, at her time of life, had been possible to the nice
her in vain. She was persuaded to believe the engagement a tone of her mind, the fastidiousness of her taste, in the small
wrong thing: indiscreet, improper, hardly capable of suc- limits of the society around them. She had been solicited,
cess, and not deserving it. But it was not a merely selfish when about two-and-twenty, to change her name, by the
caution, under which she acted, in putting an end to it. Had young man, who not long afterwards found a more willing
she not imagined herself consulting his good, even more mind in her younger sister; and Lady Russell had lamented
than her own, she could hardly have given him up. The be- her refusal; for Charles Musgrove was the eldest son of a
lief of being prudent, and self-denying, principally for his man, whose landed property and general importance were
advantage, was her chief consolation, under the misery of a second in that country, only to Sir Walter’s, and of good
parting, a final parting; and every consolation was required, character and appearance; and however Lady Russell might
for she had to encounter all the additional pain of opinions, have asked yet for something more, while Anne was nine-
on his side, totally unconvinced and unbending, and of his teen, she would have rejoiced to see her at twenty-two so
feeling himself ill used by so forced a relinquishment. He respectably removed from the partialities and injustice of
had left the country in consequence. her father’s house, and settled so permanently near herself.
A few months had seen the beginning and the end of But in this case, Anne had left nothing for advice to do; and
their acquaintance; but not with a few months ended Anne’s though Lady Russell, as satisfied as ever with her own dis-
share of suffering from it. Her attachment and regrets had, cretion, never wished the past undone, she began now to
for a long time, clouded every enjoyment of youth, and an have the anxiety which borders on hopelessness for Anne’s
early loss of bloom and spirits had been their lasting effect. being tempted, by some man of talents and independence,

to enter a state for which she held her to be peculiarly fitted for her authority, but she could not doubt his being rich;
by her warm affections and domestic habits. and, in favour of his constancy, she had no reason to believe
They knew not each other’s opinion, either its constancy him married.
or its change, on the one leading point of Anne’s conduct, How eloquent could Anne Elliot have been! how elo-
for the subject was never alluded to; but Anne, at seven- quent, at least, were her wishes on the side of early warm
and-twenty, thought very differently from what she had attachment, and a cheerful confidence in futurity, against
been made to think at nineteen. She did not blame Lady that over-anxious caution which seems to insult exertion
Russell, she did not blame herself for having been guided and distrust Providence! She had been forced into prudence
by her; but she felt that were any young person, in similar in her youth, she learned romance as she grew older: the
circumstances, to apply to her for counsel, they would never natural sequel of an unnatural beginning.
receive any of such certain immediate wretchedness, such With all these circumstances, recollections and feelings,
uncertain future good. She was persuaded that under every she could not hear that Captain Wentworth’s sister was
disadvantage of disapprobation at home, and every anxi- likely to live at Kellynch without a revival of former pain;
ety attending his profession, all their probable fears, delays, and many a stroll, and many a sigh, were necessary to dis-
and disappointments, she should yet have been a happier pel the agitation of the idea. She often told herself it was
woman in maintaining the engagement, than she had been folly, before she could harden her nerves sufficiently to feel
in the sacrifice of it; and this, she fully believed, had the the continual discussion of the Crofts and their business no
usual share, had even more than the usual share of all such evil. She was assisted, however, by that perfect indifference
solicitudes and suspense been theirs, without reference to and apparent unconsciousness, among the only three of her
the actual results of their case, which, as it happened, would own friends in the secret of the past, which seemed almost
have bestowed earlier prosperity than could be reasonably to deny any recollection of it. She could do justice to the su-
calculated on. All his sanguine expectations, all his confi- periority of Lady Russell’s motives in this, over those of her
dence had been justified. His genius and ardour had seemed father and Elizabeth; she could honour all the better feel-
to foresee and to command his prosperous path. He had, ings of her calmness; but the general air of oblivion among
very soon after their engagement ceased, got employ: and them was highly important from whatever it sprung; and in
all that he had told her would follow, had taken place. He the event of Admiral Croft’s really taking Kellynch Hall, she
had distinguished himself, and early gained the other step rejoiced anew over the conviction which had always been
in rank, and must now, by successive captures, have made a most grateful to her, of the past being known to those three
handsome fortune. She had only navy lists and newspapers only among her connexions, by whom no syllable, she be-

lieved, would ever be whispered, and in the trust that among
his, the brother only with whom he had been residing, had Chapter 5
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 On the morning appointed for Admiral and Mrs Croft’s
having heard of it from him. seeing Kellynch Hall, Anne found it most natural to take
The sister, Mrs Croft, had then been out of England, ac- her almost daily walk to Lady Russell’s, and keep out of the
companying her husband on a foreign station, and her own way till all was over; when she found it most natural to be
sister, Mary, had been at school while it all occurred; and sorry that she had missed the opportunity of seeing them.
never admitted by the pride of some, and the delicacy of This meeting of the two parties proved highly satisfac-
others, to the smallest knowledge of it afterwards. tory, and decided the whole business at once. Each lady was
With these supports, she hoped that the acquaintance previously well disposed for an agreement, and saw nothing,
between herself and the Crofts, which, with Lady Russell, therefore, but good manners in the other; and with regard
still resident in Kellynch, and Mary fixed only three miles to the gentlemen, there was such an hearty good humour,
off, must be anticipated, need not involve any particular such an open, trusting liberality on the Admiral’s side, as
awkwardness. 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 ev-
ery body, was right; and Mr Shepherd’s clerks were set to
work, without there having been a single preliminary dif-
ference 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 arrang-
ing of his hair, he should not be ashamed of being seen with

him any where; and the Admiral, with sympathetic cordi- of claiming Anne when anything was the matter, was in-
ality, observed to his wife as they drove back through the disposed; and foreseeing that she should not have a day’s
park, ‘I thought we should soon come to a deal, my dear, in health all the autumn, entreated, or rather required her, for
spite of what they told us at Taunton. The Baronet will never it was hardly entreaty, to come to Uppercross Cottage, and
set the Thames on fire, but there seems to be no harm in bear her company as long as she should want her, instead of
him.’ reciprocal compliments, which would have been es- going to Bath.
teemed about equal. ‘I cannot possibly do without Anne,’ was Mary’s reason-
The Crofts were to have possession at Michaelmas; and ing; and Elizabeth’s reply was, ‘Then I am sure Anne had
as Sir Walter proposed removing to Bath in the course of better stay, for nobody will want her in Bath.’
the preceding month, there was no time to be lost in mak- To be claimed as a good, though in an improper style,
ing every dependent arrangement. is at least better than being rejected as no good at all; and
Lady Russell, convinced that Anne would not be allowed Anne, glad to be thought of some use, glad to have anything
to be of any use, or any importance, in the choice of the marked out as a duty, and certainly not sorry to have the
house which they were going to secure, was very unwilling scene of it in the country, and her own dear country, read-
to have her hurried away so soon, and wanted to make it ily agreed to stay.
possible for her to stay behind till she might convey her to This invitation of Mary’s removed all Lady Russell’s dif-
Bath herself after Christmas; but having engagements of her ficulties, and it was consequently soon settled that Anne
own which must take her from Kellynch for several weeks, should not go to Bath till Lady Russell took her, and that all
she was unable to give the full invitation she wished, and the intervening time should be divided between Uppercross
Anne though dreading the possible heats of September in Cottage and Kellynch Lodge.
all the white glare of Bath, and grieving to forego all the So far all was perfectly right; but Lady Russell was al-
influence so sweet and so sad of the autumnal months in most startled by the wrong of one part of the Kellynch Hall
the country, did not think that, everything considered, she plan, when it burst on her, which was, Mrs Clay’s being en-
wished to remain. It would be most right, and most wise, gaged to go to Bath with Sir Walter and Elizabeth, as a most
and, therefore must involve least suffering to go with the important and valuable assistant to the latter in all the busi-
others. ness before her. Lady Russell was extremely sorry that such
Something occurred, however, to give her a different a measure should have been resorted to at all, wondered,
duty. Mary, often a little unwell, and always thinking a grieved, and feared; and the affront it contained to Anne,
great deal of her own complaints, and always in the habit in Mrs Clay’s being of so much use, while Anne could be of

none, was a very sore aggravation. all inequality of condition and rank more strongly than
Anne herself was become hardened to such affronts; but most people. And as to my father, I really should not have
she felt the imprudence of the arrangement quite as keen- thought that he, who has kept himself single so long for
ly as Lady Russell. With a great deal of quiet observation, our sakes, need be suspected now. If Mrs Clay were a very
and a knowledge, which she often wished less, of her father’s beautiful woman, I grant you, it might be wrong to have
character, she was sensible that results the most serious to her so much with me; not that anything in the world, I am
his family from the intimacy were more than possible. She sure, would induce my father to make a degrading match,
did not imagine that her father had at present an idea of but he might be rendered unhappy. But poor Mrs Clay who,
the kind. Mrs Clay had freckles, and a projecting tooth, and with all her merits, can never have been reckoned tolerably
a clumsy wrist, which he was continually making severe pretty, I really think poor Mrs Clay may be staying here in
remarks upon, in her absence; but she was young, and cer- perfect safety. One would imagine you had never heard my
tainly altogether well-looking, and possessed, in an acute father speak of her personal misfortunes, though I know
mind and assiduous pleasing manners, infinitely more dan- you must fifty times. That tooth of her’s and those freckles.
gerous attractions than any merely personal might have Freckles do not disgust me so very much as they do him. I
been. Anne was so impressed by the degree of their dan- have known a face not materially disfigured by a few, but
ger, that she could not excuse herself from trying to make he abominates them. You must have heard him notice Mrs
it perceptible to her sister. She had little hope of success; Clay’s freckles.’
but Elizabeth, who in the event of such a reverse would be ‘There is hardly any personal defect,’ replied Anne,
so much more to be pitied than herself, should never, she ‘which an agreeable manner might not gradually reconcile
thought, have reason to reproach her for giving no warn- one to.’
ing. ‘I think very differently,’ answered Elizabeth, shortly; ‘an
She spoke, and seemed only to offend. Elizabeth could agreeable manner may set off handsome features, but can
not conceive how such an absurd suspicion should occur never alter plain ones. However, at any rate, as I have a great
to her, and indignantly answered for each party’s perfectly deal more at stake on this point than anybody else can have,
knowing their situation. I think it rather unnecessary in you to be advising me.’
‘Mrs Clay,’ said she, warmly, ‘never forgets who she is; Anne had done; glad that it was over, and not absolute-
and as I am rather better acquainted with her sentiments ly hopeless of doing good. Elizabeth, though resenting the
than you can be, I can assure you, that upon the subject of suspicion, might yet be made observant by it.
marriage they are particularly nice, and that she reprobates The last office of the four carriage-horses was to draw Sir

Walter, Miss Elliot, and Mrs Clay to Bath. The party drove Cottage, with its veranda, French windows, and other pret-
off in very good spirits; Sir Walter prepared with conde- tiness, was quite as likely to catch the traveller’s eye as the
scending bows for all the afflicted tenantry and cottagers more consistent and considerable aspect and premises of
who might have had a hint to show themselves, and Anne the Great House, about a quarter of a mile farther on.
walked up at the same time, in a sort of desolate tranquil- Here Anne had often been staying. She knew the ways of
lity, to the Lodge, where she was to spend the first week. Uppercross as well as those of Kellynch. The two families
Her friend was not in better spirits than herself. Lady were so continually meeting, so much in the habit of run-
Russell felt this break-up of the family exceedingly. Their ning in and out of each other’s house at all hours, that it was
respectability was as dear to her as her own, and a daily in- rather a surprise to her to find Mary alone; but being alone,
tercourse had become precious by habit. It was painful to her being unwell and out of spirits was almost a matter of
look upon their deserted grounds, and still worse to antic- course. Though better endowed than the elder sister, Mary
ipate the new hands they were to fall into; and to escape had not Anne’s understanding nor temper. While well, and
the solitariness and the melancholy of so altered a village, happy, and properly attended to, she had great good hu-
and be out of the way when Admiral and Mrs Croft first ar- mour and excellent spirits; but any indisposition sunk her
rived, she had determined to make her own absence from completely. She had no resources for solitude; and inherit-
home begin when she must give up Anne. Accordingly ing a considerable share of the Elliot self-importance, was
their removal was made together, and Anne was set down very prone to add to every other distress that of fancying
at Uppercross Cottage, in the first stage of Lady Russell’s herself neglected and ill-used. In person, she was inferior to
journey. both sisters, and had, even in her bloom, only reached the
Uppercross was a moderate-sized village, which a few dignity of being ‘a fine girl.’ She was now lying on the faded
years back had been completely in the old English style, con- sofa of the pretty little drawing-room, the once elegant fur-
taining only two houses superior in appearance to those of niture of which had been gradually growing shabby, under
the yeomen and labourers; the mansion of the squire, with the influence of four summers and two children; and, on
its high walls, great gates, and old trees, substantial and un- Anne’s appearing, greeted her with—
modernized, and the compact, tight parsonage, enclosed ‘So, you are come at last! I began to think I should never
in its own neat garden, with a vine and a pear-tree trained see you. I am so ill I can hardly speak. I have not seen a crea-
round its casements; but upon the marriage of the young ture the whole morning!’
‘squire, it had received the improvement of a farm-house ‘I am sorry to find you unwell,’ replied Anne. ‘You sent
elevated into a cottage, for his residence, and Uppercross me such a good account of yourself on Thursday!’

‘Yes, I made the best of it; I always do: but I was very far ‘I never want them, I assure you. They talk and laugh a
from well at the time; and I do not think I ever was so ill in great deal too much for me. Oh! Anne, I am so very unwell!
my life as I have been all this morning: very unfit to be left It was quite unkind of you not to come on Thursday.’
alone, I am sure. Suppose I were to be seized of a sudden in ‘My dear Mary, recollect what a comfortable account you
some dreadful way, and not able to ring the bell! So, Lady sent me of yourself! You wrote in the cheerfullest manner,
Russell would not get out. I do not think she has been in this and said you were perfectly well, and in no hurry for me;
house three times this summer.’ and that being the case, you must be aware that my wish
Anne said what was proper, and enquired after her hus- would be to remain with Lady Russell to the last: and be-
band. ‘Oh! Charles is out shooting. I have not seen him since sides what I felt on her account, I have really been so busy,
seven o’clock. He would go, though I told him how ill I was. have had so much to do, that I could not very conveniently
He said he should not stay out long; but he has never come have left Kellynch sooner.’
back, and now it is almost one. I assure you, I have not seen ‘Dear me! what can you possibly have to do?’
a soul this whole long morning.’ ‘A great many things, I assure you. More than I can rec-
‘You have had your little boys with you?’ ollect in a moment; but I can tell you some. I have been
‘Yes, as long as I could bear their noise; but they are so making a duplicate of the catalogue of my father’s books and
unmanageable that they do me more harm than good. Little pictures. I have been several times in the garden with Mack-
Charles does not mind a word I say, and Walter is growing enzie, trying to understand, and make him understand,
quite as bad.’ which of Elizabeth’s plants are for Lady Russell. I have had
‘Well, you will soon be better now,’ replied Anne, cheer- all my own little concerns to arrange, books and music to
fully. ‘You know I always cure you when I come. How are divide, and all my trunks to repack, from not having under-
your neighbours at the Great House?’ stood in time what was intended as to the waggons: and one
‘I can give you no account of them. I have not seen one thing I have had to do, Mary, of a more trying nature: going
of them to-day, except Mr Musgrove, who just stopped and to almost every house in the parish, as a sort of take-leave.
spoke through the window, but without getting off his horse; I was told that they wished it. But all these things took up a
and though I told him how ill I was, not one of them have great deal of time.’
been near me. It did not happen to suit the Miss Musgroves, ‘Oh! well!’ and after a moment’s pause, ‘but you have
I suppose, and they never put themselves out of their way.’ never asked me one word about our dinner at the Pooles
‘You will see them yet, perhaps, before the morning is yesterday.’
gone. It is early.’ ‘Did you go then? I have made no enquiries, because I

concluded you must have been obliged to give up the par- ‘Oh! but they ought to call upon you as soon as possible.
ty.’ They ought to feel what is due to you as my sister. However,
‘Oh yes! I went. I was very well yesterday; nothing at all we may as well go and sit with them a little while, and when
the matter with me till this morning. It would have been we have that over, we can enjoy our walk.’
strange if I had not gone.’ Anne had always thought such a style of intercourse high-
‘I am very glad you were well enough, and I hope you had ly imprudent; but she had ceased to endeavour to check it,
a pleasant party.’ from believing that, though there were on each side contin-
‘Nothing remarkable. One always knows beforehand ual subjects of offence, neither family could now do without
what the dinner will be, and who will be there; and it is so it. To the Great House accordingly they went, to sit the full
very uncomfortable not having a carriage of one’s own. Mr half hour in the old-fashioned square parlour, with a small
and Mrs Musgrove took me, and we were so crowded! They carpet and shining floor, to which the present daughters of
are both so very large, and take up so much room; and Mr the house were gradually giving the proper air of confusion
Musgrove always sits forward. So, there was I, crowded into by a grand piano-forte and a harp, flower-stands and little
the back seat with Henrietta and Louise; and I think it very tables placed in every direction. Oh! could the originals of
likely that my illness to-day may be owing to it.’ the portraits against the wainscot, could the gentlemen in
A little further perseverance in patience and forced brown velvet and the ladies in blue satin have seen what was
cheerfulness on Anne’s side produced nearly a cure on going on, have been conscious of such an overthrow of all
Mary’s. She could soon sit upright on the sofa, and began to order and neatness! The portraits themselves seemed to be
hope she might be able to leave it by dinner-time. Then, for- staring in astonishment.
getting to think of it, she was at the other end of the room, The Musgroves, like their houses, were in a state of al-
beautifying a nosegay; then, she ate her cold meat; and then teration, perhaps of improvement. The father and mother
she was well enough to propose a little walk. were in the old English style, and the young people in the
‘Where shall we go?’ said she, when they were ready. ‘I new. Mr and Mrs Musgrove were a very good sort of people;
suppose you will not like to call at the Great House before friendly and hospitable, not much educated, and not at all
they have been to see you?’ elegant. Their children had more modern minds and man-
‘I have not the smallest objection on that account,’ re- ners. There was a numerous family; but the only two grown
plied Anne. ‘I should never think of standing on such up, excepting Charles, were Henrietta and Louisa, young la-
ceremony with people I know so well as Mrs and the Miss dies of nineteen and twenty, who had brought from school
Musgroves.’ at Exeter all the usual stock of accomplishments, and were

now like thousands of other young ladies, living to be fash-
ionable, happy, and merry. Their dress had every advantage, Chapter 6
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 Anne had not wanted this visit to Uppercross, to learn
acquaintance; but still, saved as we all are, by some comfort- that a removal from one set of people to another, though
able feeling of superiority from wishing for the possibility at a distance of only three miles, will often include a total
of exchange, she would not have given up her own more change of conversation, opinion, and idea. She had never
elegant and cultivated mind for all their enjoyments; and been staying there before, without being struck by it, or
envied them nothing but that seemingly perfect good un- without wishing that other Elliots could have her advantage
derstanding and agreement together, that good-humoured in seeing how unknown, or unconsidered there, were the af-
mutual affection, of which she had known so little herself fairs which at Kellynch Hall were treated as of such general
with either of her sisters. publicity and pervading interest; yet, with all this experi-
They were received with great cordiality. Nothing seemed ence, she believed she must now submit to feel that another
amiss on the side of the Great House family, which was gen- lesson, in the art of knowing our own nothingness beyond
erally, as Anne very well knew, the least to blame. The half our own circle, was become necessary for her; for certainly,
hour was chatted away pleasantly enough; and she was not coming as she did, with a heart full of the subject which
at all surprised at the end of it, to have their walking party had been completely occupying both houses in Kellynch for
joined by both the Miss Musgroves, at Mary’s particular in- many weeks, she had expected rather more curiosity and
vitation. sympathy than she found in the separate but very similar
remark of Mr and Mrs Musgrove: ‘So, Miss Anne, Sir Wal-
ter 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!’ plation; though, at the same time, Anne could believe, with
She could only resolve to avoid such self-delusion in Lady Russell, that a more equal match might have great-
future, and think with heightened gratitude of the extraor- ly improved him; and that a woman of real understanding
dinary blessing of having one such truly sympathising might have given more consequence to his character, and
friend as Lady Russell. more usefulness, rationality, and elegance to his habits
The Mr Musgroves had their own game to guard, and and pursuits. As it was, he did nothing with much zeal,
to destroy, their own horses, dogs, and newspapers to en- but sport; and his time was otherwise trifled away, with-
gage them, and the females were fully occupied in all the out benefit from books or anything else. He had very good
other common subjects of housekeeping, neighbours, dress, spirits, which never seemed much affected by his wife’s
dancing, and music. She acknowledged it to be very fitting, occasional lowness, bore with her unreasonableness some-
that every little social commonwealth should dictate its times to Anne’s admiration, and upon the whole, though
own matters of discourse; and hoped, ere long, to become a there was very often a little disagreement (in which she had
not unworthy member of the one she was now transplanted sometimes more share than she wished, being appealed to
into. With the prospect of spending at least two months at by both parties), they might pass for a happy couple. They
Uppercross, it was highly incumbent on her to clothe her were always perfectly agreed in the want of more money,
imagination, her memory, and all her ideas in as much of and a strong inclination for a handsome present from his fa-
Uppercross as possible. ther; but here, as on most topics, he had the superiority, for
She had no dread of these two months. Mary was not so while Mary thought it a great shame that such a present was
repulsive and unsisterly as Elizabeth, nor so inaccessible to not made, he always contended for his father’s having many
all influence of hers; neither was there anything among the other uses for his money, and a right to spend it as he liked.
other component parts of the cottage inimical to comfort. As to the management of their children, his theory was
She was always on friendly terms with her brother-in-law; much better than his wife’s, and his practice not so bad. ‘I
and in the children, who loved her nearly as well, and re- could manage them very well, if it were not for Mary’s in-
spected her a great deal more than their mother, she had an terference,’ was what Anne often heard him say, and had a
object of interest, amusement, and wholesome exertion. good deal of faith in; but when listening in turn to Mary’s
Charles Musgrove was civil and agreeable; in sense and reproach of ‘Charles spoils the children so that I cannot get
temper he was undoubtedly superior to his wife, but not them into any order,’ she never had the smallest temptation
of powers, or conversation, or grace, to make the past, as to say, ‘Very true.’
they were connected together, at all a dangerous contem- One of the least agreeable circumstances of her residence

there was her being treated with too much confidence by bad to have children with one that one is obligated to be
all parties, and being too much in the secret of the com- checking every moment; ‘don’t do this,’ and ‘don’t do that;’
plaints of each house. Known to have some influence with or that one can only keep in tolerable order by more cake
her sister, she was continually requested, or at least receiv- than is good for them.’
ing hints to exert it, beyond what was practicable. ‘I wish She had this communication, moreover, from Mary. ‘Mrs
you could persuade Mary not to be always fancying herself Musgrove thinks all her servants so steady, that it would be
ill,’ was Charles’s language; and, in an unhappy mood, thus high treason to call it in question; but I am sure, without ex-
spoke Mary: ‘I do believe if Charles were to see me dying, he aggeration, that her upper house-maid and laundry-maid,
would not think there was anything the matter with me. I instead of being in their business, are gadding about the vil-
am sure, Anne, if you would, you might persuade him that I lage, all day long. I meet them wherever I go; and I declare, I
really am very ill—a great deal worse than I ever own.’ never go twice into my nursery without seeing something of
Mary’s declaration was, ‘I hate sending the children them. If Jemima were not the trustiest, steadiest creature in
to the Great House, though their grandmamma is always the world, it would be enough to spoil her; for she tells me,
wanting to see them, for she humours and indulges them they are always tempting her to take a walk with them.’ And
to such a degree, and gives them so much trash and sweet on Mrs Musgrove’s side, it was, ‘I make a rule of never inter-
things, that they are sure to come back sick and cross for fering in any of my daughter-in-law’s concerns, for I know
the rest of the day.’ And Mrs Musgrove took the first oppor- it would not do; but I shall tell you, Miss Anne, because you
tunity of being alone with Anne, to say, ‘Oh! Miss Anne, I may be able to set things to rights, that I have no very good
cannot help wishing Mrs Charles had a little of your meth- opinion of Mrs Charles’s nursery-maid: I hear strange sto-
od with those children. They are quite different creatures ries of her; she is always upon the gad; and from my own
with you! But to be sure, in general they are so spoilt! It is knowledge, I can declare, she is such a fine-dressing lady,
a pity you cannot put your sister in the way of managing that she is enough to ruin any servants she comes near. Mrs
them. They are as fine healthy children as ever were seen, Charles quite swears by her, I know; but I just give you this
poor little dears! without partiality; but Mrs Charles knows hint, that you may be upon the watch; because, if you see
no more how they should be treated—! Bless me! how trou- anything amiss, you need not be afraid of mentioning it.’
blesome they are sometimes. I assure you, Miss Anne, it Again, it was Mary’s complaint, that Mrs Musgrove was
prevents my wishing to see them at our house so often as I very apt not to give her the precedence that was her due,
otherwise should. I believe Mrs Charles is not quite pleased when they dined at the Great House with other families;
with my not inviting them oftener; but you know it is very 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 asunder; but she believed they should not have done so well
Anne was walking with only the Musgroves, one of them without the sight of Mr and Mrs Musgrove’s respectable
after talking of rank, people of rank, and jealousy of rank, forms in the usual places, or without the talking, laughing,
said, ‘I have no scruple of observing to you, how nonsensi- and singing of their daughters.
cal some persons are about their place, because all the world She played a great deal better than either of the Miss Mus-
knows how easy and indifferent you are about it; but I wish groves, but having no voice, no knowledge of the harp, and
anybody could give Mary a hint that it would be a great deal no fond parents, to sit by and fancy themselves delighted,
better if she were not so very tenacious, especially if she her performance was little thought of, only out of civility, or
would not be always putting herself forward to take place to refresh the others, as she was well aware. She knew that
of mamma. Nobody doubts her right to have precedence of when she played she was giving pleasure only to herself; but
mamma, but it would be more becoming in her not to be al- this was no new sensation. Excepting one short period of
ways insisting on it. It is not that mamma cares about it the her life, she had never, since the age of fourteen, never since
least in the world, but I know it is taken notice of by many the loss of her dear mother, known the happiness of being
persons.’ listened to, or encouraged by any just appreciation or real
How was Anne to set all these matters to rights? She taste. In music she had been always used to feel alone in the
could do little more than listen patiently, soften every griev- world; and Mr and Mrs Musgrove’s fond partiality for their
ance, and excuse each to the other; give them all hints of own daughters’ performance, and total indifference to any
the forbearance necessary between such near neighbours, other person’s, gave her much more pleasure for their sakes,
and make those hints broadest which were meant for her than mortification for her own.
sister’s benefit. The party at the Great House was sometimes increased
In all other respects, her visit began and proceeded very by other company. The neighbourhood was not large, but
well. Her own spirits improved by change of place and sub- the Musgroves were visited by everybody, and had more
ject, by being removed three miles from Kellynch; Mary’s dinner-parties, and more callers, more visitors by invita-
ailments lessened by having a constant companion, and tion and by chance, than any other family. There were more
their daily intercourse with the other family, since there completely popular.
was neither superior affection, confidence, nor employment The girls were wild for dancing; and the evenings ended,
in the cottage, to be interrupted by it, was rather an advan- occasionally, in an unpremeditated little ball. There was a
tage. It was certainly carried nearly as far as possible, for family of cousins within a walk of Uppercross, in less afflu-
they met every morning, and hardly ever spent an evening ent circumstances, who depended on the Musgroves for all

their pleasures: they would come at any time, and help play at home, but the two sisters were together; and as it chanced
at anything, or dance anywhere; and Anne, very much pre- that Mrs Croft fell to the share of Anne, while the Admiral
ferring the office of musician to a more active post, played sat by Mary, and made himself very agreeable by his good-
country dances to them by the hour together; a kindness humoured notice of her little boys, she was well able to watch
which always recommended her musical powers to the no- for a likeness, and if it failed her in the features, to catch it in
tice of Mr and Mrs Musgrove more than anything else, and the voice, or in the turn of sentiment and expression.
often drew this compliment;— ‘Well done, Miss Anne! very Mrs Croft, though neither tall nor fat, had a squareness,
well done indeed! Lord bless me! how those little fingers of uprightness, and vigour of form, which gave importance
yours fly about!’ to her person. She had bright dark eyes, good teeth, and
So passed the first three weeks. Michaelmas came; and altogether an agreeable face; though her reddened and
now Anne’s heart must be in Kellynch again. A beloved weather-beaten complexion, the consequence of her having
home made over to others; all the precious rooms and fur- been almost as much at sea as her husband, made her seem
niture, groves, and prospects, beginning to own other eyes to have lived some years longer in the world than her real
and other limbs! She could not think of much else on the eight-and-thirty. Her manners were open, easy, and decid-
29th of September; and she had this sympathetic touch in ed, like one who had no distrust of herself, and no doubts
the evening from Mary, who, on having occasion to note of what to do; without any approach to coarseness, however,
down the day of the month, exclaimed, ‘Dear me, is not this or any want of good humour. Anne gave her credit, indeed,
the day the Crofts were to come to Kellynch? I am glad I did for feelings of great consideration towards herself, in all that
not think of it before. How low it makes me!’ related to Kellynch, and it pleased her: especially, as she had
The Crofts took possession with true naval alertness, and satisfied herself in the very first half minute, in the instant
were to be visited. Mary deplored the necessity for herself. even of introduction, that there was not the smallest symp-
‘Nobody knew how much she should suffer. She should put tom of any knowledge or suspicion on Mrs Croft’s side, to
it off as long as she could;’ but was not easy till she had talk- give a bias of any sort. She was quite easy on that head, and
ed Charles into driving her over on an early day, and was consequently full of strength and courage, till for a moment
in a very animated, comfortable state of imaginary agita- electrified by Mrs Croft’s suddenly saying,—
tion, when she came back. Anne had very sincerely rejoiced ‘It was you, and not your sister, I find, that my brother
in there being no means of her going. She wished, however had the pleasure of being acquainted with, when he was in
to see the Crofts, and was glad to be within when the visit this country.’
was returned. They came: the master of the house was not Anne hoped she had outlived the age of blushing; but the

age of emotion she certainly had not. ning to be listened for, when the youngest Miss Musgrove
‘Perhaps you may not have heard that he is married?’ walked in. That she was coming to apologize, and that they
added Mrs Croft. should have to spend the evening by themselves, was the
She could now answer as she ought; and was happy to feel, first black idea; and Mary was quite ready to be affronted,
when Mrs Croft’s next words explained it to be Mr Went- when Louisa made all right by saying, that she only came on
worth of whom she spoke, that she had said nothing which foot, to leave more room for the harp, which was bringing
might not do for either brother. She immediately felt how in the carriage.
reasonable it was, that Mrs Croft should be thinking and ‘And I will tell you our reason,’ she added, ‘and all about
speaking of Edward, and not of Frederick; and with shame it. I am come on to give you notice, that papa and mam-
at her own forgetfulness applied herself to the knowledge of ma are out of spirits this evening, especially mamma; she is
their former neighbour’s present state with proper interest. thinking so much of poor Richard! And we agreed it would
The rest was all tranquillity; till, just as they were moving, be best to have the harp, for it seems to amuse her more
she heard the Admiral say to Mary— than the piano-forte. I will tell you why she is out of spir-
‘We are expecting a brother of Mrs Croft’s here soon; I its. When the Crofts called this morning, (they called here
dare say you know him by name.’ afterwards, did not they?), they happened to say, that her
He was cut short by the eager attacks of the little boys, brother, Captain Wentworth, is just returned to England,
clinging to him like an old friend, and declaring he should or paid off, or something, and is coming to see them almost
not go; and being too much engrossed by proposals of car- directly; and most unluckily it came into mamma’s head,
rying them away in his coat pockets, &c., to have another when they were gone, that Wentworth, or something very
moment for finishing or recollecting what he had begun, like it, was the name of poor Richard’s captain at one time;
Anne was left to persuade herself, as well as she could, that I do not know when or where, but a great while before he
the same brother must still be in question. She could not, died, poor fellow! And upon looking over his letters and
however, reach such a degree of certainty, as not to be anx- things, she found it was so, and is perfectly sure that this
ious to hear whether anything had been said on the subject must be the very man, and her head is quite full of it, and of
at the other house, where the Crofts had previously been poor Richard! So we must be as merry as we can, that she
calling. may not be dwelling upon such gloomy things.’
The folks of the Great House were to spend the evening The real circumstances of this pathetic piece of family
of this day at the Cottage; and it being now too late in the history were, that the Musgroves had had the ill fortune of
year for such visits to be made on foot, the coach was begin- a very troublesome, hopeless son; and the good fortune to

lose him before he reached his twentieth year; that he had extraordinary bursts of mind which do sometimes occur.
been sent to sea because he was stupid and unmanageable She had gone to her letters, and found it all as she sup-
on shore; that he had been very little cared for at any time posed; and the re-perusal of these letters, after so long an
by his family, though quite as much as he deserved; seldom interval, her poor son gone for ever, and all the strength of
heard of, and scarcely at all regretted, when the intelligence his faults forgotten, had affected her spirits exceedingly, and
of his death abroad had worked its way to Uppercross, two thrown her into greater grief for him than she had know on
years before. first hearing of his death. Mr Musgrove was, in a lesser de-
He had, in fact, though his sisters were now doing all they gree, affected likewise; and when they reached the cottage,
could for him, by calling him ‘poor Richard,’ been noth- they were evidently in want, first, of being listened to anew
ing better than a thick-headed, unfeeling, unprofitable Dick on this subject, and afterwards, of all the relief which cheer-
Musgrove, who had never done anything to entitle himself ful companions could give them.
to more than the abbreviation of his name, living or dead. To hear them talking so much of Captain Wentworth,
He had been several years at sea, and had, in the course repeating his name so often, puzzling over past years, and
of those removals to which all midshipmen are liable, and at last ascertaining that it might, that it probably would,
especially such midshipmen as every captain wishes to get turn out to be the very same Captain Wentworth whom
rid of, been six months on board Captain Frederick Went- they recollected meeting, once or twice, after their coming
worth’s frigate, the Laconia; and from the Laconia he had, back from Clifton—a very fine young man—but they could
under the influence of his captain, written the only two let- not say whether it was seven or eight years ago, was a new
ters which his father and mother had ever received from sort of trial to Anne’s nerves. She found, however, that it
him during the whole of his absence; that is to say, the only was one to which she must inure herself. Since he actually
two disinterested letters; all the rest had been mere applica- was expected in the country, she must teach herself to be
tions for money. insensible on such points. And not only did it appear that
In each letter he had spoken well of his captain; but yet, he was expected, and speedily, but the Musgroves, in their
so little were they in the habit of attending to such matters, warm gratitude for the kindness he had shewn poor Dick,
so unobservant and incurious were they as to the names of and very high respect for his character, stamped as it was
men or ships, that it had made scarcely any impression at by poor Dick’s having been six months under his care, and
the time; and that Mrs Musgrove should have been sudden- mentioning him in strong, though not perfectly well-spelt
ly struck, this very day, with a recollection of the name of praise, as ‘a fine dashing felow, only two perticular about
Wentworth, as connected with her son, seemed one of those the schoolmaster,’ were bent on introducing themselves,

and seeking his acquaintance, as soon as they could hear
of his arrival. Chapter 7
The resolution of doing so helped to form the comfort of
their evening.
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 in-
difference, 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 in reply to papa and mamma’s farther pressing invitations
thing to do at once; the apothecary to send for, the father to come and dine with them on the morrow—actually on
to have pursued and informed, the mother to support and the morrow; and he had promised it in so pleasant a man-
keep from hysterics, the servants to control, the youngest ner, as if he felt all the motive of their attention just as he
child to banish, and the poor suffering one to attend and ought. And in short, he had looked and said everything
soothe; besides sending, as soon as she recollected it, proper with such exquisite grace, that they could assure them all,
notice to the other house, which brought her an accession their heads were both turned by him; and off they ran, quite
rather of frightened, enquiring companions, than of very as full of glee as of love, and apparently more full of Captain
useful assistants. Wentworth than of little Charles.
Her brother’s return was the first comfort; he could take The same story and the same raptures were repeated,
best care of his wife; and the second blessing was the ar- when the two girls came with their father, through the
rival of the apothecary. Till he came and had examined the gloom of the evening, to make enquiries; and Mr Musgrove,
child, their apprehensions were the worse for being vague; no longer under the first uneasiness about his heir, could add
they suspected great injury, but knew not where; but now his confirmation and praise, and hope there would be now
the collar-bone was soon replaced, and though Mr Robin- no occasion for putting Captain Wentworth off, and only
son felt and felt, and rubbed, and looked grave, and spoke be sorry to think that the cottage party, probably, would not
low words both to the father and the aunt, still they were all like to leave the little boy, to give him the meeting. ‘Oh no;
to hope the best, and to be able to part and eat their dinner as to leaving the little boy,’ both father and mother were in
in tolerable ease of mind; and then it was, just before they much too strong and recent alarm to bear the thought; and
parted, that the two young aunts were able so far to digress Anne, in the joy of the escape, could not help adding her
from their nephew’s state, as to give the information of Cap- warm protestations to theirs.
tain Wentworth’s visit; staying five minutes behind their Charles Musgrove, indeed, afterwards, shewed more of
father and mother, to endeavour to express how perfectly inclination; ‘the child was going on so well, and he wished
delighted they were with him, how much handsomer, how so much to be introduced to Captain Wentworth, that, per-
infinitely more agreeable they thought him than any indi- haps, he might join them in the evening; he would not dine
vidual among their male acquaintance, who had been at all from home, but he might walk in for half an hour.’ But in
a favourite before. How glad they had been to hear papa in- this he was eagerly opposed by his wife, with ‘Oh! no, in-
vite him to stay dinner, how sorry when he said it was quite deed, Charles, I cannot bear to have you go away. Only
out of his power, and how glad again when he had promised think if anything should happen?’

The child had a good night, and was going on well the there is anything disagreeable going on men are always sure
next day. It must be a work of time to ascertain that no in- to get out of it, and Charles is as bad as any of them. Very
jury had been done to the spine; but Mr Robinson found unfeeling! I must say it is very unfeeling of him to be run-
nothing to increase alarm, and Charles Musgrove began, ning away from his poor little boy. Talks of his being going
consequently, to feel no necessity for longer confinement. on so well! How does he know that he is going on well, or
The child was to be kept in bed and amused as quietly as that there may not be a sudden change half an hour hence?
possible; but what was there for a father to do? This was I did not think Charles would have been so unfeeling. So
quite a female case, and it would be highly absurd in him, here he is to go away and enjoy himself, and because I am
who could be of no use at home, to shut himself up. His fa- the poor mother, I am not to be allowed to stir; and yet, I
ther very much wished him to meet Captain Wentworth, am sure, I am more unfit than anybody else to be about the
and there being no sufficient reason against it, he ought to child. My being the mother is the very reason why my feel-
go; and it ended in his making a bold, public declaration, ings should not be tried. I am not at all equal to it. You saw
when he came in from shooting, of his meaning to dress di- how hysterical I was yesterday.’
rectly, and dine at the other house. ‘But that was only the effect of the suddenness of your
‘Nothing can be going on better than the child,’ said he; alarm— of the shock. You will not be hysterical again. I
‘so I told my father, just now, that I would come, and he dare say we shall have nothing to distress us. I perfectly un-
thought me quite right. Your sister being with you, my love, derstand Mr Robinson’s directions, and have no fears; and
I have no scruple at all. You would not like to leave him indeed, Mary, I cannot wonder at your husband. Nursing
yourself, but you see I can be of no use. Anne will send for does not belong to a man; it is not his province. A sick child
me if anything is the matter.’ is always the mother’s property: her own feelings generally
Husbands and wives generally understand when oppo- make it so.’
sition will be vain. Mary knew, from Charles’s manner of ‘I hope I am as fond of my child as any mother, but I do
speaking, that he was quite determined on going, and that not know that I am of any more use in the sick-room than
it would be of no use to teaze him. She said nothing, there- Charles, for I cannot be always scolding and teazing the
fore, till he was out of the room, but as soon as there was poor child when it is ill; and you saw, this morning, that if I
only Anne to hear— told him to keep quiet, he was sure to begin kicking about. I
‘So you and I are to be left to shift by ourselves, with this have not nerves for the sort of thing.’
poor sick child; and not a creature coming near us all the ‘But, could you be comfortable yourself, to be spending
evening! I knew how it would be. This is always my luck. If the whole evening away from the poor boy?’

‘Yes; you see his papa can, and why should not I? Jemima Mary’s saying, in a tone of great exultation—
is so careful; and she could send us word every hour how ‘I mean to go with you, Charles, for I am of no more use
he was. I really think Charles might as well have told his fa- at home than you are. If I were to shut myself up for ever
ther we would all come. I am not more alarmed about little with the child, I should not be able to persuade him to do
Charles now than he is. I was dreadfully alarmed yesterday, anything he did not like. Anne will stay; Anne undertakes
but the case is very different to-day.’ to stay at home and take care of him. It is Anne’s own pro-
‘Well, if you do not think it too late to give notice for posal, and so I shall go with you, which will be a great deal
yourself, suppose you were to go, as well as your husband. better, for I have not dined at the other house since Tues-
Leave little Charles to my care. Mr and Mrs Musgrove can- day.’
not think it wrong while I remain with him.’ ‘This is very kind of Anne,’ was her husband’s answer,
‘Are you serious?’ cried Mary, her eyes brightening. ‘and I should be very glad to have you go; but it seems rather
‘Dear me! that’s a very good thought, very good, indeed. To hard that she should be left at home by herself, to nurse our
be sure, I may just as well go as not, for I am of no use at sick child.’
home—am I? and it only harasses me. You, who have not a Anne was now at hand to take up her own cause, and the
mother’s feelings, are a great deal the properest person. You sincerity of her manner being soon sufficient to convince
can make little Charles do anything; he always minds you him, where conviction was at least very agreeable, he had no
at a word. It will be a great deal better than leaving him only farther scruples as to her being left to dine alone, though he
with Jemima. Oh! I shall certainly go; I am sure I ought if I still wanted her to join them in the evening, when the child
can, quite as much as Charles, for they want me excessively might be at rest for the night, and kindly urged her to let
to be acquainted with Captain Wentworth, and I know you him come and fetch her, but she was quite unpersuadable;
do not mind being left alone. An excellent thought of yours, and this being the case, she had ere long the pleasure of see-
indeed, Anne. I will go and tell Charles, and get ready di- ing them set off together in high spirits. They were gone, she
rectly. You can send for us, you know, at a moment’s notice, hoped, to be happy, however oddly constructed such hap-
if anything is the matter; but I dare say there will be nothing piness might seem; as for herself, she was left with as many
to alarm you. I should not go, you may be sure, if I did not sensations of comfort, as were, perhaps, ever likely to be
feel quite at ease about my dear child.’ hers. She knew herself to be of the first utility to the child;
The next moment she was tapping at her husband’s and what was it to her if Frederick Wentworth were only
dressing-room door, and as Anne followed her up stairs, she half a mile distant, making himself agreeable to others?
was in time for the whole conversation, which began with She would have liked to know how he felt as to a meeting.

Perhaps indifferent, if indifference could exist under such were just setting off, that he was come for his dogs, that his
circumstances. He must be either indifferent or unwilling. sisters were following with Captain Wentworth; his sisters
Had he wished ever to see her again, he need not have wait- meaning to visit Mary and the child, and Captain Went-
ed till this time; he would have done what she could not worth proposing also to wait on her for a few minutes if
but believe that in his place she should have done long ago, not inconvenient; and though Charles had answered for the
when events had been early giving him the independence child’s being in no such state as could make it inconvenient,
which alone had been wanting. Captain Wentworth would not be satisfied without his run-
Her brother and sister came back delighted with their ning on to give notice.
new acquaintance, and their visit in general. There had been Mary, very much gratified by this attention, was delight-
music, singing, talking, laughing, all that was most agree- ed to receive him, while a thousand feelings rushed on Anne,
able; charming manners in Captain Wentworth, no shyness of which this was the most consoling, that it would soon be
or reserve; they seemed all to know each other perfectly, over. And it was soon over. In two minutes after Charles’s
and he was coming the very next morning to shoot with preparation, the others appeared; they were in the draw-
Charles. He was to come to breakfast, but not at the Cot- ing-room. Her eye half met Captain Wentworth’s, a bow, a
tage, though that had been proposed at first; but then he had curtsey passed; she heard his voice; he talked to Mary, said
been pressed to come to the Great House instead, and he all that was right, said something to the Miss Musgroves,
seemed afraid of being in Mrs Charles Musgrove’s way, on enough to mark an easy footing; the room seemed full, full
account of the child, and therefore, somehow, they hardly of persons and voices, but a few minutes ended it. Charles
knew how, it ended in Charles’s being to meet him to break- shewed himself at the window, all was ready, their visitor
fast at his father’s. had bowed and was gone, the Miss Musgroves were gone
Anne understood it. He wished to avoid seeing her. He too, suddenly resolving to walk to the end of the village
had inquired after her, she found, slightly, as might suit a with the sportsmen: the room was cleared, and Anne might
former slight acquaintance, seeming to acknowledge such finish her breakfast as she could.
as she had acknowledged, actuated, perhaps, by the same ‘It is over! it is over!’ she repeated to herself again and
view of escaping introduction when they were to meet. again, in nervous gratitude. ‘The worst is over!’
The morning hours of the Cottage were always later than Mary talked, but she could not attend. She had seen him.
those of the other house, and on the morrow the difference They had met. They had been once more in the same room.
was so great that Mary and Anne were not more than be- Soon, however, she began to reason with herself, and try
ginning breakfast when Charles came in to say that they to be feeling less. Eight years, almost eight years had passed,

since all had been given up. How absurd to be resuming the No: the years which had destroyed her youth and bloom had
agitation which such an interval had banished into distance only given him a more glowing, manly, open look, in no re-
and indistinctness! What might not eight years do? Events spect lessening his personal advantages. She had seen the
of every description, changes, alienations, removals—all, same Frederick Wentworth.
all must be comprised in it, and oblivion of the past— how ‘So altered that he should not have known her again!’
natural, how certain too! It included nearly a third part of These were words which could not but dwell with her. Yet
her own life. she soon began to rejoice that she had heard them. They
Alas! with all her reasoning, she found, that to retentive were of sobering tendency; they allayed agitation; they com-
feelings eight years may be little more than nothing. posed, and consequently must make her happier.
Now, how were his sentiments to be read? Was this like Frederick Wentworth had used such words, or some-
wishing to avoid her? And the next moment she was hating thing like them, but without an idea that they would be
herself for the folly which asked the question. carried round to her. He had thought her wretchedly al-
On one other question which perhaps her utmost wis- tered, and in the first moment of appeal, had spoken as he
dom might not have prevented, she was soon spared all felt. He had not forgiven Anne Elliot. She had used him ill,
suspense; for, after the Miss Musgroves had returned and deserted and disappointed him; and worse, she had shewn a
finished their visit at the Cottage she had this spontaneous feebleness of character in doing so, which his own decided,
information from Mary: — confident temper could not endure. She had given him up
‘Captain Wentworth is not very gallant by you, Anne, to oblige others. It had been the effect of over-persuasion. It
though he was so attentive to me. Henrietta asked him what had been weakness and timidity.
he thought of you, when they went away, and he said, ‘You He had been most warmly attached to her, and had never
were so altered he should not have known you again.’’ seen a woman since whom he thought her equal; but, ex-
Mary had no feelings to make her respect her sister’s in cept from some natural sensation of curiosity, he had no
a common way, but she was perfectly unsuspicious of being desire of meeting her again. Her power with him was gone
inflicting any peculiar wound. for ever.
‘Altered beyond his knowledge.’ Anne fully submitted, It was now his object to marry. He was rich, and be-
in silent, deep mortification. Doubtless it was so, and she ing turned on shore, fully intended to settle as soon as he
could take no revenge, for he was not altered, or not for the could be properly tempted; actually looking round, ready
worse. She had already acknowledged it to herself, and she to fall in love with all the speed which a clear head and a
could not think differently, let him think of her as he would. 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, except- Chapter 8
ing 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 From this time Captain Wentworth and Anne Elliot were
for asking. A little beauty, and a few smiles, and a few com- repeatedly in the same circle. They were soon dining in
pliments to the navy, and I am a lost man. Should not this be company together at Mr Musgrove’s, for the little boy’s state
enough for a sailor, who has had no society among women could no longer supply his aunt with a pretence for absent-
to make him nice?’ ing herself; and this was but the beginning of other dinings
He said it, she knew, to be contradicted. His bright proud and other meetings.
eye spoke the conviction that he was nice; and Anne Elliot Whether former feelings were to be renewed must be
was not out of his thoughts, when he more seriously de- brought to the proof; former times must undoubtedly be
scribed the woman he should wish to meet with. ‘A strong brought to the recollection of each; they could not but be
mind, with sweetness of manner,’ made the first and the last reverted to; the year of their engagement could not but be
of the description. named by him, in the little narratives or descriptions which
‘That is the woman I want,’ said he. ‘Something a little in- conversation called forth. His profession qualified him,
ferior I shall of course put up with, but it must not be much. his disposition lead him, to talk; and ‘That was in the year
If I am a fool, I shall be a fool indeed, for I have thought on six;’ ‘That happened before I went to sea in the year six,’ oc-
the subject more than most men.’ curred 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 asso-
ciation 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 time.’
all the large party now filling the drawing-room at Upper- Anne suppressed a smile, and listened kindly, while Mrs
cross, they would have found it most difficult to cease to Musgrove relieved her heart a little more; and for a few min-
speak to one another. With the exception, perhaps, of Ad- utes, therefore, could not keep pace with the conversation of
miral and Mrs Croft, who seemed particularly attached and the others.
happy, (Anne could allow no other exceptions even among When she could let her attention take its natural course
the married couples), there could have been no two hearts so again, she found the Miss Musgroves just fetching the Navy
open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no coun- List (their own navy list, the first that had ever been at Up-
tenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers; nay, worse percross), and sitting down together to pore over it, with the
than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It professed view of finding out the ships that Captain Went-
was a perpetual estrangement. worth had commanded.
When he talked, she heard the same voice, and discerned ‘Your first was the Asp, I remember; we will look for the
the same mind. There was a very general ignorance of all Asp.’
naval matters throughout the party; and he was very much ‘You will not find her there. Quite worn out and broken
questioned, and especially by the two Miss Musgroves, who up. I was the last man who commanded her. Hardly fit for
seemed hardly to have any eyes but for him, as to the manner service then. Reported fit for home service for a year or two,
of living on board, daily regulations, food, hours, &c., and and so I was sent off to the West Indies.’
their surprise at his accounts, at learning the degree of ac- The girls looked all amazement.
commodation and arrangement which was practicable, drew ‘The Admiralty,’ he continued, ‘entertain themselves now
from him some pleasant ridicule, which reminded Anne of and then, with sending a few hundred men to sea, in a ship
the early days when she too had been ignorant, and she too not fit to be employed. But they have a great many to provide
had been accused of supposing sailors to be living on board for; and among the thousands that may just as well go to the
without anything to eat, or any cook to dress it if there were, bottom as not, it is impossible for them to distinguish the
or any servant to wait, or any knife and fork to use. very set who may be least missed.’
From thus listening and thinking, she was roused by a ‘Phoo! phoo!’ cried the Admiral, ‘what stuff these young
whisper of Mrs Musgrove’s who, overcome by fond regrets, fellows talk! Never was a better sloop than the Asp in her
could not help saying— day. For an old built sloop, you would not see her equal.
‘Ah! Miss Anne, if it had pleased Heaven to spare my poor Lucky fellow to get her! He knows there must have been
son, I dare say he would have been just such another by this twenty better men than himself applying for her at the same

time. Lucky fellow to get anything so soon, with no more in- the time; our touch with the Great Nation not having much
terest than his.’ improved our condition. Four-and-twenty hours later, and
‘I felt my luck, Admiral, I assure you;’ replied Captain I should only have been a gallant Captain Wentworth, in a
Wentworth, seriously. ‘I was as well satisfied with my ap- small paragraph at one corner of the newspapers; and be-
pointment as you can desire. It was a great object with me ing lost in only a sloop, nobody would have thought about
at that time to be at sea; a very great object, I wanted to be me.’ Anne’s shudderings were to herself alone; but the Miss
doing something.’ Musgroves could be as open as they were sincere, in their ex-
‘To be sure you did. What should a young fellow like you clamations of pity and horror.
do ashore for half a year together? If a man had not a wife, he ‘And so then, I suppose,’ said Mrs Musgrove, in a low
soon wants to be afloat again.’ voice, as if thinking aloud, ‘so then he went away to the La-
‘But, Captain Wentworth,’ cried Louisa, ‘how vexed you conia, and there he met with our poor boy. Charles, my dear,’
must have been when you came to the Asp, to see what an (beckoning him to her), ‘do ask Captain Wentworth where it
old thing they had given you.’ was he first met with your poor brother. I always forgot.’
‘I knew pretty well what she was before that day;’ said he, ‘It was at Gibraltar, mother, I know. Dick had been left ill
smiling. ‘I had no more discoveries to make than you would at Gibraltar, with a recommendation from his former cap-
have as to the fashion and strength of any old pelisse, which tain to Captain Wentworth.’
you had seen lent about among half your acquaintance ever ‘Oh! but, Charles, tell Captain Wentworth, he need not
since you could remember, and which at last, on some very be afraid of mentioning poor Dick before me, for it would
wet day, is lent to yourself. Ah! she was a dear old Asp to be rather a pleasure to hear him talked of by such a good
me. She did all that I wanted. I knew she would. I knew friend.’
that we should either go to the bottom together, or that she Charles, being somewhat more mindful of the probabili-
would be the making of me; and I never had two days of foul ties of the case, only nodded in reply, and walked away.
weather all the time I was at sea in her; and after taking pri- The girls were now hunting for the Laconia; and Captain
vateers enough to be very entertaining, I had the good luck Wentworth could not deny himself the pleasure of taking
in my passage home the next autumn, to fall in with the very the precious volume into his own hands to save them the
French frigate I wanted. I brought her into Plymouth; and trouble, and once more read aloud the little statement of her
here another instance of luck. We had not been six hours in name and rate, and present non-commissioned class, ob-
the Sound, when a gale came on, which lasted four days and serving over it that she too had been one of the best friends
nights, and which would have done for poor old Asp in half man ever had.

‘Ah! those were pleasant days when I had the Laconia! another moment he was perfectly collected and serious, and
How fast I made money in her. A friend of mine and I had almost instantly afterwards coming up to the sofa, on which
such a lovely cruise together off the Western Islands. Poor she and Mrs Musgrove were sitting, took a place by the latter,
Harville, sister! You know how much he wanted money: and entered into conversation with her, in a low voice, about
worse than myself. He had a wife. Excellent fellow. I shall her son, doing it with so much sympathy and natural grace,
never forget his happiness. He felt it all, so much for her sake. as shewed the kindest consideration for all that was real and
I wished for him again the next summer, when I had still the unabsurd in the parent’s feelings.
same luck in the Mediterranean.’ They were actually on the same sofa, for Mrs Musgrove
‘And I am sure, Sir.’ said Mrs Musgrove, ‘it was a lucky had most readily made room for him; they were divided
day for us, when you were put captain into that ship. We only by Mrs Musgrove. It was no insignificant barrier, in-
shall never forget what you did.’ deed. Mrs Musgrove was of a comfortable, substantial size,
Her feelings made her speak low; and Captain Went- infinitely more fitted by nature to express good cheer and
worth, hearing only in part, and probably not having Dick good humour, than tenderness and sentiment; and while the
Musgrove at all near his thoughts, looked rather in suspense, agitations of Anne’s slender form, and pensive face, may be
and as if waiting for more. considered as very completely screened, Captain Wentworth
‘My brother,’ whispered one of the girls; ‘mamma is think- should be allowed some credit for the self-command with
ing of poor Richard.’ which he attended to her large fat sighings over the destiny
‘Poor dear fellow!’ continued Mrs Musgrove; ‘he was of a son, whom alive nobody had cared for.
grown so steady, and such an excellent correspondent, while Personal size and mental sorrow have certainly no nec-
he was under your care! Ah! it would have been a happy essary proportions. A large bulky figure has as good a right
thing, if he had never left you. I assure you, Captain Went- to be in deep affliction, as the most graceful set of limbs in
worth, we are very sorry he ever left you.’ the world. But, fair or not fair, there are unbecoming con-
There was a momentary expression in Captain Went- junctions, which reason will patronize in vain— which taste
worth’s face at this speech, a certain glance of his bright eye, cannot tolerate—which ridicule will seize.
and curl of his handsome mouth, which convinced Anne, The Admiral, after taking two or three refreshing turns
that instead of sharing in Mrs Musgrove’s kind wishes, as to about the room with his hands behind him, being called to
her son, he had probably been at some pains to get rid of him; order by his wife, now came up to Captain Wentworth, and
but it was too transient an indulgence of self-amusement to without any observation of what he might be interrupting,
be detected by any who understood him less than herself; in thinking only of his own thoughts, began with—

‘If you had been a week later at Lisbon, last spring, Fred- board.’
erick, you would have been asked to give a passage to Lady ‘But you, yourself, brought Mrs Harville, her sister, her
Mary Grierson and her daughters.’ cousin, and three children, round from Portsmouth to
‘Should I? I am glad I was not a week later then.’ Plymouth. Where was this superfine, extraordinary sort of
The Admiral abused him for his want of gallantry. He gallantry of yours then?’
defended himself; though professing that he would never ‘All merged in my friendship, Sophia. I would assist any
willingly admit any ladies on board a ship of his, excepting brother officer’s wife that I could, and I would bring any-
for a ball, or a visit, which a few hours might comprehend. thing of Harville’s from the world’s end, if he wanted it. But
‘But, if I know myself,’ said he, ‘this is from no want of do not imagine that I did not feel it an evil in itself.’
gallantry towards them. It is rather from feeling how im- ‘Depend upon it, they were all perfectly comfortable.’
possible it is, with all one’s efforts, and all one’s sacrifices, to ‘I might not like them the better for that perhaps. Such a
make the accommodations on board such as women ought number of women and children have no right to be comfort-
to have. There can be no want of gallantry, Admiral, in rat- able on board.’
ing the claims of women to every personal comfort high, and ‘My dear Frederick, you are talking quite idly. Pray, what
this is what I do. I hate to hear of women on board, or to see would become of us poor sailors’ wives, who often want to
them on board; and no ship under my command shall ever be conveyed to one port or another, after our husbands, if
convey a family of ladies anywhere, if I can help it.’ everybody had your feelings?’
This brought his sister upon him. ‘My feelings, you see, did not prevent my taking Mrs Har-
‘Oh! Frederick! But I cannot believe it of you. —All idle ville and all her family to Plymouth.’
refinement! —Women may be as comfortable on board, as ‘But I hate to hear you talking so like a fine gentleman,
in the best house in England. I believe I have lived as much and as if women were all fine ladies, instead of rational crea-
on board as most women, and I know nothing superior to tures. We none of us expect to be in smooth water all our
the accommodations of a man-of-war. I declare I have not a days.’
comfort or an indulgence about me, even at Kellynch Hall,’ ‘Ah! my dear,’ said the Admiral, ‘when he had got a wife,
(with a kind bow to Anne), ‘beyond what I always had in he will sing a different tune. When he is married, if we have
most of the ships I have lived in; and they have been five al- the good luck to live to another war, we shall see him do as
together.’ you and I, and a great many others, have done. We shall have
‘Nothing to the purpose,’ replied her brother. ‘You were him very thankful to anybody that will bring him his wife.’
living with your husband, and were the only woman on ‘Ay, that we shall.’

‘Now I have done,’ cried Captain Wentworth. ‘When going to sea, but never knew what sickness was afterwards.
once married people begin to attack me with,—‘Oh! you will The only time I ever really suffered in body or mind, the only
think very differently, when you are married.’ I can only say, time that I ever fancied myself unwell, or had any ideas of
‘No, I shall not;’ and then they say again, ‘Yes, you will,’ and danger, was the winter that I passed by myself at Deal, when
there is an end of it.’ the Admiral (Captain Croft then) was in the North Seas. I
He got up and moved away. lived in perpetual fright at that time, and had all manner of
‘What a great traveller you must have been, ma’am!’ said imaginary complaints from not knowing what to do with
Mrs Musgrove to Mrs Croft. myself, or when I should hear from him next; but as long as
‘Pretty well, ma’am in the fifteen years of my marriage; we could be together, nothing ever ailed me, and I never met
though many women have done more. I have crossed the At- with the smallest inconvenience.’
lantic four times, and have been once to the East Indies, and ‘Aye, to be sure. Yes, indeed, oh yes! I am quite of your
back again, and only once; besides being in different places opinion, Mrs Croft,’ was Mrs Musgrove’s hearty answer.
about home: Cork, and Lisbon, and Gibraltar. But I never ‘There is nothing so bad as a separation. I am quite of your
went beyond the Streights, and never was in the West Indies. opinion. I know what it is, for Mr Musgrove always attends
We do not call Bermuda or Bahama, you know, the West the assizes, and I am so glad when they are over, and he is
Indies.’ safe back again.’
Mrs Musgrove had not a word to say in dissent; she could The evening ended with dancing. On its being proposed,
not accuse herself of having ever called them anything in the Anne offered her services, as usual; and though her eyes
whole course of her life. would sometimes fill with tears as she sat at the instrument,
‘And I do assure you, ma’am,’ pursued Mrs Croft, ‘that she was extremely glad to be employed, and desired nothing
nothing can exceed the accommodations of a man-of-war; in return but to be unobserved.
I speak, you know, of the higher rates. When you come to It was a merry, joyous party, and no one seemed in higher
a frigate, of course, you are more confined; though any rea- spirits than Captain Wentworth. She felt that he had every
sonable woman may be perfectly happy in one of them; and I thing to elevate him which general attention and deference,
can safely say, that the happiest part of my life has been spent and especially the attention of all the young women, could
on board a ship. While we were together, you know, there do. The Miss Hayters, the females of the family of cousins al-
was nothing to be feared. Thank God! I have always been ready mentioned, were apparently admitted to the honour of
blessed with excellent health, and no climate disagrees with being in love with him; and as for Henrietta and Louisa, they
me. A little disordered always the first twenty-four hours of both seemed so entirely occupied by him, that nothing but

the continued appearance of the most perfect good-will be-
tween themselves could have made it credible that they were Chapter 9
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 Captain Wentworth was come to Kellynch as to a home,
half an hour together, equally without error, and without to stay as long as he liked, being as thoroughly the object
consciousness. Once she felt that he was looking at herself, of the Admiral’s fraternal kindness as of his wife’s. He had
observing her altered features, perhaps, trying to trace in intended, on first arriving, to proceed very soon into Shrop-
them the ruins of the face which had once charmed him; shire, and visit the brother settled in that country, but the
and once she knew that he must have spoken of her; she was attractions of Uppercross induced him to put this off. There
hardly aware of it, till she heard the answer; but then she was so much of friendliness, and of flattery, and of every-
was sure of his having asked his partner whether Miss El- thing most bewitching in his reception there; the old were
liot never danced? The answer was, ‘Oh, no; never; she has so hospitable, the young so agreeable, that he could not but
quite given up dancing. She had rather play. She is never resolve to remain where he was, and take all the charms and
tired of playing.’ Once, too, he spoke to her. She had left the perfections of Edward’s wife upon credit a little longer.
instrument on the dancing being over, and he had sat down It was soon Uppercross with him almost every day. The
to try to make out an air which he wished to give the Miss Musgroves could hardly be more ready to invite than he to
Musgroves an idea of. Unintentionally she returned to that come, particularly in the morning, when he had no compan-
part of the room; he saw her, and, instantly rising, said, with ion at home, for the Admiral and Mrs Croft were generally
studied politeness— out of doors together, interesting themselves in their new
‘I beg your pardon, madam, this is your seat;’ and though possessions, their grass, and their sheep, and dawdling
she immediately drew back with a decided negative, he was about in a way not endurable to a third person, or driving
not to be induced to sit down again. out in a gig, lately added to their establishment.
Anne did not wish for more of such looks and speeches. Hitherto there had been but one opinion of Captain
His cold politeness, his ceremonious grace, were worse than Wentworth among the Musgroves and their dependen-
anything. cies. 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 Charles’s attentions to Henrietta had been observed by her
much in the way. father and mother without any disapprobation. ‘It would
Charles Hayter was the eldest of all the cousins, and a not be a great match for her; but if Henrietta liked him,’—
very amiable, pleasing young man, between whom and and Henrietta did seem to like him.
Henrietta there had been a considerable appearance of at- Henrietta fully thought so herself, before Captain Went-
tachment previous to Captain Wentworth’s introduction. worth came; but from that time Cousin Charles had been
He was in orders; and having a curacy in the neighbour- very much forgotten.
hood, where residence was not required, lived at his father’s Which of the two sisters was preferred by Captain Went-
house, only two miles from Uppercross. A short absence worth was as yet quite doubtful, as far as Anne’s observation
from home had left his fair one unguarded by his attentions reached. Henrietta was perhaps the prettiest, Louisa had
at this critical period, and when he came back he had the the higher spirits; and she knew not now, whether the more
pain of finding very altered manners, and of seeing Captain gentle or the more lively character were most likely to at-
Wentworth. tract him.
Mrs Musgrove and Mrs Hayter were sisters. They had Mr and Mrs Musgrove, either from seeing little, or from
each had money, but their marriages had made a material an entire confidence in the discretion of both their daugh-
difference in their degree of consequence. Mr Hayter had ters, and of all the young men who came near them, seemed
some property of his own, but it was insignificant com- to leave everything to take its chance. There was not the
pared with Mr Musgrove’s; and while the Musgroves were smallest appearance of solicitude or remark about them in
in the first class of society in the country, the young Hayters the Mansion-house; but it was different at the Cottage: the
would, from their parents’ inferior, retired, and unpolished young couple there were more disposed to speculate and
way of living, and their own defective education, have been wonder; and Captain Wentworth had not been above four
hardly in any class at all, but for their connexion with Up- or five times in the Miss Musgroves’ company, and Charles
percross, this eldest son of course excepted, who had chosen Hayter had but just reappeared, when Anne had to listen to
to be a scholar and a gentleman, and who was very superior the opinions of her brother and sister, as to which was the
in cultivation and manners to all the rest. one liked best. Charles gave it for Louisa, Mary for Henri-
The two families had always been on excellent terms, etta, but quite agreeing that to have him marry either could
there being no pride on one side, and no envy on the oth- be extremely delightful.
er, and only such a consciousness of superiority in the Miss Charles ‘had never seen a pleasanter man in his life; and
Musgroves, as made them pleased to improve their cousins. from what he had once heard Captain Wentworth himself

say, was very sure that he had not made less than twenty match for Miss Musgrove of Uppercross.’
thousand pounds by the war. Here was a fortune at once; Her husband, however, would not agree with her here;
besides which, there would be the chance of what might be for besides having a regard for his cousin, Charles Hayter
done in any future war; and he was sure Captain Wentworth was an eldest son, and he saw things as an eldest son him-
was as likely a man to distinguish himself as any officer in self.
the navy. Oh! it would be a capital match for either of his ‘Now you are taking nonsense, Mary,’ was therefore his
sisters.’ answer. ‘It would not be a great match for Henrietta, but
‘Upon my word it would,’ replied Mary. ‘Dear me! If he Charles has a very fair chance, through the Spicers, of get-
should rise to any very great honours! If he should ever be ting something from the Bishop in the course of a year or
made a baronet! ‘Lady Wentworth’ sounds very well. That two; and you will please to remember, that he is the eldest
would be a noble thing, indeed, for Henrietta! She would son; whenever my uncle dies, he steps into very pretty prop-
take place of me then, and Henrietta would not dislike that. erty. The estate at Winthrop is not less than two hundred
Sir Frederick and Lady Wentworth! It would be but a new and fifty acres, besides the farm near Taunton, which is
creation, however, and I never think much of your new cre- some of the best land in the country. I grant you, that any
ations.’ of them but Charles would be a very shocking match for
It suited Mary best to think Henrietta the one preferred Henrietta, and indeed it could not be; he is the only one that
on the very account of Charles Hayter, whose pretensions could be possible; but he is a very good-natured, good sort
she wished to see put an end to. She looked down very de- of a fellow; and whenever Winthrop comes into his hands,
cidedly upon the Hayters, and thought it would be quite he will make a different sort of place of it, and live in a very
a misfortune to have the existing connection between the different sort of way; and with that property, he will never
families renewed—very sad for herself and her children. be a contemptible man—good, freehold property. No, no;
‘You know,’ said she, ‘I cannot think him at all a fit match Henrietta might do worse than marry Charles Hayter; and
for Henrietta; and considering the alliances which the Mus- if she has him, and Louisa can get Captain Wentworth, I
groves have made, she has no right to throw herself away. I shall be very well satisfied.’
do not think any young woman has a right to make a choice ‘Charles may say what he pleases,’ cried Mary to Anne, as
that may be disagreeable and inconvenient to the principal soon as he was out of the room, ‘but it would be shocking to
part of her family, and be giving bad connections to those have Henrietta marry Charles Hayter; a very bad thing for
who have not been used to them. And, pray, who is Charles her, and still worse for me; and therefore it is very much to
Hayter? Nothing but a country curate. A most improper be wished that Captain Wentworth may soon put him quite

out of her head, and I have very little doubt that he has. She tify him in his cousin’s behaviour. She had too old a regard
took hardly any notice of Charles Hayter yesterday. I wish for him to be so wholly estranged as might in two meet-
you had been there to see her behaviour. And as to Captain ings extinguish every past hope, and leave him nothing to
Wentworth’s liking Louisa as well as Henrietta, it is non- do but to keep away from Uppercross: but there was such a
sense to say so; for he certainly does like Henrietta a great change as became very alarming, when such a man as Cap-
deal the best. But Charles is so positive! I wish you had been tain Wentworth was to be regarded as the probable cause.
with us yesterday, for then you might have decided between He had been absent only two Sundays, and when they part-
us; and I am sure you would have thought as I did, unless ed, had left her interested, even to the height of his wishes,
you had been determined to give it against me.’ in his prospect of soon quitting his present curacy, and ob-
A dinner at Mr Musgrove’s had been the occasion when taining that of Uppercross instead. It had then seemed the
all these things should have been seen by Anne; but she had object nearest her heart, that Dr Shirley, the rector, who for
staid at home, under the mixed plea of a headache of her more than forty years had been zealously discharging all
own, and some return of indisposition in little Charles. She the duties of his office, but was now growing too infirm for
had thought only of avoiding Captain Wentworth; but an many of them, should be quite fixed on engaging a curate;
escape from being appealed to as umpire was now added to should make his curacy quite as good as he could afford,
the advantages of a quiet evening. and should give Charles Hayter the promise of it. The ad-
As to Captain Wentworth’s views, she deemed it of vantage of his having to come only to Uppercross, instead of
more consequence that he should know his own mind early going six miles another way; of his having, in every respect,
enough not to be endangering the happiness of either sister, a better curacy; of his belonging to their dear Dr Shirley,
or impeaching his own honour, than that he should prefer and of dear, good Dr Shirley’s being relieved from the duty
Henrietta to Louisa, or Louisa to Henrietta. Either of them which he could no longer get through without most injuri-
would, in all probability, make him an affectionate, good- ous fatigue, had been a great deal, even to Louisa, but had
humoured wife. With regard to Charles Hayter, she had been almost everything to Henrietta. When he came back,
delicacy which must be pained by any lightness of conduct alas! the zeal of the business was gone by. Louisa could not
in a well-meaning young woman, and a heart to sympathize listen at all to his account of a conversation which he had
in any of the sufferings it occasioned; but if Henrietta found just held with Dr Shirley: she was at a window, looking out
herself mistaken in the nature of her feelings, the alterna- for Captain Wentworth; and even Henrietta had at best only
tion could not be understood too soon. a divided attention to give, and seemed to have forgotten all
Charles Hayter had met with much to disquiet and mor- the former doubt and solicitude of the negotiation.

‘Well, I am very glad indeed: but I always thought you easy—Charles Hayter, probably not at all better pleased by
would have it; I always thought you sure. It did not appear to the sight of Captain Wentworth than Captain Wentworth
me that—in short, you know, Dr Shirley must have a curate, had been by the sight of Anne.
and you had secured his promise. Is he coming, Louisa?’ She only attempted to say, ‘How do you do? Will you not
One morning, very soon after the dinner at the Mus- sit down? The others will be here presently.’
groves, at which Anne had not been present, Captain Captain Wentworth, however, came from his window,
Wentworth walked into the drawing-room at the Cottage, apparently not ill-disposed for conversation; but Charles
where were only herself and the little invalid Charles, who Hayter soon put an end to his attempts by seating himself
was lying on the sofa. near the table, and taking up the newspaper; and Captain
The surprise of finding himself almost alone with Anne Wentworth returned to his window.
Elliot, deprived his manners of their usual composure: he Another minute brought another addition. The young-
started, and could only say, ‘I thought the Miss Musgroves er boy, a remarkable stout, forward child, of two years old,
had been here: Mrs Musgrove told me I should find them having got the door opened for him by some one without,
here,’ before he walked to the window to recollect himself, made his determined appearance among them, and went
and feel how he ought to behave. straight to the sofa to see what was going on, and put in his
‘They are up stairs with my sister: they will be down in claim to anything good that might be giving away.
a few moments, I dare say,’ had been Anne’s reply, in all the There being nothing to eat, he could only have some play;
confusion that was natural; and if the child had not called and as his aunt would not let him tease his sick brother, he
her to come and do something for him, she would have been began to fasten himself upon her, as she knelt, in such a way
out of the room the next moment, and released Captain that, busy as she was about Charles, she could not shake
Wentworth as well as herself. him off. She spoke to him, ordered, entreated, and insisted
He continued at the window; and after calmly and po- in vain. Once she did contrive to push him away, but the
litely saying, ‘I hope the little boy is better,’ was silent. boy had the greater pleasure in getting upon her back again
She was obliged to kneel down by the sofa, and remain directly.
there to satisfy her patient; and thus they continued a few ‘Walter,’ said she, ‘get down this moment. You are ex-
minutes, when, to her very great satisfaction, she heard tremely troublesome. I am very angry with you.’
some other person crossing the little vestibule. She hoped, ‘Walter,’ cried Charles Hayter, ‘why do you not do as you
on turning her head, to see the master of the house; but it are bid? Do not you hear your aunt speak? Come to me,
proved to be one much less calculated for making matters Walter, come to cousin Charles.’

But not a bit did Walter stir. Charles Hayter’s feelings, nor anybody’s feelings, could in-
In another moment, however, she found herself in the terest her, till she had a little better arranged her own. She
state of being released from him; some one was taking him was ashamed of herself, quite ashamed of being so nervous,
from her, though he had bent down her head so much, that so overcome by such a trifle; but so it was, and it required a
his little sturdy hands were unfastened from around her long application of solitude and reflection to recover 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 tes-
tify 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 pa-
tient 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

Chapter 10 to quit the field. Three days had passed without his com-
ing 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
Other opportunities of making her observations could all could not be right, and talked, with grave faces, of his
not fail to occur. Anne had soon been in company with all studying himself to death. It was Mary’s hope and belief
the four together often enough to have an opinion, though that he had received a positive dismissal from Henrietta,
too wise to acknowledge as much at home, where she knew and her husband lived under the constant dependence of
it would have satisfied neither husband nor wife; for while seeing him to-morrow. Anne could only feel that Charles
she considered Louisa to be rather the favourite, she could Hayter was wise.
not but think, as far as she might dare to judge from mem- One morning, about this time Charles Musgrove and
ory and experience, that Captain Wentworth was not in Captain Wentworth being gone a-shooting together, as
love with either. They were more in love with him; yet there the sisters in the Cottage were sitting quietly at work, they
it was not love. It was a little fever of admiration; but it were visited at the window by the sisters from the Mansion-
might, probably must, end in love with some. Charles Hay- house.
ter seemed aware of being slighted, and yet Henrietta had It was a very fine November day, and the Miss Musgroves
sometimes the air of being divided between them. Anne came through the little grounds, and stopped for no oth-
longed for the power of representing to them all what they er purpose than to say, that they were going to take a long
were about, and of pointing out some of the evils they were walk, and therefore concluded Mary could not like to go
exposing themselves to. She did not attribute guile to any. It with them; and when Mary immediately replied, with some
was the highest satisfaction to her to believe Captain Went- jealousy at not being supposed a good walker, ‘Oh, yes, I
worth not in the least aware of the pain he was occasioning. should like to join you very much, I am very fond of a long
There was no triumph, no pitiful triumph in his manner. walk;’ Anne felt persuaded, by the looks of the two girls,
He had, probably, never heard, and never thought of any that it was precisely what they did not wish, and admired
claims of Charles Hayter. He was only wrong in accept- again the sort of necessity which the family habits seemed
ing the attentions (for accepting must be the word) of two to produce, of everything being to be communicated, and
young women at once. everything being to be done together, however undesired
After a short struggle, however, Charles Hayter seemed and inconvenient. She tried to dissuade Mary from going,

but in vain; and that being the case, thought it best to accept influence on the mind of taste and tenderness, that season
the Miss Musgroves’ much more cordial invitation to her- which had drawn from every poet, worthy of being read,
self to go likewise, as she might be useful in turning back some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling. She
with her sister, and lessening the interference in any plan occupied her mind as much as possible in such like musings
of their own. and quotations; but it was not possible, that when within
‘I cannot imagine why they should suppose I should not reach of Captain Wentworth’s conversation with either of
like a long walk,’ said Mary, as she went up stairs. ‘Every- the Miss Musgroves, she should not try to hear it; yet she
body is always supposing that I am not a good walker; and caught little very remarkable. It was mere lively chat, such
yet they would not have been pleased, if we had refused to as any young persons, on an intimate footing, might fall
join them. When people come in this manner on purpose to into. He was more engaged with Louisa than with Henri-
ask us, how can one say no?’ etta. Louisa certainly put more forward for his notice than
Just as they were setting off, the gentlemen returned. her sister. This distinction appeared to increase, and there
They had taken out a young dog, who had spoilt their sport, was one speech of Louisa’s which struck her. After one of the
and sent them back early. Their time and strength, and spir- many praises of the day, which were continually bursting
its, were, therefore, exactly ready for this walk, and they forth, Captain Wentworth added: —
entered into it with pleasure. Could Anne have foreseen ‘What glorious weather for the Admiral and my sister!
such a junction, she would have staid at home; but, from They meant to take a long drive this morning; perhaps we
some feelings of interest and curiosity, she fancied now that may hail them from some of these hills. They talked of com-
it was too late to retract, and the whole six set forward to- ing into this side of the country. I wonder whereabouts they
gether in the direction chosen by the Miss Musgroves, who will upset to-day. Oh! it does happen very often, I assure
evidently considered the walk as under their guidance. you; but my sister makes nothing of it; she would as lieve be
Anne’s object was, not to be in the way of anybody; and tossed out as not.’
where the narrow paths across the fields made many sepa- ‘Ah! You make the most of it, I know,’ cried Louisa, ‘but
rations necessary, to keep with her brother and sister. Her if it were really so, I should do just the same in her place.
pleasure in the walk must arise from the exercise and the If I loved a man, as she loves the Admiral, I would always
day, from the view of the last smiles of the year upon the be with him, nothing should ever separate us, and I would
tawny leaves, and withered hedges, and from repeating to rather be overturned by him, than driven safely by anybody
herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions ex- else.’
tant of autumn, that season of peculiar and inexhaustible It was spoken with enthusiasm.

‘Had you?’ cried he, catching the same tone; ‘I honour grove, and ‘No, no!’ cried Louisa more eagerly, and taking
you!’ And there was silence between them for a little while. her sister aside, seemed to be arguing the matter warmly.
Anne could not immediately fall into a quotation again. Charles, in the meanwhile, was very decidedly declaring
The sweet scenes of autumn were for a while put by, unless his resolution of calling on his aunt, now that he was so near;
some tender sonnet, fraught with the apt analogy of the de- and very evidently, though more fearfully, trying to induce
clining year, with declining happiness, and the images of his wife to go too. But this was one of the points on which
youth and hope, and spring, all gone together, blessed her the lady shewed her strength; and when he recommended
memory. She roused herself to say, as they struck by order the advantage of resting herself a quarter of an hour at Win-
into another path, ‘Is not this one of the ways to Winthrop?’ throp, as she felt so tired, she resolutely answered, ‘Oh! no,
But nobody heard, or, at least, nobody answered her. indeed! walking up that hill again would do her more harm
Winthrop, however, or its environs—for young men are, than any sitting down could do her good;’ and, in short, her
sometimes to be met with, strolling about near home—was look and manner declared, that go she would not.
their destination; and after another half mile of gradual as- After a little succession of these sort of debates and
cent through large enclosures, where the ploughs at work, consultations, it was settled between Charles and his two
and the fresh made path spoke the farmer counteracting sisters, that he and Henrietta should just run down for a
the sweets of poetical despondence, and meaning to have few minutes, to see their aunt and cousins, while the rest
spring again, they gained the summit of the most consider- of the party waited for them at the top of the hill. Louisa
able hill, which parted Uppercross and Winthrop, and soon seemed the principal arranger of the plan; and, as she went a
commanded a full view of the latter, at the foot of the hill little way with them, down the hill, still talking to Henriet-
on the other side. ta, Mary took the opportunity of looking scornfully around
Winthrop, without beauty and without dignity, was her, and saying to Captain Wentworth—
stretched before them an indifferent house, standing low, ‘It is very unpleasant, having such connexions! But, I as-
and hemmed in by the barns and buildings of a farm-yard. sure you, I have never been in the house above twice in my
Mary exclaimed, ‘Bless me! here is Winthrop. I declare life.’
I had no idea! Well now, I think we had better turn back; I She received no other answer, than an artificial, assent-
am excessively tired.’ ing smile, followed by a contemptuous glance, as he turned
Henrietta, conscious and ashamed, and seeing no cousin away, which Anne perfectly knew the meaning of.
Charles walking along any path, or leaning against any gate, The brow of the hill, where they remained, was a cheer-
was ready to do as Mary wished; but ‘No!’ said Charles Mus- ful spot: Louisa returned; and Mary, finding a comfortable

seat for herself on the step of a stile, was very well satisfied was as near giving it up, out of nonsensical complaisance!’
so long as the others all stood about her; but when Louisa ‘She would have turned back then, but for you?’
drew Captain Wentworth away, to try for a gleaning of nuts ‘She would indeed. I am almost ashamed to say it.’
in an adjoining hedge-row, and they were gone by degrees ‘Happy for her, to have such a mind as yours at hand! Af-
quite out of sight and sound, Mary was happy no longer; ter the hints you gave just now, which did but confirm my
she quarrelled with her own seat, was sure Louisa had got own observations, the last time I was in company with him,
a much better somewhere, and nothing could prevent her I need not affect to have no comprehension of what is going
from going to look for a better also. She turned through the on. I see that more than a mere dutiful morning visit to your
same gate, but could not see them. Anne found a nice seat aunt was in question; and woe betide him, and her too, when
for her, on a dry sunny bank, under the hedge-row, in which it comes to things of consequence, when they are placed in
she had no doubt of their still being, in some spot or other. circumstances requiring fortitude and strength of mind, if
Mary sat down for a moment, but it would not do; she was she have not resolution enough to resist idle interference in
sure Louisa had found a better seat somewhere else, and she such a trifle as this. Your sister is an amiable creature; but
would go on till she overtook her. yours is the character of decision and firmness, I see. If you
Anne, really tired herself, was glad to sit down; and she value her conduct or happiness, infuse as much of your own
very soon heard Captain Wentworth and Louisa in the spirit into her as you can. But this, no doubt, you have been
hedge-row, behind her, as if making their way back along always doing. It is the worst evil of too yielding and indeci-
the rough, wild sort of channel, down the centre. They were sive a character, that no influence over it can be depended
speaking as they drew near. Louisa’s voice was the first dis- on. You are never sure of a good impression being dura-
tinguished. She seemed to be in the middle of some eager ble; everybody may sway it. Let those who would be happy
speech. What Anne first heard was— be firm. Here is a nut,’ said he, catching one down from an
‘And so, I made her go. I could not bear that she should upper bough. ‘to exemplify: a beautiful glossy nut, which,
be frightened from the visit by such nonsense. What! would blessed with original strength, has outlived all the storms
I be turned back from doing a thing that I had determined of autumn. Not a puncture, not a weak spot anywhere. This
to do, and that I knew to be right, by the airs and interfer- nut,’ he continued, with playful solemnity, ‘while so many
ence of such a person, or of any person I may say? No, I have of his brethren have fallen and been trodden under foot, is
no idea of being so easily persuaded. When I have made up still in possession of all the happiness that a hazel nut can be
my mind, I have made it; and Henrietta seemed entirely to supposed capable of.’ Then returning to his former earnest
have made up hers to call at Winthrop to-day; and yet, she tone— ‘My first wish for all whom I am interested in, is that

they should be firm. If Louisa Musgrove would be beautiful The sounds were retreating, and Anne distinguished no
and happy in her November of life, she will cherish all her more. Her own emotions still kept her fixed. She had much
present powers of mind.’ to recover from, before she could move. The listener’s pro-
He had done, and was unanswered. It would have sur- verbial fate was not absolutely hers; she had heard no evil
prised Anne if Louisa could have readily answered such a of herself, but she had heard a great deal of very painful
speech: words of such interest, spoken with such serious import. She saw how her own character was considered by
warmth! She could imagine what Louisa was feeling. For Captain Wentworth, and there had been just that degree of
herself, she feared to move, lest she should be seen. While feeling and curiosity about her in his manner which must
she remained, a bush of low rambling holly protected her, give her extreme agitation.
and they were moving on. Before they were beyond her As soon as she could, she went after Mary, and having
hearing, however, Louisa spoke again. found, and walked back with her to their former station, by
‘Mary is good-natured enough in many respects,’ said the stile, felt some comfort in their whole party being im-
she; ‘but she does sometimes provoke me excessively, by her mediately afterwards collected, and once more in motion
nonsense and pride—the Elliot pride. She has a great deal together. Her spirits wanted the solitude and silence which
too much of the Elliot pride. We do so wish that Charles only numbers could give.
had married Anne instead. I suppose you know he wanted Charles and Henrietta returned, bringing, as may be
to marry Anne?’ conjectured, Charles Hayter with them. The minutiae of
After a moment’s pause, Captain Wentworth said— the business Anne could not attempt to understand; even
‘Do you mean that she refused him?’ Captain Wentworth did not seem admitted to perfect con-
‘Oh! yes; certainly.’ fidence here; but that there had been a withdrawing on the
‘When did that happen?’ gentleman’s side, and a relenting on the lady’s, and that
‘I do not exactly know, for Henrietta and I were at school they were now very glad to be together again, did not ad-
at the time; but I believe about a year before he married mit a doubt. Henrietta looked a little ashamed, but very
Mary. I wish she had accepted him. We should all have well pleased;— Charles Hayter exceedingly happy: and they
liked her a great deal better; and papa and mamma always were devoted to each other almost from the first instant of
think it was her great friend Lady Russell’s doing, that she their all setting forward for Uppercross.
did not. They think Charles might not be learned and book- Everything now marked out Louisa for Captain Went-
ish enough to please Lady Russell, and that therefore, she worth; nothing could be plainer; and where many divisions
persuaded Anne to refuse him.’ were necessary, or even where they were not, they walked

side by side nearly as much as the other two. In a long strip fore any of the others, or what Louisa called the Elliot pride
of meadow land, where there was ample space for all, they could not endure to make a third in a one horse chaise.
were thus divided, forming three distinct parties; and to The walking party had crossed the lane, and were sur-
that party of the three which boasted least animation, and mounting an opposite stile, and the Admiral was putting his
least complaisance, Anne necessarily belonged. She joined horse in motion again, when Captain Wentworth cleared
Charles and Mary, and was tired enough to be very glad the hedge in a moment to say something to his sister. The
of Charles’s other arm; but Charles, though in very good something might be guessed by its effects.
humour with her, was out of temper with his wife. Mary ‘Miss Elliot, I am sure you are tired,’ cried Mrs Croft. ‘Do
had shewn herself disobliging to him, and was now to reap let us have the pleasure of taking you home. Here is excel-
the consequence, which consequence was his dropping her lent room for three, I assure you. If we were all like you, I
arm almost every moment to cut off the heads of some net- believe we might sit four. You must, indeed, you must.’
tles in the hedge with his switch; and when Mary began to Anne was still in the lane; and though instinctively be-
complain of it, and lament her being ill-used, according to ginning to decline, she was not allowed to proceed. The
custom, in being on the hedge side, while Anne was never Admiral’s kind urgency came in support of his wife’s; they
incommoded on the other, he dropped the arms of both to would not be refused; they compressed themselves into the
hunt after a weasel which he had a momentary glance of, smallest possible space to leave her a corner, and Captain
and they could hardly get him along at all. Wentworth, without saying a word, turned to her, and qui-
This long meadow bordered a lane, which their footpath, etly obliged her to be assisted into the carriage.
at the end of it was to cross, and when the party had all Yes; he had done it. She was in the carriage, and felt that
reached the gate of exit, the carriage advancing in the same he had placed her there, that his will and his hands had
direction, which had been some time heard, was just com- done it, that she owed it to his perception of her fatigue, and
ing up, and proved to be Admiral Croft’s gig. He and his his resolution to give her rest. She was very much affected
wife had taken their intended drive, and were returning by the view of his disposition towards her, which all these
home. Upon hearing how long a walk the young people had things made apparent. This little circumstance seemed the
engaged in, they kindly offered a seat to any lady who might completion of all that had gone before. She understood
be particularly tired; it would save her a full mile, and they him. He could not forgive her, but he could not be unfeel-
were going through Uppercross. The invitation was general, ing. Though condemning her for the past, and considering
and generally declined. The Miss Musgroves were not at all it with high and unjust resentment, though perfectly care-
tired, and Mary was either offended, by not being asked be- less of her, and though becoming attached to another, still

he could not see her suffer, without the desire of giving her ladies to Kellynch. Then there would always be company for
relief. It was a remainder of former sentiment; it was an im- them. And very nice young ladies they both are; I hardly
pulse of pure, though unacknowledged friendship; it was a know one from the other.’
proof of his own warm and amiable heart, which she could ‘Very good humoured, unaffected girls, indeed,’ said Mrs
not contemplate without emotions so compounded of plea- Croft, in a tone of calmer praise, such as made Anne suspect
sure and pain, that she knew not which prevailed. that her keener powers might not consider either of them as
Her answers to the kindness and the remarks of her quite worthy of her brother; ‘and a very respectable family.
companions were at first unconsciously given. They had One could not be connected with better people. My dear
travelled half their way along the rough lane, before she was Admiral, that post! we shall certainly take that post.’
quite awake to what they said. She then found them talking But by coolly giving the reins a better direction herself
of ‘Frederick.’ they happily passed the danger; and by once afterwards ju-
‘He certainly means to have one or other of those two girls, diciously putting out her hand they neither fell into a rut,
Sophy,’ said the Admiral; ‘but there is no saying which. He nor ran foul of a dung-cart; and Anne, with some amuse-
has been running after them, too, long enough, one would ment at their style of driving, which she imagined no bad
think, to make up his mind. Ay, this comes of the peace. If it representation of the general guidance of their affairs, found
were war now, he would have settled it long ago. We sailors, herself safely deposited by them at the Cottage.
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 persuad-
ed 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 lit-
tle more canvass, and bring us home one of these young

Chapter 11 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
The time now approached for Lady Russell’s return: the she had nothing else to stay for.
day was even fixed; and Anne, being engaged to join her as The conclusion of her visit, however, was diversified in a
soon as she was resettled, was looking forward to an early way which she had not at all imagined. Captain Wentworth,
removal to Kellynch, and beginning to think how her own after being unseen and unheard of at Uppercross for two
comfort was likely to be affected by it. whole days, appeared again among them to justify himself
It would place her in the same village with Captain by a relation of what had kept him away.
Wentworth, within half a mile of him; they would have to A letter from his friend, Captain Harville, having found
frequent the same church, and there must be intercourse him out at last, had brought intelligence of Captain Har-
between the two families. This was against her; but on the ville’s being settled with his family at Lyme for the winter;
other hand, he spent so much of his time at Uppercross, that of their being therefore, quite unknowingly, within twen-
in removing thence she might be considered rather as leav- ty miles of each other. Captain Harville had never been in
ing him behind, than as going towards him; and, upon the good health since a severe wound which he received two
whole, she believed she must, on this interesting question, years before, and Captain Wentworth’s anxiety to see him
be the gainer, almost as certainly as in her change of domes- had determined him to go immediately to Lyme. He had
tic society, in leaving poor Mary for Lady Russell. been there for four-and-twenty hours. His acquittal was
She wished it might be possible for her to avoid ever complete, his friendship warmly honoured, a lively interest
seeing Captain Wentworth at the Hall: those rooms had excited for his friend, and his description of the fine coun-
witnessed former meetings which would be brought too try about Lyme so feelingly attended to by the party, that an
painfully before her; but she was yet more anxious for the earnest desire to see Lyme themselves, and a project for go-
possibility of Lady Russell and Captain Wentworth never ing thither was the consequence.
meeting anywhere. They did not like each other, and no re- The young people were all wild to see Lyme. Captain
newal of acquaintance now could do any good; and were Wentworth talked of going there again himself, it was only
Lady Russell to see them together, she might think that he seventeen miles from Uppercross; though November, the
had too much self-possession, and she too little. weather was by no means bad; and, in short, Louisa, who

was the most eager of the eager, having formed the resolu- Lyme, as a public place, might offer. The rooms were shut
tion to go, and besides the pleasure of doing as she liked, up, the lodgers almost all gone, scarcely any family but of
being now armed with the idea of merit in maintaining her the residents left; and, as there is nothing to admire in the
own way, bore down all the wishes of her father and moth- buildings themselves, the remarkable situation of the town,
er for putting it off till summer; and to Lyme they were to the principal street almost hurrying into the water, the walk
go—Charles, Mary, Anne, Henrietta, Louisa, and Captain to the Cobb, skirting round the pleasant little bay, which, in
Wentworth. the season, is animated with bathing machines and compa-
The first heedless scheme had been to go in the morning ny; the Cobb itself, its old wonders and new improvements,
and return at night; but to this Mr Musgrove, for the sake with the very beautiful line of cliffs stretching out to the east
of his horses, would not consent; and when it came to be ra- of the town, are what the stranger’s eye will seek; and a very
tionally considered, a day in the middle of November would strange stranger it must be, who does not see charms in the
not leave much time for seeing a new place, after deduct- immediate environs of Lyme, to make him wish to know it
ing seven hours, as the nature of the country required, for better. The scenes in its neighbourhood, Charmouth, with
going and returning. They were, consequently, to stay the its high grounds and extensive sweeps of country, and still
night there, and not to be expected back till the next day’s more, its sweet, retired bay, backed by dark cliffs, where
dinner. This was felt to be a considerable amendment; and fragments of low rock among the sands, make it the hap-
though they all met at the Great House at rather an early piest spot for watching the flow of the tide, for sitting in
breakfast hour, and set off very punctually, it was so much unwearied contemplation; the woody varieties of the cheer-
past noon before the two carriages, Mr Musgrove’s coach ful village of Up Lyme; and, above all, Pinny, with its green
containing the four ladies, and Charles’s curricle, in which chasms between romantic rocks, where the scattered forest
he drove Captain Wentworth, were descending the long trees and orchards of luxuriant growth, declare that many a
hill into Lyme, and entering upon the still steeper street of generation must have passed away since the first partial fall-
the town itself, that it was very evident they would not have ing of the cliff prepared the ground for such a state, where a
more than time for looking about them, before the light and scene so wonderful and so lovely is exhibited, as may more
warmth of the day were gone. than equal any of the resembling scenes of the far-famed
After securing accommodations, and ordering a dinner Isle of Wight: these places must be visited, and visited again,
at one of the inns, the next thing to be done was unques- to make the worth of Lyme understood.
tionably to walk directly down to the sea. They were come The party from Uppercross passing down by the now
too late in the year for any amusement or variety which deserted and melancholy looking rooms, and still descend-

ing, soon found themselves on the sea-shore; and lingering woman than poor Benwick had been to Fanny Harville, or
only, as all must linger and gaze on a first return to the sea, to be more deeply afflicted under the dreadful change. He
who ever deserved to look on it at all, proceeded towards the considered his disposition as of the sort which must suf-
Cobb, equally their object in itself and on Captain Went- fer heavily, uniting very strong feelings with quiet, serious,
worth’s account: for in a small house, near the foot of an and retiring manners, and a decided taste for reading, and
old pier of unknown date, were the Harvilles settled. Cap- sedentary pursuits. To finish the interest of the story, the
tain Wentworth turned in to call on his friend; the others friendship between him and the Harvilles seemed, if pos-
walked on, and he was to join them on the Cobb. sible, augmented by the event which closed all their views
They were by no means tired of wondering and admir- of alliance, and Captain Benwick was now living with them
ing; and not even Louisa seemed to feel that they had parted entirely. Captain Harville had taken his present house for
with Captain Wentworth long, when they saw him coming half a year; his taste, and his health, and his fortune, all di-
after them, with three companions, all well known already, recting him to a residence inexpensive, and by the sea; and
by description, to be Captain and Mrs Harville, and a Cap- the grandeur of the country, and the retirement of Lyme in
tain Benwick, who was staying with them. the winter, appeared exactly adapted to Captain Benwick’s
Captain Benwick had some time ago been first lieutenant state of mind. The sympathy and good-will excited towards
of the Laconia; and the account which Captain Wentworth Captain Benwick was very great.
had given of him, on his return from Lyme before, his ‘And yet,’ said Anne to herself, as they now moved
warm praise of him as an excellent young man and an of- forward to meet the party, ‘he has not, perhaps, a more sor-
ficer, whom he had always valued highly, which must have rowing heart than I have. I cannot believe his prospects so
stamped him well in the esteem of every listener, had been blighted for ever. He is younger than I am; younger in feel-
followed by a little history of his private life, which rendered ing, if not in fact; younger as a man. He will rally again, and
him perfectly interesting in the eyes of all the ladies. He be happy with another.’
had been engaged to Captain Harville’s sister, and was now They all met, and were introduced. Captain Harville was
mourning her loss. They had been a year or two waiting a tall, dark man, with a sensible, benevolent countenance;
for fortune and promotion. Fortune came, his prize-mon- a little lame; and from strong features and want of health,
ey as lieutenant being great; promotion, too, came at last; looking much older than Captain Wentworth. Captain
but Fanny Harville did not live to know it. She had died Benwick looked, and was, the youngest of the three, and,
the preceding summer while he was at sea. Captain Went- compared with either of them, a little man. He had a pleas-
worth believed it impossible for man to be more attached to ing face and a melancholy air, just as he ought to have, and

drew back from conversation. the actual space to the best account, to supply the deficien-
Captain Harville, though not equalling Captain Went- cies of lodging-house furniture, and defend the windows
worth in manners, was a perfect gentleman, unaffected, and doors against the winter storms to be expected. The va-
warm, and obliging. Mrs Harville, a degree less polished rieties in the fitting-up of the rooms, where the common
than her husband, seemed, however, to have the same good necessaries provided by the owner, in the common indiffer-
feelings; and nothing could be more pleasant than their de- ent plight, were contrasted with some few articles of a rare
sire of considering the whole party as friends of their own, species of wood, excellently worked up, and with something
because the friends of Captain Wentworth, or more kind- curious and valuable from all the distant countries Captain
ly hospitable than their entreaties for their all promising to Harville had visited, were more than amusing to Anne;
dine with them. The dinner, already ordered at the inn, was connected as it all was with his profession, the fruit of its la-
at last, though unwillingly, accepted as a excuse; but they bours, the effect of its influence on his habits, the picture of
seemed almost hurt that Captain Wentworth should have repose and domestic happiness it presented, made it to her a
brought any such party to Lyme, without considering it as a something more, or less, than gratification.
thing of course that they should dine with them. Captain Harville was no reader; but he had contrived ex-
There was so much attachment to Captain Wentworth cellent accommodations, and fashioned very pretty shelves,
in all this, and such a bewitching charm in a degree of for a tolerable collection of well-bound volumes, the prop-
hospitality so uncommon, so unlike the usual style of give- erty of Captain Benwick. His lameness prevented him from
and-take invitations, and dinners of formality and display, taking much exercise; but a mind of usefulness and inge-
that Anne felt her spirits not likely to be benefited by an nuity seemed to furnish him with constant employment
increasing acquaintance among his brother-officers. ‘These within. He drew, he varnished, he carpentered, he glued;
would have been all my friends,’ was her thought; and she he made toys for the children; he fashioned new netting-
had to struggle against a great tendency to lowness. needles and pins with improvements; and if everything else
On quitting the Cobb, they all went in-doors with their was done, sat down to his large fishing-net at one corner of
new friends, and found rooms so small as none but those the room.
who invite from the heart could think capable of accommo- Anne thought she left great happiness behind her when
dating so many. Anne had a moment’s astonishment on the they quitted the house; and Louisa, by whom she found her-
subject herself; but it was soon lost in the pleasanter feelings self walking, burst forth into raptures of admiration and
which sprang from the sight of all the ingenious contriv- delight on the character of the navy; their friendliness, their
ances and nice arrangements of Captain Harville, to turn brotherliness, their openness, their uprightness; protesting

that she was convinced of sailors having more worth and shy, and disposed to abstraction; but the engaging mild-
warmth than any other set of men in England; that they ness of her countenance, and gentleness of her manners,
only knew how to live, and they only deserved to be respect- soon had their effect; and Anne was well repaid the first
ed and loved. trouble of exertion. He was evidently a young man of con-
They went back to dress and dine; and so well had the siderable taste in reading, though principally in poetry; and
scheme answered already, that nothing was found amiss; besides the persuasion of having given him at least an eve-
though its being ‘so entirely out of season,’ and the ‘no thor- ning’s indulgence in the discussion of subjects, which his
oughfare of Lyme,’ and the ‘no expectation of company,’ had usual companions had probably no concern in, she had the
brought many apologies from the heads of the inn. hope of being of real use to him in some suggestions as to
Anne found herself by this time growing so much more the duty and benefit of struggling against affliction, which
hardened to being in Captain Wentworth’s company than had naturally grown out of their conversation. For, though
she had at first imagined could ever be, that the sitting down shy, he did not seem reserved; it had rather the appearance
to the same table with him now, and the interchange of the of feelings glad to burst their usual restraints; and having
common civilities attending on it (they never got beyond), talked of poetry, the richness of the present age, and gone
was become a mere nothing. through a brief comparison of opinion as to the first-rate
The nights were too dark for the ladies to meet again till poets, trying to ascertain whether Marmion or The Lady of
the morrow, but Captain Harville had promised them a visit the Lake were to be preferred, and how ranked the Giaour
in the evening; and he came, bringing his friend also, which and The Bride of Abydos; and moreover, how the Giaour
was more than had been expected, it having been agreed was to be pronounced, he showed himself so intimately ac-
that Captain Benwick had all the appearance of being op- quainted with all the tenderest songs of the one poet, and
pressed by the presence of so many strangers. He ventured all the impassioned descriptions of hopeless agony of the
among them again, however, though his spirits certainly other; he repeated, with such tremulous feeling, the vari-
did not seem fit for the mirth of the party in general. ous lines which imaged a broken heart, or a mind destroyed
While Captains Wentworth and Harville led the talk on by wretchedness, and looked so entirely as if he meant to
one side of the room, and by recurring to former days, sup- be understood, that she ventured to hope he did not always
plied anecdotes in abundance to occupy and entertain the read only poetry, and to say, that she thought it was the mis-
others, it fell to Anne’s lot to be placed rather apart with fortune of poetry to be seldom safely enjoyed by those who
Captain Benwick; and a very good impulse of her nature enjoyed it completely; and that the strong feelings which
obliged her to begin an acquaintance with him. He was 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 Chapter 12
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 Anne and Henrietta, finding themselves the earliest of
works of our best moralists, such collections of the finest the party the next morning, agreed to stroll down to the
letters, such memoirs of characters of worth and suffering, sea before breakfast. They went to the sands, to watch the
as occurred to her at the moment as calculated to rouse and flowing of the tide, which a fine south-easterly breeze was
fortify the mind by the highest precepts, and the strongest bringing in with all the grandeur which so flat a shore
examples of moral and religious endurances. admitted. They praised the morning; gloried in the sea;
Captain Benwick listened attentively, and seemed grate- sympathized in the delight of the fresh-feeling breeze—and
ful for the interest implied; and though with a shake of the were silent; till Henrietta suddenly began again with—
head, and sighs which declared his little faith in the effi- ‘Oh! yes,—I am quite convinced that, with very few ex-
cacy of any books on grief like his, noted down the names ceptions, the sea-air always does good. There can be no doubt
of those she recommended, and promised to procure and of its having been of the greatest service to Dr Shirley, after
read them. his illness, last spring twelve-month. He declares himself,
When the evening was over, Anne could not but be that coming to Lyme for a month, did him more good than
amused at the idea of her coming to Lyme to preach pa- all the medicine he took; and, that being by the sea, always
tience and resignation to a young man whom she had never makes him feel young again. Now, I cannot help thinking
seen before; nor could she help fearing, on more serious re- it a pity that he does not live entirely by the sea. I do think
flection, that, like many other great moralists and preachers, he had better leave Uppercross entirely, and fix at Lyme. Do
she had been eloquent on a point in which her own conduct not you, Anne? Do not you agree with me, that it is the best
would ill bear examination. 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 atten-
dance 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 always look upon her as able to persuade a person to any-
lives, wearing out their last days in a place like Uppercross, thing! I am afraid of her, as I have told you before, quite
where, excepting our family, they seem shut out from all the afraid of her, because she is so very clever; but I respect her
world. I wish his friends would propose it to him. I really amazingly, and wish we had such a neighbour at Upper-
think they ought. And, as to procuring a dispensation, there cross.’
could be no difficulty at his time of life, and with his charac- Anne was amused by Henrietta’s manner of being grate-
ter. My only doubt is, whether anything could persuade him ful, and amused also that the course of events and the new
to leave his parish. He is so very strict and scrupulous in interests of Henrietta’s views should have placed her friend
his notions; over-scrupulous I must say. Do not you think, at all in favour with any of the Musgrove family; she had
Anne, it is being over-scrupulous? Do not you think it is only time, however, for a general answer, and a wish that
quite a mistaken point of conscience, when a clergyman such another woman were at Uppercross, before all subjects
sacrifices his health for the sake of duties, which may be suddenly ceased, on seeing Louisa and Captain Went-
just as well performed by another person? And at Lyme too, worth coming towards them. They came also for a stroll till
only seventeen miles off, he would be near enough to hear, if breakfast was likely to be ready; but Louisa recollecting, im-
people thought there was anything to complain of.’ mediately afterwards that she had something to procure at
Anne smiled more than once to herself during this a shop, invited them all to go back with her into the town.
speech, and entered into the subject, as ready to do good by They were all at her disposal.
entering into the feelings of a young lady as of a young man, When they came to the steps, leading upwards from the
though here it was good of a lower standard, for what could beach, a gentleman, at the same moment preparing to come
be offered but general acquiescence? She said all that was down, politely drew back, and stopped to give them way.
reasonable and proper on the business; felt the claims of Dr They ascended and passed him; and as they passed, Anne’s
Shirley to repose as she ought; saw how very desirable it was face caught his eye, and he looked at her with a degree of
that he should have some active, respectable young man, as earnest admiration, which she could not be insensible of.
a resident curate, and was even courteous enough to hint at She was looking remarkably well; her very regular, very
the advantage of such resident curate’s being married. pretty features, having the bloom and freshness of youth
‘I wish,’ said Henrietta, very well pleased with her com- restored by the fine wind which had been blowing on her
panion, ‘I wish Lady Russell lived at Uppercross, and were complexion, and by the animation of eye which it had also
intimate with Dr Shirley. I have always heard of Lady Rus- produced. It was evident that the gentleman, (completely a
sell as a woman of the greatest influence with everybody! I gentleman in manner) admired her exceedingly. Captain

Wentworth looked round at her instantly in a way which he might compare it with his own; the servant in mourning
shewed his noticing of it. He gave her a momentary glance, roused Anne’s curiosity, and the whole six were collected to
a glance of brightness, which seemed to say, ‘That man is look, by the time the owner of the curricle was to be seen
struck with you, and even I, at this moment, see something issuing from the door amidst the bows and civilities of the
like Anne Elliot again.’ household, and taking his seat, to drive off.
After attending Louisa through her business, and loi- ‘Ah!’ cried Captain Wentworth, instantly, and with half a
tering about a little longer, they returned to the inn; and glance at Anne, ‘it is the very man we passed.’
Anne, in passing afterwards quickly from her own chamber The Miss Musgroves agreed to it; and having all kindly
to their dining-room, had nearly run against the very same watched him as far up the hill as they could, they returned
gentleman, as he came out of an adjoining apartment. She to the breakfast table. The waiter came into the room soon
had before conjectured him to be a stranger like themselves, afterwards.
and determined that a well-looking groom, who was stroll- ‘Pray,’ said Captain Wentworth, immediately, ‘can you
ing about near the two inns as they came back, should be tell us the name of the gentleman who is just gone away?’
his servant. Both master and man being in mourning as- ‘Yes, Sir, a Mr Elliot, a gentleman of large fortune, came
sisted the idea. It was now proved that he belonged to the in last night from Sidmouth. Dare say you heard the car-
same inn as themselves; and this second meeting, short as riage, sir, while you were at dinner; and going on now for
it was, also proved again by the gentleman’s looks, that he Crewkherne, in his way to Bath and London.’
thought hers very lovely, and by the readiness and propri- ‘Elliot!’ Many had looked on each other, and many had
ety of his apologies, that he was a man of exceedingly good repeated the name, before all this had been got through,
manners. He seemed about thirty, and though not hand- even by the smart rapidity of a waiter.
some, had an agreeable person. Anne felt that she should ‘Bless me!’ cried Mary; ‘it must be our cousin; it must be
like to know who he was. our Mr Elliot, it must, indeed! Charles, Anne, must not it?
They had nearly done breakfast, when the sound of a car- In mourning, you see, just as our Mr Elliot must be. How
riage, (almost the first they had heard since entering Lyme) very extraordinary! In the very same inn with us! Anne,
drew half the party to the window. It was a gentleman’s must not it be our Mr Elliot? my father’s next heir? Pray sir,’
carriage, a curricle, but only coming round from the stable- turning to the waiter, ‘did not you hear, did not his servant
yard to the front door; somebody must be going away. It was say whether he belonged to the Kellynch family?’
driven by a servant in mourning. ‘No, ma’am, he did not mention no particular family; but
The word curricle made Charles Musgrove jump up that he said his master was a very rich gentleman, and would be

a baronight some day.’ ily Mary did not much attend to their having passed close
‘There! you see!’ cried Mary in an ecstasy, ‘just as I said! by him in their earlier walk, but she would have felt quite
Heir to Sir Walter Elliot! I was sure that would come out, if ill-used by Anne’s having actually run against him in the
it was so. Depend upon it, that is a circumstance which his passage, and received his very polite excuses, while she had
servants take care to publish, wherever he goes. But, Anne, never been near him at all; no, that cousinly little interview
only conceive how extraordinary! I wish I had looked at must remain a perfect secret.
him more. I wish we had been aware in time, who it was, ‘Of course,’ said Mary, ‘you will mention our seeing Mr
that he might have been introduced to us. What a pity that Elliot, the next time you write to Bath. I think my father
we should not have been introduced to each other! Do you certainly ought to hear of it; do mention all about him.’
think he had the Elliot countenance? I hardly looked at him, Anne avoided a direct reply, but it was just the circum-
I was looking at the horses; but I think he had something stance which she considered as not merely unnecessary to
of the Elliot countenance, I wonder the arms did not strike be communicated, but as what ought to be suppressed. The
me! Oh! the great-coat was hanging over the panel, and hid offence which had been given her father, many years back,
the arms, so it did; otherwise, I am sure, I should have ob- she knew; Elizabeth’s particular share in it she suspected;
served them, and the livery too; if the servant had not been and that Mr Elliot’s idea always produced irritation in both
in mourning, one should have known him by the livery.’ was beyond a doubt. Mary never wrote to Bath herself; all
‘Putting all these very extraordinary circumstances to- the toil of keeping up a slow and unsatisfactory correspon-
gether,’ said Captain Wentworth, ‘we must consider it to be dence with Elizabeth fell on Anne.
the arrangement of Providence, that you should not be in- Breakfast had not been long over, when they were joined
troduced to your cousin.’ by Captain and Mrs Harville and Captain Benwick; with
When she could command Mary’s attention, Anne qui- whom they had appointed to take their last walk about
etly tried to convince her that their father and Mr Elliot Lyme. They ought to be setting off for Uppercross by one,
had not, for many years, been on such terms as to make the and in the mean while were to be all together, and out of
power of attempting an introduction at all desirable. doors as long as they could.
At the same time, however, it was a secret gratification Anne found Captain Benwick getting near her, as soon
to herself to have seen her cousin, and to know that the fu- as they were all fairly in the street. Their conversation the
ture owner of Kellynch was undoubtedly a gentleman, and preceding evening did not disincline him to seek her again;
had an air of good sense. She would not, upon any account, and they walked together some time, talking as before of
mention her having met with him the second time; luck- Mr Scott and Lord Byron, and still as unable as before, and

as unable as any other two readers, to think exactly alike could have saved poor James. You may think, Miss Elliot,
of the merits of either, till something occasioned an almost whether he is dear to us!’
general change amongst their party, and instead of Captain Anne did think on the question with perfect decision,
Benwick, she had Captain Harville by her side. and said as much in reply as her own feeling could accom-
‘Miss Elliot,’ said he, speaking rather low, ‘you have done plish, or as his seemed able to bear, for he was too much
a good deed in making that poor fellow talk so much. I wish affected to renew the subject, and when he spoke again, it
he could have such company oftener. It is bad for him, I was of something totally different.
know, to be shut up as he is; but what can we do? We can- Mrs Harville’s giving it as her opinion that her husband
not part.’ would have quite walking enough by the time he reached
‘No,’ said Anne, ‘that I can easily believe to be impos- home, determined the direction of all the party in what was
sible; but in time, perhaps—we know what time does in to be their last walk; they would accompany them to their
every case of affliction, and you must remember, Captain door, and then return and set off themselves. By all their
Harville, that your friend may yet be called a young mourn- calculations there was just time for this; but as they drew
er—only last summer, I understand.’ near the Cobb, there was such a general wish to walk along
‘Ay, true enough,’ (with a deep sigh) ‘only June.’ it once more, all were so inclined, and Louisa soon grew so
‘And not known to him, perhaps, so soon.’ determined, that the difference of a quarter of an hour, it
‘Not till the first week of August, when he came home was found, would be no difference at all; so with all the kind
from the Cape, just made into the Grappler. I was at Plym- leave-taking, and all the kind interchange of invitations and
outh dreading to hear of him; he sent in letters, but the promises which may be imagined, they parted from Captain
Grappler was under orders for Portsmouth. There the news and Mrs Harville at their own door, and still accompanied
must follow him, but who was to tell it? not I. I would as by Captain Benwick, who seemed to cling to them to the
soon have been run up to the yard-arm. Nobody could do it, last, proceeded to make the proper adieus to the Cobb.
but that good fellow’ (pointing to Captain Wentworth.) ‘The Anne found Captain Benwick again drawing near her.
Laconia had come into Plymouth the week before; no dan- Lord Byron’s ‘dark blue seas’ could not fail of being brought
ger of her being sent to sea again. He stood his chance for forward by their present view, and she gladly gave him all
the rest; wrote up for leave of absence, but without waiting her attention as long as attention was possible. It was soon
the return, travelled night and day till he got to Portsmouth, drawn, perforce another way.
rowed off to the Grappler that instant, and never left the There was too much wind to make the high part of
poor fellow for a week. That’s what he did, and nobody else the new Cobb pleasant for the ladies, and they agreed to

get down the steps to the lower, and all were contented to to him. I can support her myself. Leave me, and go to him.
pass quietly and carefully down the steep flight, excepting Rub her hands, rub her temples; here are salts; take them,
Louisa; she must be jumped down them by Captain Went- take them.’
worth. In all their walks, he had had to jump her from the Captain Benwick obeyed, and Charles at the same mo-
stiles; the sensation was delightful to her. The hardness of ment, disengaging himself from his wife, they were both
the pavement for her feet, made him less willing upon the with him; and Louisa was raised up and supported more
present occasion; he did it, however. She was safely down, firmly between them, and everything was done that Anne
and instantly, to show her enjoyment, ran up the steps to had prompted, but in vain; while Captain Wentworth, stag-
be jumped down again. He advised her against it, thought gering against the wall for his support, exclaimed in the
the jar too great; but no, he reasoned and talked in vain, bitterest agony—
she smiled and said, ‘I am determined I will:’ he put out his ‘Oh God! her father and mother!’
hands; she was too precipitate by half a second, she fell on ‘A surgeon!’ said Anne.
the pavement on the Lower Cobb, and was taken up lifeless! He caught the word; it seemed to rouse him at once,
There was no wound, no blood, no visible bruise; but her and saying only— ‘True, true, a surgeon this instant,’ was
eyes were closed, she breathed not, her face was like death. darting away, when Anne eagerly suggested—
The horror of the moment to all who stood around! ‘Captain Benwick, would not it be better for Captain
Captain Wentworth, who had caught her up, knelt with Benwick? He knows where a surgeon is to be found.’
her in his arms, looking on her with a face as pallid as Every one capable of thinking felt the advantage of the
her own, in an agony of silence. ‘She is dead! she is dead!’ idea, and in a moment (it was all done in rapid moments)
screamed Mary, catching hold of her husband, and contrib- Captain Benwick had resigned the poor corpse-like figure
uting with his own horror to make him immoveable; and in entirely to the brother’s care, and was off for the town with
another moment, Henrietta, sinking under the conviction, the utmost rapidity.
lost her senses too, and would have fallen on the steps, but As to the wretched party left behind, it could scarcely
for Captain Benwick and Anne, who caught and supported be said which of the three, who were completely rational,
her between them. was suffering most: Captain Wentworth, Anne, or Charles,
‘Is there no one to help me?’ were the first words which who, really a very affectionate brother, hung over Louisa
burst from Captain Wentworth, in a tone of despair, and as with sobs of grief, and could only turn his eyes from one
if all his own strength were gone. sister, to see the other in a state as insensible, or to witness
‘Go to him, go to him,’ cried Anne, ‘for heaven’s sake go the hysterical agitations of his wife, calling on him for help

which he could not give. and they had set off immediately, informed and directed as
Anne, attending with all the strength and zeal, and they passed, towards the spot. Shocked as Captain Harville
thought, which instinct supplied, to Henrietta, still tried, was, he brought senses and nerves that could be instantly
at intervals, to suggest comfort to the others, tried to quiet useful; and a look between him and his wife decided what
Mary, to animate Charles, to assuage the feelings of Captain was to be done. She must be taken to their house; all must
Wentworth. Both seemed to look to her for directions. go to their house; and await the surgeon’s arrival there. They
‘Anne, Anne,’ cried Charles, ‘What is to be done next? would not listen to scruples: he was obeyed; they were all
What, in heaven’s name, is to be done next?’ beneath his roof; and while Louisa, under Mrs Harville’s
Captain Wentworth’s eyes were also turned towards direction, was conveyed up stairs, and given possession of
her. her own bed, assistance, cordials, restoratives were supplied
‘Had not she better be carried to the inn? Yes, I am sure: by her husband to all who needed them.
carry her gently to the inn.’ Louisa had once opened her eyes, but soon closed them
‘Yes, yes, to the inn,’ repeated Captain Wentworth, com- again, without apparent consciousness. This had been a
paratively collected, and eager to be doing something. ‘I will proof of life, however, of service to her sister; and Henrietta,
carry her myself. Musgrove, take care of the others.’ though perfectly incapable of being in the same room with
By this time the report of the accident had spread among Louisa, was kept, by the agitation of hope and fear, from
the workmen and boatmen about the Cobb, and many were a return of her own insensibility. Mary, too, was growing
collected near them, to be useful if wanted, at any rate, to calmer.
enjoy the sight of a dead young lady, nay, two dead young The surgeon was with them almost before it had seemed
ladies, for it proved twice as fine as the first report. To some possible. They were sick with horror, while he examined;
of the best-looking of these good people Henrietta was con- but he was not hopeless. The head had received a severe con-
signed, for, though partially revived, she was quite helpless; tusion, but he had seen greater injuries recovered from: he
and in this manner, Anne walking by her side, and Charles was by no means hopeless; he spoke cheerfully.
attending to his wife, they set forward, treading back with That he did not regard it as a desperate case, that he did
feelings unutterable, the ground, which so lately, so very not say a few hours must end it, was at first felt, beyond the
lately, and so light of heart, they had passed along. hope of most; and the ecstasy of such a reprieve, the re-
They were not off the Cobb, before the Harvilles met joicing, deep and silent, after a few fervent ejaculations of
them. Captain Benwick had been seen flying by their house, gratitude to Heaven had been offered, may be conceived.
with a countenance which showed something to be wrong; The tone, the look, with which ‘Thank God!’ was uttered

by Captain Wentworth, Anne was sure could never be for- with a truth and sincerity of feeling irresistible.
gotten by her; nor the sight of him afterwards, as he sat near Charles, Henrietta, and Captain Wentworth were the
a table, leaning over it with folded arms and face concealed, three in consultation, and for a little while it was only an
as if overpowered by the various feelings of his soul, and interchange of perplexity and terror. ‘Uppercross, the ne-
trying by prayer and reflection to calm them. cessity of some one’s going to Uppercross; the news to be
Louisa’s limbs had escaped. There was no injury but to conveyed; how it could be broken to Mr and Mrs Musgrove;
the head. the lateness of the morning; an hour already gone since they
It now became necessary for the party to consider what ought to have been off; the impossibility of being in toler-
was best to be done, as to their general situation. They were able time.’ At first, they were capable of nothing more to the
now able to speak to each other and consult. That Louisa purpose than such exclamations; but, after a while, Captain
must remain where she was, however distressing to her Wentworth, exerting himself, said—
friends to be involving the Harvilles in such trouble, did ‘We must be decided, and without the loss of another
not admit a doubt. Her removal was impossible. The Har- minute. Every minute is valuable. Some one must resolve
villes silenced all scruples; and, as much as they could, all on being off for Uppercross instantly. Musgrove, either you
gratitude. They had looked forward and arranged every- or I must go.’
thing before the others began to reflect. Captain Benwick Charles agreed, but declared his resolution of not going
must give up his room to them, and get another bed else- away. He would be as little incumbrance as possible to Cap-
where; and the whole was settled. They were only concerned tain and Mrs Harville; but as to leaving his sister in such a
that the house could accommodate no more; and yet per- state, he neither ought, nor would. So far it was decided; and
haps, by ‘putting the children away in the maid’s room, or Henrietta at first declared the same. She, however, was soon
swinging a cot somewhere,’ they could hardly bear to think persuaded to think differently. The usefulness of her stay-
of not finding room for two or three besides, supposing they ing! She who had not been able to remain in Louisa’s room,
might wish to stay; though, with regard to any attendance or to look at her, without sufferings which made her worse
on Miss Musgrove, there need not be the least uneasiness in than helpless! She was forced to acknowledge that she could
leaving her to Mrs Harville’s care entirely. Mrs Harville was do no good, yet was still unwilling to be away, till, touched
a very experienced nurse, and her nursery-maid, who had by the thought of her father and mother, she gave it up; she
lived with her long, and gone about with her everywhere, consented, she was anxious to be at home.
was just such another. Between these two, she could want The plan had reached this point, when Anne, coming
no possible attendance by day or night. And all this was said quietly down from Louisa’s room, could not but hear what

followed, for the parlour door was open. ready on his part, and to be soon followed by the two ladies.
‘Then it is settled, Musgrove,’ cried Captain Wentworth, When the plan was made known to Mary, however, there
‘that you stay, and that I take care of your sister home. But was an end of all peace in it. She was so wretched and so ve-
as to the rest, as to the others, if one stays to assist Mrs Har- hement, complained so much of injustice in being expected
ville, I think it need be only one. Mrs Charles Musgrove to go away instead of Anne; Anne, who was nothing to Lou-
will, of course, wish to get back to her children; but if Anne isa, while she was her sister, and had the best right to stay in
will stay, no one so proper, so capable as Anne.’ Henrietta’s stead! Why was not she to be as useful as Anne?
She paused a moment to recover from the emotion of And to go home without Charles, too, without her husband!
hearing herself so spoken of. The other two warmly agreed No, it was too unkind. And in short, she said more than her
with what he said, and she then appeared. husband could long withstand, and as none of the others
‘You will stay, I am sure; you will stay and nurse her;’ could oppose when he gave way, there was no help for it; the
cried he, turning to her and speaking with a glow, and yet change of Mary for Anne was inevitable.
a gentleness, which seemed almost restoring the past. She Anne had never submitted more reluctantly to the jeal-
coloured deeply, and he recollected himself and moved ous and ill-judging claims of Mary; but so it must be, and
away. She expressed herself most willing, ready, happy to re- they set off for the town, Charles taking care of his sister, and
main. ‘It was what she had been thinking of, and wishing to Captain Benwick attending to her. She gave a moment’s rec-
be allowed to do. A bed on the floor in Louisa’s room would ollection, as they hurried along, to the little circumstances
be sufficient for her, if Mrs Harville would but think so.’ which the same spots had witnessed earlier in the morning.
One thing more, and all seemed arranged. Though it was There she had listened to Henrietta’s schemes for Dr Shir-
rather desirable that Mr and Mrs Musgrove should be previ- ley’s leaving Uppercross; farther on, she had first seen Mr
ously alarmed by some share of delay; yet the time required Elliot; a moment seemed all that could now be given to any
by the Uppercross horses to take them back, would be a one but Louisa, or those who were wrapt up in her welfare.
dreadful extension of suspense; and Captain Wentworth Captain Benwick was most considerately attentive to her;
proposed, and Charles Musgrove agreed, that it would be and, united as they all seemed by the distress of the day, she
much better for him to take a chaise from the inn, and leave felt an increasing degree of good-will towards him, and a
Mr Musgrove’s carriage and horses to be sent home the next pleasure even in thinking that it might, perhaps, be the oc-
morning early, when there would be the farther advantage casion of continuing their acquaintance.
of sending an account of Louisa’s night. Captain Wentworth was on the watch for them, and a
Captain Wentworth now hurried off to get everything chaise and four in waiting, stationed for their convenience

in the lowest part of the street; but his evident surprise had not given way to her at the fatal moment! Had I done as
and vexation at the substitution of one sister for the other, I ought! But so eager and so resolute! Dear, sweet Louisa!’
the change in his countenance, the astonishment, the ex- Anne wondered whether it ever occurred to him now, to
pressions begun and suppressed, with which Charles was question the justness of his own previous opinion as to the
listened to, made but a mortifying reception of Anne; or universal felicity and advantage of firmness of character;
must at least convince her that she was valued only as she and whether it might not strike him that, like all other qual-
could be useful to Louisa. ities of the mind, it should have its proportions and limits.
She endeavoured to be composed, and to be just. With- She thought it could scarcely escape him to feel that a per-
out emulating the feelings of an Emma towards her Henry, suadable temper might sometimes be as much in favour of
she would have attended on Louisa with a zeal above the happiness as a very resolute character.
common claims of regard, for his sake; and she hoped he They got on fast. Anne was astonished to recognise the
would not long be so unjust as to suppose she would shrink same hills and the same objects so soon. Their actual speed,
unnecessarily from the office of a friend. heightened by some dread of the conclusion, made the road
In the mean while she was in the carriage. He had hand- appear but half as long as on the day before. It was growing
ed them both in, and placed himself between them; and in quite dusk, however, before they were in the neighbourhood
this manner, under these circumstances, full of astonish- of Uppercross, and there had been total silence among them
ment and emotion to Anne, she quitted Lyme. How the long for some time, Henrietta leaning back in the corner, with a
stage would pass; how it was to affect their manners; what shawl over her face, giving the hope of her having cried her-
was to be their sort of intercourse, she could not foresee. It self to sleep; when, as they were going up their last hill, Anne
was all quite natural, however. He was devoted to Henri- found herself all at once addressed by Captain Wentworth.
etta; always turning towards her; and when he spoke at all, In a low, cautious voice, he said: —
always with the view of supporting her hopes and raising ‘I have been considering what we had best do. She must
her spirits. In general, his voice and manner were studiously not appear at first. She could not stand it. I have been think-
calm. To spare Henrietta from agitation seemed the gov- ing whether you had not better remain in the carriage with
erning principle. Once only, when she had been grieving her, while I go in and break it to Mr and Mrs Musgrove. Do
over the last ill-judged, ill-fated walk to the Cobb, bitterly you think this is a good plan?’
lamenting that it ever had been thought of, he burst forth, She did: he was satisfied, and said no more. But the re-
as if wholly overcome— membrance of the appeal remained a pleasure to her, as a
‘Don’t talk of it, don’t talk of it,’ he cried. ‘Oh God! that I 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. Chapter 13
When the distressing communication at Uppercross was
over, and he had seen the father and mother quite as com-
posed as could be hoped, and the daughter all the better for
being with them, he announced his intention of returning The remainder of Anne’s time at Uppercross, compre-
in the same carriage to Lyme; and when the horses were hending only two days, was spent entirely at the Mansion
baited, he was off. House; and she had the satisfaction of knowing herself ex-
(End of volume one.) tremely 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 be-
fore 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 morn-
ing. 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 at once. She had little difficulty; it was soon determined that
ladies could not consent. It would be going only to mul- they would go; go to-morrow, fix themselves at the inn, or
tiply trouble to the others, and increase his own distress; get into lodgings, as it suited, and there remain till dear
and a much better scheme followed and was acted upon. Louisa could be moved. They must be taking off some trou-
A chaise was sent for from Crewkherne, and Charles con- ble from the good people she was with; they might at least
veyed back a far more useful person in the old nursery-maid relieve Mrs Harville from the care of her own children; and
of the family, one who having brought up all the children, in short, they were so happy in the decision, that Anne was
and seen the very last, the lingering and long-petted Mas- delighted with what she had done, and felt that she could
ter Harry, sent to school after his brothers, was now living not spend her last morning at Uppercross better than in as-
in her deserted nursery to mend stockings and dress all the sisting their preparations, and sending them off at an early
blains and bruises she could get near her, and who, con- hour, though her being left to the solitary range of the house
sequently, was only too happy in being allowed to go and was the consequence.
help nurse dear Miss Louisa. Vague wishes of getting Sarah She was the last, excepting the little boys at the cottage,
thither, had occurred before to Mrs Musgrove and Henri- she was the very last, the only remaining one of all that
etta; but without Anne, it would hardly have been resolved had filled and animated both houses, of all that had given
on, and found practicable so soon. Uppercross its cheerful character. A few days had made a
They were indebted, the next day, to Charles Hayter, change indeed!
for all the minute knowledge of Louisa, which it was so es- If Louisa recovered, it would all be well again. More than
sential to obtain every twenty-four hours. He made it his former happiness would be restored. There could not be a
business to go to Lyme, and his account was still encourag- doubt, to her mind there was none, of what would follow her
ing. The intervals of sense and consciousness were believed recovery. A few months hence, and the room now so desert-
to be stronger. Every report agreed in Captain Wentworth’s ed, occupied but by her silent, pensive self, might be filled
appearing fixed in Lyme. again with all that was happy and gay, all that was glow-
Anne was to leave them on the morrow, an event which ing and bright in prosperous love, all that was most unlike
they all dreaded. ‘What should they do without her? They Anne Elliot!
were wretched comforters for one another.’ And so much An hour’s complete leisure for such reflections as these,
was said in this way, that Anne thought she could not do on a dark November day, a small thick rain almost blot-
better than impart among them the general inclination to ting out the very few objects ever to be discerned from the
which she was privy, and persuaded them all to go to Lyme windows, was enough to make the sound of Lady Russell’s

carriage exceedingly welcome; and yet, though desirous to been full on leaving Kellynch, and which she had felt slight-
be gone, she could not quit the Mansion House, or look an ed, and been compelled to smother among the Musgroves,
adieu to the Cottage, with its black, dripping and comfort- were now become but of secondary interest. She had lately
less veranda, or even notice through the misty glasses the lost sight even of her father and sister and Bath. Their con-
last humble tenements of the village, without a saddened cerns had been sunk under those of Uppercross; and when
heart. Scenes had passed in Uppercross which made it pre- Lady Russell reverted to their former hopes and fears, and
cious. It stood the record of many sensations of pain, once spoke her satisfaction in the house in Camden Place, which
severe, but now softened; and of some instances of relenting had been taken, and her regret that Mrs Clay should still
feeling, some breathings of friendship and reconciliation, be with them, Anne would have been ashamed to have it
which could never be looked for again, and which could known how much more she was thinking of Lyme and Lou-
never cease to be dear. She left it all behind her, all but the isa Musgrove, and all her acquaintance there; how much
recollection that such things had been. more interesting to her was the home and the friendship of
Anne had never entered Kellynch since her quitting the Harvilles and Captain Benwick, than her own father’s
Lady Russell’s house in September. It had not been neces- house in Camden Place, or her own sister’s intimacy with
sary, and the few occasions of its being possible for her to Mrs Clay. She was actually forced to exert herself to meet
go to the Hall she had contrived to evade and escape from. Lady Russell with anything like the appearance of equal so-
Her first return was to resume her place in the modern and licitude, on topics which had by nature the first claim on
elegant apartments of the Lodge, and to gladden the eyes of her.
its mistress. There was a little awkwardness at first in their discourse
There was some anxiety mixed with Lady Russell’s joy in on another subject. They must speak of the accident at
meeting her. She knew who had been frequenting Upper- Lyme. Lady Russell had not been arrived five minutes the
cross. But happily, either Anne was improved in plumpness day before, when a full account of the whole had burst on
and looks, or Lady Russell fancied her so; and Anne, in her; but still it must be talked of, she must make enquiries,
receiving her compliments on the occasion, had the amuse- she must regret the imprudence, lament the result, and
ment of connecting them with the silent admiration of her Captain Wentworth’s name must be mentioned by both.
cousin, and of hoping that she was to be blessed with a sec- Anne was conscious of not doing it so well as Lady Russell.
ond spring of youth and beauty. She could not speak the name, and look straight forward to
When they came to converse, she was soon sensible of Lady Russell’s eye, till she had adopted the expedient of tell-
some mental change. The subjects of which her heart had ing her briefly what she thought of the attachment between

him and Louisa. When this was told, his name distressed of the removal, she could not but in conscience feel that they
her no longer. were gone who deserved not to stay, and that Kellynch Hall
Lady Russell had only to listen composedly, and wish had passed into better hands than its owners’. These convic-
them happy, but internally her heart revelled in angry plea- tions must unquestionably have their own pain, and severe
sure, in pleased contempt, that the man who at twenty-three was its kind; but they precluded that pain which Lady Rus-
had seemed to understand somewhat of the value of an sell would suffer in entering the house again, and returning
Anne Elliot, should, eight years afterwards, be charmed by through the well-known apartments.
a Louisa Musgrove. In such moments Anne had no power of saying to her-
The first three or four days passed most quietly, with self, ‘These rooms ought to belong only to us. Oh, how fallen
no circumstance to mark them excepting the receipt of a in their destination! How unworthily occupied! An ancient
note or two from Lyme, which found their way to Anne, she family to be so driven away! Strangers filling their place!’
could not tell how, and brought a rather improving account No, except when she thought of her mother, and remem-
of Louisa. At the end of that period, Lady Russell’s politeness bered where she had been used to sit and preside, she had no
could repose no longer, and the fainter self-threatenings of sigh of that description to heave.
the past became in a decided tone, ‘I must call on Mrs Croft; Mrs Croft always met her with a kindness which gave
I really must call upon her soon. Anne, have you courage her the pleasure of fancying herself a favourite, and on the
to go with me, and pay a visit in that house? It will be some present occasion, receiving her in that house, there was par-
trial to us both.’ ticular attention.
Anne did not shrink from it; on the contrary, she truly The sad accident at Lyme was soon the prevailing topic,
felt as she said, in observing— and on comparing their latest accounts of the invalid, it ap-
‘I think you are very likely to suffer the most of the two; peared that each lady dated her intelligence from the same
your feelings are less reconciled to the change than mine. hour of yestermorn; that Captain Wentworth had been in
By remaining in the neighbourhood, I am become inured Kellynch yesterday (the first time since the accident), had
to it.’ brought Anne the last note, which she had not been able to
She could have said more on the subject; for she had in trace the exact steps of; had staid a few hours and then re-
fact so high an opinion of the Crofts, and considered her fa- turned again to Lyme, and without any present intention of
ther so very fortunate in his tenants, felt the parish to be so quitting it any more. He had enquired after her, she found,
sure of a good example, and the poor of the best attention particularly; had expressed his hope of Miss Elliot’s not be-
and relief, that however sorry and ashamed for the necessity ing the worse for her exertions, and had spoken of those

exertions as great. This was handsome, and gave her more for yours were always kept in the butler’s room. Ay, so it
pleasure than almost anything else could have done. always is, I believe. One man’s ways may be as good as an-
As to the sad catastrophe itself, it could be canvassed other’s, but we all like our own best. And so you must judge
only in one style by a couple of steady, sensible women, for yourself, whether it would be better for you to go about
whose judgements had to work on ascertained events; and the house or not.’
it was perfectly decided that it had been the consequence Anne, finding she might decline it, did so, very grate-
of much thoughtlessness and much imprudence; that its ef- fully.
fects were most alarming, and that it was frightful to think, ‘We have made very few changes either,’ continued the
how long Miss Musgrove’s recovery might yet be doubt- Admiral, after thinking a moment. ‘Very few. We told you
ful, and how liable she would still remain to suffer from the about the laundry-door, at Uppercross. That has been a very
concussion hereafter! The Admiral wound it up summarily great improvement. The wonder was, how any family upon
by exclaiming— earth could bear with the inconvenience of its opening as
‘Ay, a very bad business indeed. A new sort of way this, it did, so long! You will tell Sir Walter what we have done,
for a young fellow to be making love, by breaking his mis- and that Mr Shepherd thinks it the greatest improvement
tress’s head, is not it, Miss Elliot? This is breaking a head the house ever had. Indeed, I must do ourselves the justice
and giving a plaster, truly!’ to say, that the few alterations we have made have been all
Admiral Croft’s manners were not quite of the tone to very much for the better. My wife should have the credit of
suit Lady Russell, but they delighted Anne. His goodness of them, however. I have done very little besides sending away
heart and simplicity of character were irresistible. some of the large looking-glasses from my dressing-room,
‘Now, this must be very bad for you,’ said he, suddenly which was your father’s. A very good man, and very much
rousing from a little reverie, ‘to be coming and finding us the gentleman I am sure: but I should think, Miss Elliot,’
here. I had not recollected it before, I declare, but it must be (looking with serious reflection), ‘I should think he must
very bad. But now, do not stand upon ceremony. Get up and be rather a dressy man for his time of life. Such a number
go over all the rooms in the house if you like it.’ of looking-glasses! oh Lord! there was no getting away from
‘Another time, Sir, I thank you, not now.’ one’s self. So I got Sophy to lend me a hand, and we soon
‘Well, whenever it suits you. You can slip in from the shifted their quarters; and now I am quite snug, with my
shrubbery at any time; and there you will find we keep our little shaving glass in one corner, and another great thing
umbrellas hanging up by that door. A good place is not it? that I never go near.’
But,’ (checking himself), ‘you will not think it a good place, 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— Chapter 14
‘The next time you write to your good father, Miss El-
liot, 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 chim- Though Charles and Mary had remained at Lyme much
ney smokes a little, I grant you, but it is only when the wind longer after Mr and Mrs Musgrove’s going than Anne con-
is due north and blows hard, which may not happen three ceived they could have been at all wanted, they were yet
times a winter. And take it altogether, now that we have been the first of the family to be at home again; and as soon as
into most of the houses hereabouts and can judge, there is possible after their return to Uppercross they drove over to
not one that we like better than this. Pray say so, with my the Lodge. They had left Louisa beginning to sit up; but her
compliments. He will be glad to hear it.’ head, though clear, was exceedingly weak, and her nerves
Lady Russell and Mrs Croft were very well pleased with susceptible to the highest extreme of tenderness; and though
each other: but the acquaintance which this visit began was she might be pronounced to be altogether doing very well, it
fated not to proceed far at present; for when it was returned, was still impossible to say when she might be able to bear the
the Crofts announced themselves to be going away for a few removal home; and her father and mother, who must return
weeks, to visit their connexions in the north of the county, in time to receive their younger children for the Christmas
and probably might not be at home again before Lady Rus- holidays, had hardly a hope of being allowed to bring her
sell would be removing to Bath. with them.
So ended all danger to Anne of meeting Captain Went- They had been all in lodgings together. Mrs Musgrove
worth at Kellynch Hall, or of seeing him in company with had got Mrs Harville’s children away as much as she could,
her friend. Everything was safe enough, and she smiled over every possible supply from Uppercross had been furnished,
the many anxious feelings she had wasted on the subject. to lighten the inconvenience to the Harvilles, while the Har-
villes 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 hospita-
ble.
Mary had had her evils; but upon the whole, as was evi-
dent by her staying so long, she had found more to enjoy

than to suffer. Charles Hayter had been at Lyme oftener than Charles laughed again and said, ‘Now Mary, you know
suited her; and when they dined with the Harvilles there had very well how it really was. It was all your doing,’ (turning
been only a maid-servant to wait, and at first Mrs Harville to Anne.) ‘He fancied that if he went with us, he should find
had always given Mrs Musgrove precedence; but then, she you close by: he fancied everybody to be living in Upper-
had received so very handsome an apology from her on find- cross; and when he discovered that Lady Russell lived three
ing out whose daughter she was, and there had been so much miles off, his heart failed him, and he had not courage to
going on every day, there had been so many walks between come. That is the fact, upon my honour, Mary knows it is.’
their lodgings and the Harvilles, and she had got books from But Mary did not give into it very graciously, whether
the library, and changed them so often, that the balance had from not considering Captain Benwick entitled by birth and
certainly been much in favour of Lyme. She had been taken situation to be in love with an Elliot, or from not wanting to
to Charmouth too, and she had bathed, and she had gone believe Anne a greater attraction to Uppercross than herself,
to church, and there were a great many more people to look must be left to be guessed. Anne’s good-will, however, was
at in the church at Lyme than at Uppercross; and all this, not to be lessened by what she heard. She boldly acknowl-
joined to the sense of being so very useful, had made really edged herself flattered, and continued her enquiries.
an agreeable fortnight. ‘Oh! he talks of you,’ cried Charles, ‘in such terms—‘
Anne enquired after Captain Benwick, Mary’s face was Mary interrupted him. ‘I declare, Charles, I never heard him
clouded directly. Charles laughed. mention Anne twice all the time I was there. I declare, Anne,
‘Oh! Captain Benwick is very well, I believe, but he is a he never talks of you at all.’
very odd young man. I do not know what he would be at. We ‘No,’ admitted Charles, ‘I do not know that he ever does,
asked him to come home with us for a day or two: Charles in a general way; but however, it is a very clear thing that he
undertook to give him some shooting, and he seemed quite admires you exceedingly. His head is full of some books that
delighted, and, for my part, I thought it was all settled; when he is reading upon your recommendation, and he wants to
behold! on Tuesday night, he made a very awkward sort of talk to you about them; he has found out something or other
excuse; ‘he never shot’ and he had ‘been quite misunder- in one of them which he thinks—oh! I cannot pretend to
stood,’ and he had promised this and he had promised that, remember it, but it was something very fine—I overheard
and the end of it was, I found, that he did not mean to come. him telling Henrietta all about it; and then ‘Miss Elliot’ was
I suppose he was afraid of finding it dull; but upon my word spoken of in the highest terms! Now Mary, I declare it was
I should have thought we were lively enough at the Cottage so, I heard it myself, and you were in the other room. ‘El-
for such a heart-broken man as Captain Benwick.’ egance, sweetness, beauty.’ Oh! there was no end of Miss

Elliot’s charms.’ all a well-bred young man. I am sure you will not like him.’
‘And I am sure,’ cried Mary, warmly, ‘it was a very little to ‘There we differ, Mary,’ said Anne. ‘I think Lady Russell
his credit, if he did. Miss Harville only died last June. Such a would like him. I think she would be so much pleased with
heart is very little worth having; is it, Lady Russell? I am sure his mind, that she would very soon see no deficiency in his
you will agree with me.’ manner.’
‘I must see Captain Benwick before I decide,’ said Lady ‘So do I, Anne,’ said Charles. ‘I am sure Lady Russell
Russell, smiling. would like him. He is just Lady Russell’s sort. Give him a
‘And that you are very likely to do very soon, I can tell book, and he will read all day long.’
you, ma’am,’ said Charles. ‘Though he had not nerves for ‘Yes, that he will!’ exclaimed Mary, tauntingly. ‘He will sit
coming away with us, and setting off again afterwards to pay poring over his book, and not know when a person speaks to
a formal visit here, he will make his way over to Kellynch him, or when one drop’s one’s scissors, or anything that hap-
one day by himself, you may depend on it. I told him the pens. Do you think Lady Russell would like that?’
distance and the road, and I told him of the church’s being Lady Russell could not help laughing. ‘Upon my word,’
so very well worth seeing; for as he has a taste for those sort said she, ‘I should not have supposed that my opinion of
of things, I thought that would be a good excuse, and he lis- any one could have admitted of such difference of conjec-
tened with all his understanding and soul; and I am sure ture, steady and matter of fact as I may call myself. I have
from his manner that you will have him calling here soon. really a curiosity to see the person who can give occasion to
So, I give you notice, Lady Russell.’ such directly opposite notions. I wish he may be induced to
‘Any acquaintance of Anne’s will always be welcome to call here. And when he does, Mary, you may depend upon
me,’ was Lady Russell’s kind answer. hearing my opinion; but I am determined not to judge him
‘Oh! as to being Anne’s acquaintance,’ said Mary, ‘I think beforehand.’
he is rather my acquaintance, for I have been seeing him ev- ‘You will not like him, I will answer for it.’
ery day this last fortnight.’ Lady Russell began talking of something else. Mary spoke
‘Well, as your joint acquaintance, then, I shall be very with animation of their meeting with, or rather missing, Mr
happy to see Captain Benwick.’ Elliot so extraordinarily.
‘You will not find anything very agreeable in him, I as- ‘He is a man,’ said Lady Russell, ‘whom I have no wish
sure you, ma’am. He is one of the dullest young men that to see. His declining to be on cordial terms with the head of
ever lived. He has walked with me, sometimes, from one end his family, has left a very strong impression in his disfavour
of the sands to the other, without saying a word. He is not at with me.’

This decision checked Mary’s eagerness, and stopped her and girls from school, bringing with them Mrs Harville’s lit-
short in the midst of the Elliot countenance. tle children, to improve the noise of Uppercross, and lessen
With regard to Captain Wentworth, though Anne haz- that of Lyme. Henrietta remained with Louisa; but all the
arded no enquiries, there was voluntary communication rest of the family were again in their usual quarters.
sufficient. His spirits had been greatly recovering lately as Lady Russell and Anne paid their compliments to them
might be expected. As Louisa improved, he had improved, once, when Anne could not but feel that Uppercross was
and he was now quite a different creature from what he already quite alive again. Though neither Henrietta, nor
had been the first week. He had not seen Louisa; and was Louisa, nor Charles Hayter, nor Captain Wentworth were
so extremely fearful of any ill consequence to her from an there, the room presented as strong a contrast as could be
interview, that he did not press for it at all; and, on the con- wished to the last state she had seen it in.
trary, seemed to have a plan of going away for a week or ten Immediately surrounding Mrs Musgrove were the little
days, till her head was stronger. He had talked of going down Harvilles, whom she was sedulously guarding from the tyr-
to Plymouth for a week, and wanted to persuade Captain anny of the two children from the Cottage, expressly arrived
Benwick to go with him; but, as Charles maintained to the to amuse them. On one side was a table occupied by some
last, Captain Benwick seemed much more disposed to ride chattering girls, cutting up silk and gold paper; and on the
over to Kellynch. other were tressels and trays, bending under the weight of
There can be no doubt that Lady Russell and Anne were brawn and cold pies, where riotous boys were holding high
both occasionally thinking of Captain Benwick, from this revel; the whole completed by a roaring Christmas fire, which
time. Lady Russell could not hear the door-bell without feel- seemed determined to be heard, in spite of all the noise of
ing that it might be his herald; nor could Anne return from the others. Charles and Mary also came in, of course, dur-
any stroll of solitary indulgence in her father’s grounds, or ing their visit, and Mr Musgrove made a point of paying his
any visit of charity in the village, without wondering wheth- respects to Lady Russell, and sat down close to her for ten
er she might see him or hear of him. Captain Benwick minutes, talking with a very raised voice, but from the clam-
came not, however. He was either less disposed for it than our of the children on his knees, generally in vain. It was a
Charles had imagined, or he was too shy; and after giving fine family-piece.
him a week’s indulgence, Lady Russell determined him to Anne, judging from her own temperament, would have
be unworthy of the interest which he had been beginning deemed such a domestic hurricane a bad restorative of the
to excite. nerves, which Louisa’s illness must have so greatly shaken.
The Musgroves came back to receive their happy boys But Mrs Musgrove, who got Anne near her on purpose to

thank her most cordially, again and again, for all her atten- caught the first dim view of the extensive buildings, smok-
tions to them, concluded a short recapitulation of what she ing in rain, without any wish of seeing them better; felt their
had suffered herself by observing, with a happy glance round progress through the streets to be, however disagreeable, yet
the room, that after all she had gone through, nothing was so too rapid; for who would be glad to see her when she arrived?
likely to do her good as a little quiet cheerfulness at home. And looked back, with fond regret, to the bustles of Upper-
Louisa was now recovering apace. Her mother could even cross and the seclusion of Kellynch.
think of her being able to join their party at home, before her Elizabeth’s last letter had communicated a piece of news
brothers and sisters went to school again. The Harvilles had of some interest. Mr Elliot was in Bath. He had called in
promised to come with her and stay at Uppercross, whenever Camden Place; had called a second time, a third; had been
she returned. Captain Wentworth was gone, for the present, pointedly attentive. If Elizabeth and her father did not de-
to see his brother in Shropshire. ceive themselves, had been taking much pains to seek the
‘I hope I shall remember, in future,’ said Lady Russell, as acquaintance, and proclaim the value of the connection, as
soon as they were reseated in the carriage, ‘not to call at Up- he had formerly taken pains to shew neglect. This was very
percross in the Christmas holidays.’ wonderful if it were true; and Lady Russell was in a state of
Everybody has their taste in noises as well as in other mat- very agreeable curiosity and perplexity about Mr Elliot, al-
ters; and sounds are quite innoxious, or most distressing, ready recanting the sentiment she had so lately expressed to
by their sort rather than their quantity. When Lady Russell Mary, of his being ‘a man whom she had no wish to see.’ She
not long afterwards, was entering Bath on a wet afternoon, had a great wish to see him. If he really sought to reconcile
and driving through the long course of streets from the Old himself like a dutiful branch, he must be forgiven for having
Bridge to Camden Place, amidst the dash of other carriages, dismembered himself from the paternal tree.
the heavy rumble of carts and drays, the bawling of newspa- Anne was not animated to an equal pitch by the circum-
permen, muffin-men and milkmen, and the ceaseless clink stance, but she felt that she would rather see Mr Elliot again
of pattens, she made no complaint. No, these were noises than not, which was more than she could say for many other
which belonged to the winter pleasures; her spirits rose un- persons in Bath.
der their influence; and like Mrs Musgrove, she was feeling, She was put down in Camden Place; and Lady Russell
though not saying, that after being long in the country, noth- then drove to her own lodgings, in Rivers Street.
ing 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;

Chapter 15 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 supe-
riority was not less in the style of the fitting-up, or the taste
Sir Walter had taken a very good house in Camden Place, of the furniture. Their acquaintance was exceedingly sought
a lofty dignified situation, such as becomes a man of conse- after. Everybody was wanting to visit them. They had drawn
quence; and both he and Elizabeth were settled there, much back from many introductions, and still were perpetually
to their satisfaction. having cards left by people of whom they knew nothing.
Anne entered it with a sinking heart, anticipating an Here were funds of enjoyment. Could Anne wonder that
imprisonment of many months, and anxiously saying to her father and sister were happy? She might not wonder, but
herself, ‘Oh! when shall I leave you again?’ A degree of un- she must sigh that her father should feel no degradation in
expected cordiality, however, in the welcome she received, his change, should see nothing to regret in the duties and
did her good. Her father and sister were glad to see her, for dignity of the resident landholder, should find so much to be
the sake of shewing her the house and furniture, and met vain of in the littlenesses of a town; and she must sigh, and
her with kindness. Her making a fourth, when they sat smile, and wonder too, as Elizabeth threw open the folding-
down to dinner, was noticed as an advantage. doors and walked with exultation from one drawing-room
Mrs Clay was very pleasant, and very smiling, but her to the other, boasting of their space; at the possibility of that
courtesies and smiles were more a matter of course. Anne woman, who had been mistress of Kellynch Hall, finding
had always felt that she would pretend what was proper extent to be proud of between two walls, perhaps thirty feet
on her arrival, but the complaisance of the others was un- asunder.
looked for. They were evidently in excellent spirits, and she But this was not all which they had to make them happy.
was soon to listen to the causes. They had no inclination to They had Mr Elliot too. Anne had a great deal to hear of Mr
listen to her. After laying out for some compliments of being Elliot. He was not only pardoned, they were delighted with
deeply regretted in their old neighbourhood, which Anne him. He had been in Bath about a fortnight; (he had passed
could not pay, they had only a few faint enquiries to make, through Bath in November, in his way to London, when the
before the talk must be all their own. Uppercross excited no intelligence of Sir Walter’s being settled there had of course
interest, Kellynch very little: it was all Bath. reached him, though only twenty-four hours in the place,
They had the pleasure of assuring her that Bath more 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 arriv- had, at his own particular request, been admitted to their
ing, had been to leave his card in Camden Place, following acquaintance through Mr Elliot, had mentioned one or two
it up by such assiduous endeavours to meet, and when they things relative to the marriage, which made a material dif-
did meet, by such great openness of conduct, such readiness ference in the discredit of it.
to apologize for the past, such solicitude to be received as a Colonel Wallis had known Mr Elliot long, had been well
relation again, that their former good understanding was acquainted also with his wife, had perfectly understood the
completely re-established. whole story. She was certainly not a woman of family, but
They had not a fault to find in him. He had explained well educated, accomplished, rich, and excessively in love
away all the appearance of neglect on his own side. It had with his friend. There had been the charm. She had sought
originated in misapprehension entirely. He had never had him. Without that attraction, not all her money would have
an idea of throwing himself off; he had feared that he was tempted Elliot, and Sir Walter was, moreover, assured of her
thrown off, but knew not why, and delicacy had kept him having been a very fine woman. Here was a great deal to
silent. Upon the hint of having spoken disrespectfully or soften the business. A very fine woman with a large fortune,
carelessly of the family and the family honours, he was quite in love with him! Sir Walter seemed to admit it as complete
indignant. He, who had ever boasted of being an Elliot, apology; and though Elizabeth could not see the circum-
and whose feelings, as to connection, were only too strict stance in quite so favourable a light, she allowed it be a great
to suit the unfeudal tone of the present day. He was aston- extenuation.
ished, indeed, but his character and general conduct must Mr Elliot had called repeatedly, had dined with them
refute it. He could refer Sir Walter to all who knew him; and once, evidently delighted by the distinction of being asked,
certainly, the pains he had been taking on this, the first op- for they gave no dinners in general; delighted, in short, by
portunity of reconciliation, to be restored to the footing of every proof of cousinly notice, and placing his whole happi-
a relation and heir-presumptive, was a strong proof of his ness in being on intimate terms in Camden Place.
opinions on the subject. Anne listened, but without quite understanding it. Al-
The circumstances of his marriage, too, were found to lowances, large allowances, she knew, must be made for
admit of much extenuation. This was an article not to be the ideas of those who spoke. She heard it all under em-
entered on by himself; but a very intimate friend of his, a bellishment. All that sounded extravagant or irrational in
Colonel Wallis, a highly respectable man, perfectly the gen- the progress of the reconciliation might have no origin but
tleman, (and not an ill-looking man, Sir Walter added), who in the language of the relators. Still, however, she had the
was living in very good style in Marlborough Buildings, and sensation of there being something more than immediate-

ly appeared, in Mr Elliot’s wishing, after an interval of so cially. He did justice to his very gentlemanlike appearance,
many years, to be well received by them. In a worldly view, his air of elegance and fashion, his good shaped face, his
he had nothing to gain by being on terms with Sir Walter; sensible eye; but, at the same time, ‘must lament his being
nothing to risk by a state of variance. In all probability he very much under-hung, a defect which time seemed to have
was already the richer of the two, and the Kellynch estate increased; nor could he pretend to say that ten years had
would as surely be his hereafter as the title. A sensible man, not altered almost every feature for the worse. Mr Elliot ap-
and he had looked like a very sensible man, why should it peared to think that he (Sir Walter) was looking exactly as
be an object to him? She could only offer one solution; it he had done when they last parted;’ but Sir Walter had ‘not
was, perhaps, for Elizabeth’s sake. There might really have been able to return the compliment entirely, which had em-
been a liking formerly, though convenience and accident barrassed him. He did not mean to complain, however. Mr
had drawn him a different way; and now that he could af- Elliot was better to look at than most men, and he had no
ford to please himself, he might mean to pay his addresses objection to being seen with him anywhere.’
to her. Elizabeth was certainly very handsome, with well- Mr Elliot, and his friends in Marlborough Buildings,
bred, elegant manners, and her character might never have were talked of the whole evening. ‘Colonel Wallis had been
been penetrated by Mr Elliot, knowing her but in public, so impatient to be introduced to them! and Mr Elliot so
and when very young himself. How her temper and under- anxious that he should!’ and there was a Mrs Wallis, at pres-
standing might bear the investigation of his present keener ent known only to them by description, as she was in daily
time of life was another concern and rather a fearful one. expectation of her confinement; but Mr Elliot spoke of her
Most earnestly did she wish that he might not be too nice, as ‘a most charming woman, quite worthy of being known
or too observant if Elizabeth were his object; and that Eliza- in Camden Place,’ and as soon as she recovered they were to
beth was disposed to believe herself so, and that her friend be acquainted. Sir Walter thought much of Mrs Wallis; she
Mrs Clay was encouraging the idea, seemed apparent by a was said to be an excessively pretty woman, beautiful. ‘He
glance or two between them, while Mr Elliot’s frequent vis- longed to see her. He hoped she might make some amends
its were talked of. for the many very plain faces he was continually passing in
Anne mentioned the glimpses she had had of him at the streets. The worst of Bath was the number of its plain
Lyme, but without being much attended to. ‘Oh! yes, per- women. He did not mean to say that there were no pretty
haps, it had been Mr Elliot. They did not know. It might be women, but the number of the plain was out of all propor-
him, perhaps.’ They could not listen to her description of tion. He had frequently observed, as he walked, that one
him. They were describing him themselves; Sir Walter espe- handsome face would be followed by thirty, or five-and-

thirty frights; and once, as he had stood in a shop on Bond misuse, when a knock at the door suspended everything. ‘A
Street, he had counted eighty-seven women go by, one after knock at the door! and so late! It was ten o’clock. Could it
another, without there being a tolerable face among them. It be Mr Elliot? They knew he was to dine in Lansdown Cres-
had been a frosty morning, to be sure, a sharp frost, which cent. It was possible that he might stop in his way home to
hardly one woman in a thousand could stand the test of. But ask them how they did. They could think of no one else. Mrs
still, there certainly were a dreadful multitude of ugly wom- Clay decidedly thought it Mr Elliot’s knock.’ Mrs Clay was
en in Bath; and as for the men! they were infinitely worse. right. With all the state which a butler and foot-boy could
Such scarecrows as the streets were full of! It was evident give, Mr Elliot was ushered into the room.
how little the women were used to the sight of anything It was the same, the very same man, with no difference
tolerable, by the effect which a man of decent appearance but of dress. Anne drew a little back, while the others re-
produced. He had never walked anywhere arm-in-arm with ceived his compliments, and her sister his apologies for
Colonel Wallis (who was a fine military figure, though san- calling at so unusual an hour, but ‘he could not be so near
dy-haired) without observing that every woman’s eye was without wishing to know that neither she nor her friend had
upon him; every woman’s eye was sure to be upon Colonel taken cold the day before,’ &c. &c; which was all as politely
Wallis.’ Modest Sir Walter! He was not allowed to escape, done, and as politely taken, as possible, but her part must
however. His daughter and Mrs Clay united in hinting that follow then. Sir Walter talked of his youngest daughter; ‘Mr
Colonel Wallis’s companion might have as good a figure as Elliot must give him leave to present him to his youngest
Colonel Wallis, and certainly was not sandy-haired. daughter’ (there was no occasion for remembering Mary);
‘How is Mary looking?’ said Sir Walter, in the height of and Anne, smiling and blushing, very becomingly shewed
his good humour. ‘The last time I saw her she had a red nose, to Mr Elliot the pretty features which he had by no means
but I hope that may not happen every day.’ forgotten, and instantly saw, with amusement at his little
‘Oh! no, that must have been quite accidental. In general start of surprise, that he had not been at all aware of who
she has been in very good health and very good looks since she was. He looked completely astonished, but not more
Michaelmas.’ astonished than pleased; his eyes brightened! and with the
‘If I thought it would not tempt her to go out in sharp most perfect alacrity he welcomed the relationship, alluded
winds, and grow coarse, I would send her a new hat and to the past, and entreated to be received as an acquaintance
pelisse.’ already. He was quite as good-looking as he had appeared
Anne was considering whether she should venture to at Lyme, his countenance improved by speaking, and his
suggest that a gown, or a cap, would not be liable to any such manners were so exactly what they ought to be, so polished,

so easy, so particularly agreeable, that she could compare any other set of beings in the world. The folly of the means
them in excellence to only one person’s manners. They were they often employ is only to be equalled by the folly of what
not the same, but they were, perhaps, equally good. they have in view.’
He sat down with them, and improved their conversation But he must not be addressing his reflections to Anne
very much. There could be no doubt of his being a sensible alone: he knew it; he was soon diffused again among the
man. Ten minutes were enough to certify that. His tone, others, and it was only at intervals that he could return to
his expressions, his choice of subject, his knowing where to Lyme.
stop; it was all the operation of a sensible, discerning mind. His enquiries, however, produced at length an account of
As soon as he could, he began to talk to her of Lyme, want- the scene she had been engaged in there, soon after his leav-
ing to compare opinions respecting the place, but especially ing the place. Having alluded to ‘an accident,’ he must hear
wanting to speak of the circumstance of their happening the whole. When he questioned, Sir Walter and Elizabeth
to be guests in the same inn at the same time; to give his began to question also, but the difference in their manner
own route, understand something of hers, and regret that of doing it could not be unfelt. She could only compare Mr
he should have lost such an opportunity of paying his re- Elliot to Lady Russell, in the wish of really comprehending
spects to her. She gave him a short account of her party and what had passed, and in the degree of concern for what she
business at Lyme. His regret increased as he listened. He must have suffered in witnessing it.
had spent his whole solitary evening in the room adjoining He staid an hour with them. The elegant little clock on
theirs; had heard voices, mirth continually; thought they the mantelpiece had struck ‘eleven with its silver sounds,’
must be a most delightful set of people, longed to be with and the watchman was beginning to be heard at a distance
them, but certainly without the smallest suspicion of his telling the same tale, before Mr Elliot or any of them seemed
possessing the shadow of a right to introduce himself. If he to feel that he had been there long.
had but asked who the party were! The name of Musgrove Anne could not have supposed it possible that her first
would have told him enough. ‘Well, it would serve to cure evening in Camden Place could have passed so well!
him of an absurd practice of never asking a question at an
inn, which he had adopted, when quite a young man, on the
principal 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

Chapter 16 In the course of the same morning, Anne and her fa-
ther 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 im-
proved; clearer, fresher. Had she been using any thing in
There was one point which Anne, on returning to her particular?’ ‘No, nothing.’ ‘Merely Gowland,’ he supposed.
family, would have been more thankful to ascertain even ‘No, nothing at all.’ ‘Ha! he was surprised at that;’ and add-
than Mr Elliot’s being in love with Elizabeth, which was, ed, ‘certainly you cannot do better than to continue as you
her father’s not being in love with Mrs Clay; and she was are; you cannot be better than well; or I should recommend
very far from easy about it, when she had been at home a Gowland, the constant use of Gowland, during the spring
few hours. On going down to breakfast the next morning, months. Mrs Clay has been using it at my recommendation,
she found there had just been a decent pretence on the lady’s and you see what it has done for her. You see how it has car-
side of meaning to leave them. She could imagine Mrs Clay ried away her freckles.’
to have said, that ‘now Miss Anne was come, she could not If Elizabeth could but have heard this! Such personal
suppose herself at all wanted;’ for Elizabeth was replying in praise might have struck her, especially as it did not appear
a sort of whisper, ‘That must not be any reason, indeed. I as- to Anne that the freckles were at all lessened. But every-
sure you I feel it none. She is nothing to me, compared with thing must take its chance. The evil of a marriage would
you;’ and she was in full time to hear her father say, ‘My dear be much diminished, if Elizabeth were also to marry. As
madam, this must not be. As yet, you have seen nothing of for herself, she might always command a home with Lady
Bath. You have been here only to be useful. You must not Russell.
run away from us now. You must stay to be acquainted with Lady Russell’s composed mind and polite manners were
Mrs Wallis, the beautiful Mrs Wallis. To your fine mind, I put to some trial on this point, in her intercourse in Cam-
well know the sight of beauty is a real gratification.’ den Place. The sight of Mrs Clay in such favour, and of Anne
He spoke and looked so much in earnest, that Anne was so overlooked, was a perpetual provocation to her there; and
not surprised to see Mrs Clay stealing a glance at Elizabeth vexed her as much when she was away, as a person in Bath
and herself. Her countenance, perhaps, might express some who drinks the water, gets all the new publications, and has
watchfulness; but the praise of the fine mind did not appear a very large acquaintance, has time to be vexed.
to excite a thought in her sister. The lady could not but yield As Mr Elliot became known to her, she grew more chari-
to such joint entreaties, and promise to stay. table, or more indifferent, towards the others. His manners

were an immediate recommendation; and on conversing was perfectly natural that Mr Elliot, at a mature time of life,
with him she found the solid so fully supporting the super- should feel it a most desirable object, and what would very
ficial, that she was at first, as she told Anne, almost ready generally recommend him among all sensible people, to be
to exclaim, ‘Can this be Mr Elliot?’ and could not serious- on good terms with the head of his family; the simplest pro-
ly picture to herself a more agreeable or estimable man. cess in the world of time upon a head naturally clear, and
Everything united in him; good understanding, correct only erring in the heyday of youth. Anne presumed, how-
opinions, knowledge of the world, and a warm heart. He ever, still to smile about it, and at last to mention ‘Elizabeth.’
had strong feelings of family attachment and family hon- Lady Russell listened, and looked, and made only this cau-
our, without pride or weakness; he lived with the liberality tious reply:—‘Elizabeth! very well; time will explain.’
of a man of fortune, without display; he judged for himself It was a reference to the future, which Anne, after a
in everything essential, without defying public opinion in little observation, felt she must submit to. She could deter-
any point of worldly decorum. He was steady, observant, mine nothing at present. In that house Elizabeth must be
moderate, candid; never run away with by spirits or by self- first; and she was in the habit of such general observance
ishness, which fancied itself strong feeling; and yet, with a as ‘Miss Elliot,’ that any particularity of attention seemed
sensibility to what was amiable and lovely, and a value for almost impossible. Mr Elliot, too, it must be remembered,
all the felicities of domestic life, which characters of fancied had not been a widower seven months. A little delay on his
enthusiasm and violent agitation seldom really possess. She side might be very excusable. In fact, Anne could never see
was sure that he had not been happy in marriage. Colonel the crape round his hat, without fearing that she was the in-
Wallis said it, and Lady Russell saw it; but it had been no excusable one, in attributing to him such imaginations; for
unhappiness to sour his mind, nor (she began pretty soon though his marriage had not been very happy, still it had
to suspect) to prevent his thinking of a second choice. Her existed so many years that she could not comprehend a very
satisfaction in Mr Elliot outweighed all the plague of Mrs rapid recovery from the awful impression of its being dis-
Clay. solved.
It was now some years since Anne had begun to learn However it might end, he was without any question their
that she and her excellent friend could sometimes think pleasantest acquaintance in Bath: she saw nobody equal to
differently; and it did not surprise her, therefore, that Lady him; and it was a great indulgence now and then to talk to
Russell should see nothing suspicious or inconsistent, noth- him about Lyme, which he seemed to have as lively a wish to
ing to require more motives than appeared, in Mr Elliot’s see again, and to see more of, as herself. They went through
great desire of a reconciliation. In Lady Russell’s view, it the particulars of their first meeting a great many times. He

gave her to understand that he had looked at her with some time, there had been an unlucky omission at Kellynch.
earnestness. She knew it well; and she remembered another No letter of condolence had been sent to Ireland. The ne-
person’s look also. glect had been visited on the head of the sinner; for when
They did not always think alike. His value for rank and poor Lady Elliot died herself, no letter of condolence was
connexion she perceived was greater than hers. It was not received at Kellynch, and, consequently, there was but too
merely complaisance, it must be a liking to the cause, which much reason to apprehend that the Dalrymples considered
made him enter warmly into her father and sister’s solici- the relationship as closed. How to have this anxious busi-
tudes on a subject which she thought unworthy to excite ness set to rights, and be admitted as cousins again, was the
them. The Bath paper one morning announced the arrival question: and it was a question which, in a more rational
of the Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple, and her daugh- manner, neither Lady Russell nor Mr Elliot thought unim-
ter, the Honourable Miss Carteret; and all the comfort of portant. ‘Family connexions were always worth preserving,
No.—, Camden Place, was swept away for many days; for good company always worth seeking; Lady Dalrymple had
the Dalrymples (in Anne’s opinion, most unfortunately) taken a house, for three months, in Laura Place, and would
were cousins of the Elliots; and the agony was how to intro- be living in style. She had been at Bath the year before, and
duce themselves properly. Lady Russell had heard her spoken of as a charming woman.
Anne had never seen her father and sister before in It was very desirable that the connexion should be renewed,
contact with nobility, and she must acknowledge herself if it could be done, without any compromise of propriety on
disappointed. She had hoped better things from their high the side of the Elliots.’
ideas of their own situation in life, and was reduced to form Sir Walter, however, would choose his own means, and
a wish which she had never foreseen; a wish that they had at last wrote a very fine letter of ample explanation, regret,
more pride; for ‘our cousins Lady Dalrymple and Miss Car- and entreaty, to his right honourable cousin. Neither Lady
teret;’ ‘our cousins, the Dalrymples,’ sounded in her ears all Russell nor Mr Elliot could admire the letter; but it did all
day long. that was wanted, in bringing three lines of scrawl from the
Sir Walter had once been in company with the late vis- Dowager Viscountess. ‘She was very much honoured, and
count, but had never seen any of the rest of the family; and should be happy in their acquaintance.’ The toils of the
the difficulties of the case arose from there having been a business were over, the sweets began. They visited in Laura
suspension of all intercourse by letters of ceremony, ever Place, they had the cards of Dowager Viscountess Dalrym-
since the death of that said late viscount, when, in conse- ple, and the Honourable Miss Carteret, to be arranged
quence of a dangerous illness of Sir Walter’s at the same wherever they might be most visible: and ‘Our cousins in

Laura Place,’—‘Our cousin, Lady Dalrymple and Miss Car- right to be fastidious than almost any other woman I know;
teret,’ were talked of to everybody. but will it answer? Will it make you happy? Will it not be
Anne was ashamed. Had Lady Dalrymple and her wiser to accept the society of those good ladies in Laura
daughter even been very agreeable, she would still have Place, and enjoy all the advantages of the connexion as far
been ashamed of the agitation they created, but they were as possible? You may depend upon it, that they will move
nothing. There was no superiority of manner, accomplish- in the first set in Bath this winter, and as rank is rank, your
ment, or understanding. Lady Dalrymple had acquired the being known to be related to them will have its use in fixing
name of ‘a charming woman,’ because she had a smile and your family (our family let me say) in that degree of consid-
a civil answer for everybody. Miss Carteret, with still less to eration which we must all wish for.’
say, was so plain and so awkward, that she would never have ‘Yes,’ sighed Anne, ‘we shall, indeed, be known to be re-
been tolerated in Camden Place but for her birth. lated to them!’ then recollecting herself, and not wishing to
Lady Russell confessed she had expected something bet- be answered, she added, ‘I certainly do think there has been
ter; but yet ‘it was an acquaintance worth having;’ and when by far too much trouble taken to procure the acquaintance.
Anne ventured to speak her opinion of them to Mr Elliot, he I suppose’ (smiling) ‘I have more pride than any of you; but
agreed to their being nothing in themselves, but still main- I confess it does vex me, that we should be so solicitous to
tained that, as a family connexion, as good company, as have the relationship acknowledged, which we may be very
those who would collect good company around them, they sure is a matter of perfect indifference to them.’
had their value. Anne smiled and said, ‘Pardon me, dear cousin, you are unjust in your own
‘My idea of good company, Mr Elliot, is the company of claims. In London, perhaps, in your present quiet style of
clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of con- living, it might be as you say: but in Bath; Sir Walter Elliot
versation; that is what I call good company.’ and his family will always be worth knowing: always ac-
‘You are mistaken,’ said he gently, ‘that is not good com- ceptable as acquaintance.’
pany; that is the best. Good company requires only birth, ‘Well,’ said Anne, ‘I certainly am proud, too proud to en-
education, and manners, and with regard to education is joy a welcome which depends so entirely upon place.’
not very nice. Birth and good manners are essential; but a ‘I love your indignation,’ said he; ‘it is very natural. But
little learning is by no means a dangerous thing in good here you are in Bath, and the object is to be established here
company; on the contrary, it will do very well. My cousin with all the credit and dignity which ought to belong to Sir
Anne shakes her head. She is not satisfied. She is fastidious. Walter Elliot. You talk of being proud; I am called proud, I
My dear cousin’ (sitting down by her), ‘you have a better 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 Chapter 17
one point, I am sure, my dear cousin,’ (he continued, speak-
ing 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 supe- While Sir Walter and Elizabeth were assiduously push-
riors, may be of use in diverting his thoughts from those ing their good fortune in Laura Place, Anne was renewing
who are beneath him.’ an acquaintance of a very different description.
He looked, as he spoke, to the seat which Mrs Clay had She had called on her former governess, and had heard
been lately occupying: a sufficient explanation of what he from her of there being an old school-fellow in Bath, who
particularly meant; and though Anne could not believe in had the two strong claims on her attention of past kind-
their having the same sort of pride, she was pleased with ness and present suffering. Miss Hamilton, now Mrs Smith,
him for not liking Mrs Clay; and her conscience admit- had shewn her kindness in one of those periods of her life
ted that his wishing to promote her father’s getting great when it had been most valuable. Anne had gone unhappy
acquaintance was more than excusable in the view of de- to school, grieving for the loss of a mother whom she had
feating her. dearly loved, feeling her separation from home, and suffer-
ing 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 rela-
tions and a settled home, remaining another year at school,
had been useful and good to her in a way which had consid-
erably lessened her misery, and could never be remembered
with indifference.
Miss Hamilton had left school, had married not long af-
terwards, 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 ex-

travagant; and at his death, about two years before, had left ow, receiving the visit of her former protegee as a favour; but
his affairs dreadfully involved. She had had difficulties of all that was uncomfortable in the meeting had soon passed
every sort to contend with, and in addition to these distress- away, and left only the interesting charm of remembering
es had been afflicted with a severe rheumatic fever, which, former partialities and talking over old times.
finally settling in her legs, had made her for the present a Anne found in Mrs Smith the good sense and agreeable
cripple. She had come to Bath on that account, and was now manners which she had almost ventured to depend on, and
in lodgings near the hot baths, living in a very humble way, a disposition to converse and be cheerful beyond her ex-
unable even to afford herself the comfort of a servant, and pectation. Neither the dissipations of the past—and she had
of course almost excluded from society. lived very much in the world—nor the restrictions of the
Their mutual friend answered for the satisfaction which present, neither sickness nor sorrow seemed to have closed
a visit from Miss Elliot would give Mrs Smith, and Anne her heart or ruined her spirits.
therefore lost no time in going. She mentioned nothing of In the course of a second visit she talked with great
what she had heard, or what she intended, at home. It would openness, and Anne’s astonishment increased. She could
excite no proper interest there. She only consulted Lady scarcely imagine a more cheerless situation in itself than
Russell, who entered thoroughly into her sentiments, and Mrs Smith’s. She had been very fond of her husband: she
was most happy to convey her as near to Mrs Smith’s lodg- had buried him. She had been used to affluence: it was gone.
ings in Westgate Buildings, as Anne chose to be taken. She had no child to connect her with life and happiness
The visit was paid, their acquaintance re-established, again, no relations to assist in the arrangement of perplexed
their interest in each other more than re-kindled. The first affairs, no health to make all the rest supportable. Her ac-
ten minutes had its awkwardness and its emotion. Twelve commodations were limited to a noisy parlour, and a dark
years were gone since they had parted, and each presented a bedroom behind, with no possibility of moving from one to
somewhat different person from what the other had imag- the other without assistance, which there was only one ser-
ined. Twelve years had changed Anne from the blooming, vant in the house to afford, and she never quitted the house
silent, unformed girl of fifteen, to the elegant little woman but to be conveyed into the warm bath. Yet, in spite of all
of seven-and-twenty, with every beauty except bloom, and this, Anne had reason to believe that she had moments only
with manners as consciously right as they were invariably of languor and depression, to hours of occupation and en-
gentle; and twelve years had transformed the fine-looking, joyment. How could it be? She watched, observed, reflected,
well-grown Miss Hamilton, in all the glow of health and and finally determined that this was not a case of fortitude
confidence of superiority, into a poor, infirm, helpless wid- or of resignation only. A submissive spirit might be patient,

a strong understanding would supply resolution, but here ‘besides nursing me most admirably, has really proved an
was something more; here was that elasticity of mind, that invaluable acquaintance. As soon as I could use my hands
disposition to be comforted, that power of turning readily she taught me to knit, which has been a great amusement;
from evil to good, and of finding employment which car- and she put me in the way of making these little thread-
ried her out of herself, which was from nature alone. It was cases, pin-cushions and card-racks, which you always find
the choicest gift of Heaven; and Anne viewed her friend as me so busy about, and which supply me with the means of
one of those instances in which, by a merciful appointment, doing a little good to one or two very poor families in this
it seems designed to counterbalance almost every other neighbourhood. She had a large acquaintance, of course
want. professionally, among those who can afford to buy, and she
There had been a time, Mrs Smith told her, when her disposes of my merchandise. She always takes the right time
spirits had nearly failed. She could not call herself an infor applying. Everybody’s heart is open, you know, when
valid now, compared with her state on first reaching Bath. they have recently escaped from severe pain, or are recov-
Then she had, indeed, been a pitiable object; for she had ering the blessing of health, and Nurse Rooke thoroughly
caught cold on the journey, and had hardly taken posses- understands when to speak. She is a shrewd, intelligent,
sion of her lodgings before she was again confined to her sensible woman. Hers is a line for seeing human nature;
bed and suffering under severe and constant pain; and all and she has a fund of good sense and observation, which,
this among strangers, with the absolute necessity of having as a companion, make her infinitely superior to thousands
a regular nurse, and finances at that moment particularly of those who having only received ‘the best education in the
unfit to meet any extraordinary expense. She had weath- world,’ know nothing worth attending to. Call it gossip, if
ered it, however, and could truly say that it had done her you will, but when Nurse Rooke has half an hour’s leisure
good. It had increased her comforts by making her feel to bestow on me, she is sure to have something to relate that
herself to be in good hands. She had seen too much of the is entertaining and profitable: something that makes one
world, to expect sudden or disinterested attachment any- know one’s species better. One likes to hear what is going
where, but her illness had proved to her that her landlady on, to be au fait as to the newest modes of being trifling and
had a character to preserve, and would not use her ill; and silly. To me, who live so much alone, her conversation, I as-
she had been particularly fortunate in her nurse, as a sister sure you, is a treat.’
of her landlady, a nurse by profession, and who had always Anne, far from wishing to cavil at the pleasure, replied,
a home in that house when unemployed, chanced to be at ‘I can easily believe it. Women of that class have great op-
liberty just in time to attend her. ‘And she,’ said Mrs Smith, portunities, and if they are intelligent may be well worth

listening to. Such varieties of human nature as they are in and of course will have nothing to report but of lace and fin-
the habit of witnessing! And it is not merely in its follies, ery. I mean to make my profit of Mrs Wallis, however. She
that they are well read; for they see it occasionally under has plenty of money, and I intend she shall buy all the high-
every circumstance that can be most interesting or af- priced things I have in hand now.’
fecting. What instances must pass before them of ardent, Anne had called several times on her friend, before the
disinterested, self-denying attachment, of heroism, forti- existence of such a person was known in Camden Place. At
tude, patience, resignation: of all the conflicts and all the last, it became necessary to speak of her. Sir Walter, Eliza-
sacrifices that ennoble us most. A sick chamber may often beth and Mrs Clay, returned one morning from Laura Place,
furnish the worth of volumes.’ with a sudden invitation from Lady Dalrymple for the same
‘Yes,’ said Mrs Smith more doubtingly, ‘sometimes it evening, and Anne was already engaged, to spend that eve-
may, though I fear its lessons are not often in the elevated ning in Westgate Buildings. She was not sorry for the excuse.
style you describe. Here and there, human nature may be They were only asked, she was sure, because Lady Dalrym-
great in times of trial; but generally speaking, it is its weak- ple being kept at home by a bad cold, was glad to make use
ness and not its strength that appears in a sick chamber: of the relationship which had been so pressed on her; and
it is selfishness and impatience rather than generosity and she declined on her own account with great alacrity—‘She
fortitude, that one hears of. There is so little real friendship was engaged to spend the evening with an old schoolfel-
in the world! and unfortunately’ (speaking low and tremu- low.’ They were not much interested in anything relative to
lously) ‘there are so many who forget to think seriously till Anne; but still there were questions enough asked, to make
it is almost too late.’ it understood what this old schoolfellow was; and Elizabeth
Anne saw the misery of such feelings. The husband had was disdainful, and Sir Walter severe.
not been what he ought, and the wife had been led among ‘Westgate Buildings!’ said he, ‘and who is Miss Anne El-
that part of mankind which made her think worse of the liot to be visiting in Westgate Buildings? A Mrs Smith. A
world than she hoped it deserved. It was but a passing emo- widow Mrs Smith; and who was her husband? One of five
tion however with Mrs Smith; she shook it off, and soon thousand Mr Smiths whose names are to be met with every-
added in a different tone— where. And what is her attraction? That she is old and sickly.
‘I do not suppose the situation my friend Mrs Rooke is in Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliot, you have the most ex-
at present, will furnish much either to interest or edify me. traordinary taste! Everything that revolts other people, low
She is only nursing Mrs Wallis of Marlborough Buildings; a company, paltry rooms, foul air, disgusting associations are
mere pretty, silly, expensive, fashionable woman, I believe; 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 reply. She left it to himself to recollect, that Mrs Smith was
she may hope to see another day. What is her age? Forty?’ not the only widow in Bath between thirty and forty, with
‘No, sir, she is not one-and-thirty; but I do not think I little to live on, and no surname of dignity.
can put off my engagement, because it is the only evening Anne kept her appointment; the others kept theirs, and
for some time which will at once suit her and myself. She of course she heard the next morning that they had had a
goes into the warm bath to-morrow, and for the rest of the delightful evening. She had been the only one of the set ab-
week, you know, we are engaged.’ sent, for Sir Walter and Elizabeth had not only been quite
‘But what does Lady Russell think of this acquaintance?’ at her ladyship’s service themselves, but had actually been
asked Elizabeth. happy to be employed by her in collecting others, and had
‘She sees nothing to blame in it,’ replied Anne; ‘on the been at the trouble of inviting both Lady Russell and Mr
contrary, she approves it, and has generally taken me when Elliot; and Mr Elliot had made a point of leaving Colonel
I have called on Mrs Smith. Wallis early, and Lady Russell had fresh arranged all her
‘Westgate Buildings must have been rather surprised by evening engagements in order to wait on her. Anne had the
the appearance of a carriage drawn up near its pavement,’ whole history of all that such an evening could supply from
observed Sir Walter. ‘Sir Henry Russell’s widow, indeed, has Lady Russell. To her, its greatest interest must be, in having
no honours to distinguish her arms, but still it is a hand- been very much talked of between her friend and Mr Elliot;
some equipage, and no doubt is well known to convey a in having been wished for, regretted, and at the same time
Miss Elliot. A widow Mrs Smith lodging in Westgate Build- honoured for staying away in such a cause. Her kind, com-
ings! A poor widow barely able to live, between thirty and passionate visits to this old schoolfellow, sick and reduced,
forty; a mere Mrs Smith, an every-day Mrs Smith, of all seemed to have quite delighted Mr Elliot. He thought her
people and all names in the world, to be the chosen friend a most extraordinary young woman; in her temper, man-
of Miss Anne Elliot, and to be preferred by her to her own ners, mind, a model of female excellence. He could meet
family connections among the nobility of England and Ire- even Lady Russell in a discussion of her merits; and Anne
land! Mrs Smith! Such a name!’ could not be given to understand so much by her friend,
Mrs Clay, who had been present while all this passed, could not know herself to be so highly rated by a sensible
now thought it advisable to leave the room, and Anne could man, without many of those agreeable sensations which her
have said much, and did long to say a little in defence of her friend meant to create.
friend’s not very dissimilar claims to theirs, but her sense of Lady Russell was now perfectly decided in her opinion
personal respect to her father prevented her. She made no of Mr Elliot. She was as much convinced of his meaning

to gain Anne in time as of his deserving her, and was be- if I might be allowed to fancy you such as she was, in situ-
ginning to calculate the number of weeks which would free ation and name, and home, presiding and blessing in the
him from all the remaining restraints of widowhood, and same spot, and only superior to her in being more high-
leave him at liberty to exert his most open powers of pleas- ly valued! My dearest Anne, it would give me more delight
ing. She would not speak to Anne with half the certainty than is often felt at my time of life!’
she felt on the subject, she would venture on little more than Anne was obliged to turn away, to rise, to walk to a dis-
hints of what might be hereafter, of a possible attachment on tant table, and, leaning there in pretended employment, try
his side, of the desirableness of the alliance, supposing such to subdue the feelings this picture excited. For a few mo-
attachment to be real and returned. Anne heard her, and ments her imagination and her heart were bewitched. The
made no violent exclamations; she only smiled, blushed, idea of becoming what her mother had been; of having the
and gently shook her head. precious name of ‘Lady Elliot’ first revived in herself; of
‘I am no match-maker, as you well know,’ said Lady Rus- being restored to Kellynch, calling it her home again, her
sell, ‘being much too well aware of the uncertainty of all home for ever, was a charm which she could not immedi-
human events and calculations. I only mean that if Mr El- ately resist. Lady Russell said not another word, willing to
liot should some time hence pay his addresses to you, and if leave the matter to its own operation; and believing that,
you should be disposed to accept him, I think there would could Mr Elliot at that moment with propriety have spo-
be every possibility of your being happy together. A most ken for himself!—she believed, in short, what Anne did not
suitable connection everybody must consider it, but I think believe. The same image of Mr Elliot speaking for himself
it might be a very happy one.’ brought Anne to composure again. The charm of Kellynch
‘Mr Elliot is an exceedingly agreeable man, and in many and of ‘Lady Elliot’ all faded away. She never could accept
respects I think highly of him,’ said Anne; ‘but we should him. And it was not only that her feelings were still adverse
not suit.’ to any man save one; her judgement, on a serious consid-
Lady Russell let this pass, and only said in rejoinder, ‘I eration of the possibilities of such a case was against Mr
own that to be able to regard you as the future mistress of Elliot.
Kellynch, the future Lady Elliot, to look forward and see Though they had now been acquainted a month, she could
you occupying your dear mother’s place, succeeding to all not be satisfied that she really knew his character. That he
her rights, and all her popularity, as well as to all her vir- was a sensible man, an agreeable man, that he talked well,
tues, would be the highest possible gratification to me. You professed good opinions, seemed to judge properly and as
are your mother’s self in countenance and disposition; and a man of principle, this was all clear enough. He certainly

knew what was right, nor could she fix on any one article of and to hold her in contempt; and yet Mrs Clay found him as
moral duty evidently transgressed; but yet she would have agreeable as any body.
been afraid to answer for his conduct. She distrusted the Lady Russell saw either less or more than her young
past, if not the present. The names which occasionally dropt friend, for she saw nothing to excite distrust. She could not
of former associates, the allusions to former practices and imagine a man more exactly what he ought to be than Mr
pursuits, suggested suspicions not favourable of what he had Elliot; nor did she ever enjoy a sweeter feeling than the hope
been. She saw that there had been bad habits; that Sunday of seeing him receive the hand of her beloved Anne in Kel-
travelling had been a common thing; that there had been a lynch church, in the course of the following autumn.
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 pres-
ence 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,

Chapter 18 ‘My dear Anne,—I make no apology for my silence, be-
cause 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
It was the beginning of February; and Anne, having been Mrs Musgrove have not had one dinner party all the holi-
a month in Bath, was growing very eager for news from Up- days. I do not reckon the Hayters as anybody. The holidays,
percross and Lyme. She wanted to hear much more than however, are over at last: I believe no children ever had such
Mary had communicated. It was three weeks since she had long ones. I am sure I had not. The house was cleared yester-
heard at all. She only knew that Henrietta was at home day, except of the little Harvilles; but you will be surprised
again; and that Louisa, though considered to be recovering to hear they have never gone home. Mrs Harville must be
fast, was still in Lyme; and she was thinking of them all very an odd mother to part with them so long. I do not under-
intently one evening, when a thicker letter than usual from stand it. They are not at all nice children, in my opinion;
Mary was delivered to her; and, to quicken the pleasure and but Mrs Musgrove seems to like them quite as well, if not
surprise, with Admiral and Mrs Croft’s compliments. better, than her grandchildren. What dreadful weather we
The Crofts must be in Bath! A circumstance to interest have had! It may not be felt in Bath, with your nice pave-
her. They were people whom her heart turned to very natu- ments; but in the country it is of some consequence. I have
rally. not had a creature call on me since the second week in Jan-
‘What is this?’ cried Sir Walter. ‘The Crofts have arrived uary, except Charles Hayter, who had been calling much
in Bath? The Crofts who rent Kellynch? What have they oftener than was welcome. Between ourselves, I think it a
brought you?’ great pity Henrietta did not remain at Lyme as long as Loui-
‘A letter from Uppercross Cottage, Sir.’ sa; it would have kept her a little out of his way. The carriage
‘Oh! those letters are convenient passports. They secure is gone to-day, to bring Louisa and the Harvilles to-mor-
an introduction. I should have visited Admiral Croft, how- row. We are not asked to dine with them, however, till the
ever, at any rate. I know what is due to my tenant.’ day after, Mrs Musgrove is so afraid of her being fatigued
Anne could listen no longer; she could not even have told by the journey, which is not very likely, considering the care
how the poor Admiral’s complexion escaped; her letter en- that will be taken of her; and it would be much more con-
grossed her. It had been begun several days back. venient to me to dine there to-morrow. I am glad you find
‘February 1st. 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 long as I like. The Admiral does not seem very ill, and I sin-
way when any thing desirable is going on; always the last of cerely hope Bath will do him all the good he wants. I shall
my family to be noticed. What an immense time Mrs Clay be truly glad to have them back again. Our neighbourhood
has been staying with Elizabeth! Does she never mean to go cannot spare such a pleasant family. But now for Louisa. I
away? But perhaps if she were to leave the room vacant, we have something to communicate that will astonish you not
might not be invited. Let me know what you think of this. a little. She and the Harvilles came on Tuesday very safely,
I do not expect my children to be asked, you know. I can and in the evening we went to ask her how she did, when
leave them at the Great House very well, for a month or six we were rather surprised not to find Captain Benwick of
weeks. I have this moment heard that the Crofts are going the party, for he had been invited as well as the Harvilles;
to Bath almost immediately; they think the Admiral gouty. and what do you think was the reason? Neither more nor
Charles heard it quite by chance; they have not had the ci- less than his being in love with Louisa, and not choosing to
vility to give me any notice, or of offering to take anything. venture to Uppercross till he had had an answer from Mr
I do not think they improve at all as neighbours. We see Musgrove; for it was all settled between him and her before
nothing of them, and this is really an instance of gross in- she came away, and he had written to her father by Captain
attention. Charles joins me in love, and everything proper. Harville. True, upon my honour! Are not you astonished?
Yours affectionately, I shall be surprised at least if you ever received a hint of it,
‘Mary M—-. for I never did. Mrs Musgrove protests solemnly that she
‘I am sorry to say that I am very far from well; and Jemima knew nothing of the matter. We are all very well pleased,
has just told me that the butcher says there is a bad sore- however, for though it is not equal to her marrying Captain
throat very much about. I dare say I shall catch it; and my Wentworth, it is infinitely better than Charles Hayter; and
sore-throats, you know, are always worse than anybody’s.’ Mr Musgrove has written his consent, and Captain Benwick
So ended the first part, which had been afterwards put is expected to-day. Mrs Harville says her husband feels a
into an envelope, containing nearly as much more. good deal on his poor sister’s account; but, however, Loui-
‘I kept my letter open, that I might send you word how sa is a great favourite with both. Indeed, Mrs Harville and
Louisa bore her journey, and now I am extremely glad I did, I quite agree that we love her the better for having nursed
having a great deal to add. In the first place, I had a note her. Charles wonders what Captain Wentworth will say; but
from Mrs Croft yesterday, offering to convey anything to if you remember, I never thought him attached to Louisa; I
you; a very kind, friendly note indeed, addressed to me, just never could see anything of it. And this is the end, you see,
as it ought; I shall therefore be able to make my letter as of Captain Benwick’s being supposed to be an admirer of

yours. How Charles could take such a thing into his head Place?’
was always incomprehensible to me. I hope he will be more ‘Oh, no! I think not. Situated as we are with Lady Dalrym-
agreeable now. Certainly not a great match for Louisa Mus- ple, cousins, we ought to be very careful not to embarrass
grove, but a million times better than marrying among the her with acquaintance she might not approve. If we were not
Hayters.’ related, it would not signify; but as cousins, she would feel
Mary need not have feared her sister’s being in any de- scrupulous as to any proposal of ours. We had better leave
gree prepared for the news. She had never in her life been the Crofts to find their own level. There are several odd-
more astonished. Captain Benwick and Louisa Musgrove! looking men walking about here, who, I am told, are sailors.
It was almost too wonderful for belief, and it was with the The Crofts will associate with them.’
greatest effort that she could remain in the room, preserve This was Sir Walter and Elizabeth’s share of interest in
an air of calmness, and answer the common questions of the letter; when Mrs Clay had paid her tribute of more de-
the moment. Happily for her, they were not many. Sir Walter cent attention, in an enquiry after Mrs Charles Musgrove,
wanted to know whether the Crofts travelled with four hors- and her fine little boys, Anne was at liberty.
es, and whether they were likely to be situated in such a part In her own room, she tried to comprehend it. Well might
of Bath as it might suit Miss Elliot and himself to visit in; but Charles wonder how Captain Wentworth would feel! Per-
had little curiosity beyond. haps he had quitted the field, had given Louisa up, had ceased
‘How is Mary?’ said Elizabeth; and without waiting for an to love, had found he did not love her. She could not endure
answer, ‘And pray what brings the Crofts to Bath?’ the idea of treachery or levity, or anything akin to ill usage
‘They come on the Admiral’s account. He is thought to between him and his friend. She could not endure that such
be gouty.’ a friendship as theirs should be severed unfairly.
‘Gout and decrepitude!’ said Sir Walter. ‘Poor old gentle- Captain Benwick and Louisa Musgrove! The high-spir-
man.’ ited, joyous-talking Louisa Musgrove, and the dejected,
‘Have they any acquaintance here?’ asked Elizabeth. thinking, feeling, reading, Captain Benwick, seemed each of
‘I do not know; but I can hardly suppose that, at Admiral them everything that would not suit the other. Their minds
Croft’s time of life, and in his profession, he should not have most dissimilar! Where could have been the attraction? The
many acquaintance in such a place as this.’ answer soon presented itself. It had been in situation. They
‘I suspect,’ said Sir Walter coolly, ‘that Admiral Croft will had been thrown together several weeks; they had been liv-
be best known in Bath as the renter of Kellynch Hall. Eliza- ing in the same small family party: since Henrietta’s coming
beth, may we venture to present him and his wife in Laura away, they must have been depending almost entirely on

each other, and Louisa, just recovering from illness, had of herself, and brought the colour into her cheeks when she
been in an interesting state, and Captain Benwick was not thought of Captain Wentworth unshackled and free. She
inconsolable. That was a point which Anne had not been able had some feelings which she was ashamed to investigate.
to avoid suspecting before; and instead of drawing the same They were too much like joy, senseless joy!
conclusion as Mary, from the present course of events, they She longed to see the Crofts; but when the meeting took
served only to confirm the idea of his having felt some dawn- place, it was evident that no rumour of the news had yet
ing of tenderness toward herself. She did not mean, however, reached them. The visit of ceremony was paid and returned;
to derive much more from it to gratify her vanity, than Mary and Louisa Musgrove was mentioned, and Captain Benwick,
might have allowed. She was persuaded that any tolerably too, without even half a smile.
pleasing young woman who had listened and seemed to feel The Crofts had placed themselves in lodgings in Gay
for him would have received the same compliment. He had Street, perfectly to Sir Walter’s satisfaction. He was not at all
an affectionate heart. He must love somebody. ashamed of the acquaintance, and did, in fact, think and talk
She saw no reason against their being happy. Louisa had a great deal more about the Admiral, than the Admiral ever
fine naval fervour to begin with, and they would soon grow thought or talked about him.
more alike. He would gain cheerfulness, and she would learn The Crofts knew quite as many people in Bath as they
to be an enthusiast for Scott and Lord Byron; nay, that was wished for, and considered their intercourse with the Elliots
probably learnt already; of course they had fallen in love over as a mere matter of form, and not in the least likely to afford
poetry. The idea of Louisa Musgrove turned into a person of them any pleasure. They brought with them their country
literary taste, and sentimental reflection was amusing, but habit of being almost always together. He was ordered to
she had no doubt of its being so. The day at Lyme, the fall walk to keep off the gout, and Mrs Croft seemed to go shares
from the Cobb, might influence her health, her nerves, her with him in everything, and to walk for her life to do him
courage, her character to the end of her life, as thoroughly as good. Anne saw them wherever she went. Lady Russell took
it appeared to have influenced her fate. her out in her carriage almost every morning, and she never
The conclusion of the whole was, that if the woman who failed to think of them, and never failed to see them. Know-
had been sensible of Captain Wentworth’s merits could be ing their feelings as she did, it was a most attractive picture
allowed to prefer another man, there was nothing in the of happiness to her. She always watched them as long as she
engagement to excite lasting wonder; and if Captain Went- could, delighted to fancy she understood what they might
worth lost no friend by it, certainly nothing to be regretted. be talking of, as they walked along in happy independence,
No, it was not regret which made Anne’s heart beat in spite or equally delighted to see the Admiral’s hearty shake of the

hand when he encountered an old friend, and observe their where for you, or with you? Can I be of any use?’
eagerness of conversation when occasionally forming into a ‘None, I thank you, unless you will give me the pleasure
little knot of the navy, Mrs Croft looking as intelligent and of your company the little way our road lies together. I am
keen as any of the officers around her. going home.’
Anne was too much engaged with Lady Russell to be of- ‘That I will, with all my heart, and farther, too. Yes, yes
ten walking herself; but it so happened that one morning, we will have a snug walk together, and I have something to
about a week or ten days after the Croft’s arrival, it suited her tell you as we go along. There, take my arm; that’s right; I do
best to leave her friend, or her friend’s carriage, in the lower not feel comfortable if I have not a woman there. Lord! what
part of the town, and return alone to Camden Place, and in a boat it is!’ taking a last look at the picture, as they began to
walking up Milsom Street she had the good fortune to meet be in motion.
with the Admiral. He was standing by himself at a printshop ‘Did you say that you had something to tell me, sir?’
window, with his hands behind him, in earnest contempla- ‘Yes, I have, presently. But here comes a friend, Captain
tion of some print, and she not only might have passed him Brigden; I shall only say, ‘How d’ye do?’ as we pass, however.
unseen, but was obliged to touch as well as address him be- I shall not stop. ‘How d’ye do?’ Brigden stares to see any-
fore she could catch his notice. When he did perceive and body with me but my wife. She, poor soul, is tied by the leg.
acknowledge her, however, it was done with all his usu- She has a blister on one of her heels, as large as a three-shil-
al frankness and good humour. ‘Ha! is it you? Thank you, ling piece. If you look across the street, you will see Admiral
thank you. This is treating me like a friend. Here I am, you Brand coming down and his brother. Shabby fellows, both of
see, staring at a picture. I can never get by this shop without them! I am glad they are not on this side of the way. Sophy
stopping. But what a thing here is, by way of a boat! Do look cannot bear them. They played me a pitiful trick once: got
at it. Did you ever see the like? What queer fellows your fine away with some of my best men. I will tell you the whole
painters must be, to think that anybody would venture their story another time. There comes old Sir Archibald Drew and
lives in such a shapeless old cockleshell as that? And yet here his grandson. Look, he sees us; he kisses his hand to you; he
are two gentlemen stuck up in it mightily at their ease, and takes you for my wife. Ah! the peace has come too soon for
looking about them at the rocks and mountains, as if they that younker. Poor old Sir Archibald! How do you like Bath,
were not to be upset the next moment, which they certain- Miss Elliot? It suits us very well. We are always meeting with
ly must be. I wonder where that boat was built!’ (laughing some old friend or other; the streets full of them every morn-
heartily); ‘I would not venture over a horsepond in it. Well,’ ing; sure to have plenty of chat; and then we get away from
(turning away), ‘now, where are you bound? Can I go any- them all, and shut ourselves in our lodgings, and draw in

our chairs, and are snug as if we were at Kellynch, ay, or as enough that they must wait till her brain was set to right.
we used to be even at North Yarmouth and Deal. We do not But even then there was something odd in their way of going
like our lodgings here the worse, I can tell you, for putting us on. Instead of staying at Lyme, he went off to Plymouth, and
in mind of those we first had at North Yarmouth. The wind then he went off to see Edward. When we came back from
blows through one of the cupboards just in the same way.’ Minehead he was gone down to Edward’s, and there he has
When they were got a little farther, Anne ventured to been ever since. We have seen nothing of him since Novem-
press again for what he had to communicate. She hoped ber. Even Sophy could not understand it. But now, the matter
when clear of Milsom Street to have her curiosity gratified; has take the strangest turn of all; for this young lady, the
but she was still obliged to wait, for the Admiral had made same Miss Musgrove, instead of being to marry Frederick, is
up his mind not to begin till they had gained the greater to marry James Benwick. You know James Benwick.’
space and quiet of Belmont; and as she was not really Mrs ‘A little. I am a little acquainted with Captain Benwick.’
Croft, she must let him have his own way. As soon as they ‘Well, she is to marry him. Nay, most likely they are mar-
were fairly ascending Belmont, he began— ried already, for I do not know what they should wait for.’
‘Well, now you shall hear something that will surprise ‘I thought Captain Benwick a very pleasing young man,’
you. But first of all, you must tell me the name of the young said Anne, ‘and I understand that he bears an excellent char-
lady I am going to talk about. That young lady, you know, acter.’
that we have all been so concerned for. The Miss Musgrove, ‘Oh! yes, yes, there is not a word to be said against James
that all this has been happening to. Her Christian name: I Benwick. He is only a commander, it is true, made last sum-
always forget her Christian name.’ mer, and these are bad times for getting on, but he has not
Anne had been ashamed to appear to comprehend so another fault that I know of. An excellent, good-hearted fel-
soon as she really did; but now she could safely suggest the low, I assure you; a very active, zealous officer too, which is
name of ‘Louisa.’ more than you would think for, perhaps, for that soft sort of
‘Ay, ay, Miss Louisa Musgrove, that is the name. I wish manner does not do him justice.’
young ladies had not such a number of fine Christian names. ‘Indeed you are mistaken there, sir; I should never augur
I should never be out if they were all Sophys, or something want of spirit from Captain Benwick’s manners. I thought
of that sort. Well, this Miss Louisa, we all thought, you them particularly pleasing, and I will answer for it, they
know, was to marry Frederick. He was courting her week would generally please.’
after week. The only wonder was, what they could be waiting ‘Well, well, ladies are the best judges; but James Benwick
for, till the business at Lyme came; then, indeed, it was clear is rather too piano for me; and though very likely it is all

our partiality, Sophy and I cannot help thinking Frederick’s ‘Certainly. But what I mean is, that I hope there is noth-
manners better than his. There is something about Frederick ing in Captain Wentworth’s manner of writing to make
more to our taste.’ you suppose he thinks himself ill-used by his friend, which
Anne was caught. She had only meant to oppose the too might appear, you know, without its being absolutely said. I
common idea of spirit and gentleness being incompatible should be very sorry that such a friendship as has subsisted
with each other, not at all to represent Captain Benwick’s between him and Captain Benwick should be destroyed, or
manners as the very best that could possibly be; and, after a even wounded, by a circumstance of this sort.’
little hesitation, she was beginning to say, ‘I was not enter- ‘Yes, yes, I understand you. But there is nothing at all of
ing into any comparison of the two friends,’ but the Admiral that nature in the letter. He does not give the least fling at
interrupted her with— Benwick; does not so much as say, ‘I wonder at it, I have a
‘And the thing is certainly true. It is not a mere bit of gos- reason of my own for wondering at it.’ No, you would not
sip. We have it from Frederick himself. His sister had a letter guess, from his way of writing, that he had ever thought of
from him yesterday, in which he tells us of it, and he had just this Miss (what’s her name?) for himself. He very handsome-
had it in a letter from Harville, written upon the spot, from ly hopes they will be happy together; and there is nothing
Uppercross. I fancy they are all at Uppercross.’ very unforgiving in that, I think.’
This was an opportunity which Anne could not resist; Anne did not receive the perfect conviction which the
she said, therefore, ‘I hope, Admiral, I hope there is nothing Admiral meant to convey, but it would have been useless to
in the style of Captain Wentworth’s letter to make you and press the enquiry farther. She therefore satisfied herself with
Mrs Croft particularly uneasy. It did seem, last autumn, as common-place remarks or quiet attention, and the Admiral
if there were an attachment between him and Louisa Mus- had it all his own way.
grove; but I hope it may be understood to have worn out on ‘Poor Frederick!’ said he at last. ‘Now he must begin all
each side equally, and without violence. I hope his letter does over again with somebody else. I think we must get him to
not breathe the spirit of an ill-used man.’ Bath. Sophy must write, and beg him to come to Bath. Here
‘Not at all, not at all; there is not an oath or a murmur are pretty girls enough, I am sure. It would be of no use to go
from beginning to end.’ to Uppercross again, for that other Miss Musgrove, I find, is
Anne looked down to hide her smile. bespoke by her cousin, the young parson. Do not you think,
‘No, no; Frederick is not a man to whine and complain; Miss Elliot, we had better try to get him to Bath?’
he has too much spirit for that. If the girl likes another man
better, it is very fit she should have him.’

Chapter 19 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,
While Admiral Croft was taking this walk with Anne, and it was discussed between them with a generosity so po-
and expressing his wish of getting Captain Wentworth to lite and so determined, that the others were obliged to settle
Bath, Captain Wentworth was already on his way thither. it for them; Miss Elliot maintaining that Mrs Clay had a lit-
Before Mrs Croft had written, he was arrived, and the very tle cold already, and Mr Elliot deciding on appeal, that his
next time Anne walked out, she saw him. cousin Anne’s boots were rather the thickest.
Mr Elliot was attending his two cousins and Mrs Clay. It was fixed accordingly, that Mrs Clay should be of the
They were in Milsom Street. It began to rain, not much, party in the carriage; and they had just reached this point,
but enough to make shelter desirable for women, and quite when Anne, as she sat near the window, descried, most de-
enough to make it very desirable for Miss Elliot to have the cidedly and distinctly, Captain Wentworth walking down
advantage of being conveyed home in Lady Dalrymple’s car- the street.
riage, which was seen waiting at a little distance; she, Anne, Her start was perceptible only to herself; but she instant-
and Mrs Clay, therefore, turned into Molland’s, while Mr ly felt that she was the greatest simpleton in the world, the
Elliot stepped to Lady Dalrymple, to request her assistance. most unaccountable and absurd! For a few minutes she saw
He soon joined them again, successful, of course; Lady Dal- nothing before her; it was all confusion. She was lost, and
rymple would be most happy to take them home, and would when she had scolded back her senses, she found the others
call for them in a few minutes. still waiting for the carriage, and Mr Elliot (always oblig-
Her ladyship’s carriage was a barouche, and did not ing) just setting off for Union Street on a commission of
hold more than four with any comfort. Miss Carteret was Mrs Clay’s.
with her mother; consequently it was not reasonable to ex- She now felt a great inclination to go to the outer door;
pect accommodation for all the three Camden Place ladies. she wanted to see if it rained. Why was she to suspect her-
There could be no doubt as to Miss Elliot. Whoever suffered self of another motive? Captain Wentworth must be out of
inconvenience, she must suffer none, but it occupied a little sight. She left her seat, she would go; one half of her should
time to settle the point of civility between the other two. not be always so much wiser than the other half, or always
The rain was a mere trifle, and Anne was most sincere in suspecting the other of being worse than it was. She would

see if it rained. She was sent back, however, in a moment by of his own arch significance as he named her; but yet it was
the entrance of Captain Wentworth himself, among a par- Captain Wentworth not comfortable, not easy, not able to
ty of gentlemen and ladies, evidently his acquaintance, and feign that he was.
whom he must have joined a little below Milsom Street. He It did not surprise, but it grieved Anne to observe that
was more obviously struck and confused by the sight of her Elizabeth would not know him. She saw that he saw Eliz-
than she had ever observed before; he looked quite red. For abeth, that Elizabeth saw him, that there was complete
the first time, since their renewed acquaintance, she felt that internal recognition on each side; she was convinced that he
she was betraying the least sensibility of the two. She had was ready to be acknowledged as an acquaintance, expect-
the advantage of him in the preparation of the last few mo- ing it, and she had the pain of seeing her sister turn away
ments. All the overpowering, blinding, bewildering, first with unalterable coldness.
effects of strong surprise were over with her. Still, however, Lady Dalrymple’s carriage, for which Miss Elliot was
she had enough to feel! It was agitation, pain, pleasure, a growing very impatient, now drew up; the servant came in
something between delight and misery. to announce it. It was beginning to rain again, and alto-
He spoke to her, and then turned away. The character of gether there was a delay, and a bustle, and a talking, which
his manner was embarrassment. She could not have called must make all the little crowd in the shop understand that
it either cold or friendly, or anything so certainly as embar- Lady Dalrymple was calling to convey Miss Elliot. At last
rassed. Miss Elliot and her friend, unattended but by the servant,
After a short interval, however, he came towards her, (for there was no cousin returned), were walking off; and
and spoke again. Mutual enquiries on common subjects Captain Wentworth, watching them, turned again to Anne,
passed: neither of them, probably, much the wiser for what and by manner, rather than words, was offering his services
they heard, and Anne continuing fully sensible of his being to her.
less at ease than formerly. They had by dint of being so very ‘I am much obliged to you,’ was her answer, ‘but I am not
much together, got to speak to each other with a consid- going with them. The carriage would not accommodate so
erable portion of apparent indifference and calmness; but many. I walk: I prefer walking.’
he could not do it now. Time had changed him, or Louisa ‘But it rains.’
had changed him. There was consciousness of some sort or ‘Oh! very little, Nothing that I regard.’
other. He looked very well, not as if he had been suffering in After a moment’s pause he said: ‘Though I came only
health or spirits, and he talked of Uppercross, of the Mus- yesterday, I have equipped myself properly for Bath already,
groves, nay, even of Louisa, and had even a momentary look you see,’ (pointing to a new umbrella); ‘I wish you would

make use of it, if you are determined to walk; though I think fess I admire her more than her sister.’
it would be more prudent to let me get you a chair.’ ‘Oh! so do I.’
She was very much obliged to him, but declined it all, re- ‘And so do I. No comparison. But the men are all wild
peating her conviction, that the rain would come to nothing after Miss Elliot. Anne is too delicate for them.’
at present, and adding, ‘I am only waiting for Mr Elliot. He Anne would have been particularly obliged to her cousin,
will be here in a moment, I am sure.’ if he would have walked by her side all the way to Cam-
She had hardly spoken the words when Mr Elliot walked den Place, without saying a word. She had never found it
in. Captain Wentworth recollected him perfectly. There so difficult to listen to him, though nothing could exceed
was no difference between him and the man who had stood his solicitude and care, and though his subjects were prin-
on the steps at Lyme, admiring Anne as she passed, except cipally such as were wont to be always interesting: praise,
in the air and look and manner of the privileged relation warm, just, and discriminating, of Lady Russell, and in-
and friend. He came in with eagerness, appeared to see and sinuations highly rational against Mrs Clay. But just now
think only of her, apologised for his stay, was grieved to she could think only of Captain Wentworth. She could not
have kept her waiting, and anxious to get her away without understand his present feelings, whether he were really suf-
further loss of time and before the rain increased; and in fering much from disappointment or not; and till that point
another moment they walked off together, her arm under were settled, she could not be quite herself.
his, a gentle and embarrassed glance, and a ‘Good morning She hoped to be wise and reasonable in time; but alas!
to you!’ being all that she had time for, as she passed away. alas! she must confess to herself that she was not wise yet.
As soon as they were out of sight, the ladies of Captain Another circumstance very essential for her to know,
Wentworth’s party began talking of them. was how long he meant to be in Bath; he had not mentioned
‘Mr Elliot does not dislike his cousin, I fancy?’ it, or she could not recollect it. He might be only passing
‘Oh! no, that is clear enough. One can guess what will through. But it was more probable that he should be come
happen there. He is always with them; half lives in the fam- to stay. In that case, so liable as every body was to meet ev-
ily, I believe. What a very good-looking man!’ ery body in Bath, Lady Russell would in all likelihood see
‘Yes, and Miss Atkinson, who dined with him once at the him somewhere. Would she recollect him? How would it
Wallises, says he is the most agreeable man she ever was in all be?
company with.’ She had already been obliged to tell Lady Russell that
‘She is pretty, I think; Anne Elliot; very pretty, when one Louisa Musgrove was to marry Captain Benwick. It had
comes to look at her. It is not the fashion to say so, but I con- cost her something to encounter Lady Russell’s surprise;

and now, if she were by any chance to be thrown into com- ‘You will wonder,’ said she, ‘what has been fixing my
pany with Captain Wentworth, her imperfect knowledge eye so long; but I was looking after some window-curtains,
of the matter might add another shade of prejudice against which Lady Alicia and Mrs Frankland were telling me of
him. last night. They described the drawing-room window-cur-
The following morning Anne was out with her friend, and tains of one of the houses on this side of the way, and this
for the first hour, in an incessant and fearful sort of watch part of the street, as being the handsomest and best hung
for him in vain; but at last, in returning down Pulteney of any in Bath, but could not recollect the exact number,
Street, she distinguished him on the right hand pavement at and I have been trying to find out which it could be; but I
such a distance as to have him in view the greater part of the confess I can see no curtains hereabouts that answer their
street. There were many other men about him, many groups description.’
walking the same way, but there was no mistaking him. She Anne sighed and blushed and smiled, in pity and disdain,
looked instinctively at Lady Russell; but not from any mad either at her friend or herself. The part which provoked her
idea of her recognising him so soon as she did herself. No, most, was that in all this waste of foresight and caution, she
it was not to be supposed that Lady Russell would perceive should have lost the right moment for seeing whether he
him till they were nearly opposite. She looked at her how- saw them.
ever, from time to time, anxiously; and when the moment A day or two passed without producing anything. The
approached which must point him out, though not daring theatre or the rooms, where he was most likely to be, were
to look again (for her own countenance she knew was unfit not fashionable enough for the Elliots, whose evening
to be seen), she was yet perfectly conscious of Lady Rus- amusements were solely in the elegant stupidity of pri-
sell’s eyes being turned exactly in the direction for him— of vate parties, in which they were getting more and more
her being, in short, intently observing him. She could thor- engaged; and Anne, wearied of such a state of stagnation,
oughly comprehend the sort of fascination he must possess sick of knowing nothing, and fancying herself stronger be-
over Lady Russell’s mind, the difficulty it must be for her cause her strength was not tried, was quite impatient for the
to withdraw her eyes, the astonishment she must be feeling concert evening. It was a concert for the benefit of a per-
that eight or nine years should have passed over him, and son patronised by Lady Dalrymple. Of course they must
in foreign climes and in active service too, without robbing attend. It was really expected to be a good one, and Captain
him of one personal grace! Wentworth was very fond of music. If she could only have
At last, Lady Russell drew back her head. ‘Now, how a few minutes conversation with him again, she fancied she
would she speak of him?’ should be satisfied; and as to the power of addressing him,

she felt all over courage if the opportunity occurred. Eliza-
beth had turned from him, Lady Russell overlooked him; Chapter 20
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 Sir Walter, his two daughters, and Mrs Clay, were the ear-
herself and put it off, with the more decided promise of a liest of all their party at the rooms in the evening; and as
longer visit on the morrow. Mrs Smith gave a most good- Lady Dalrymple must be waited for, they took their station
humoured acquiescence. by one of the fires in the Octagon Room. But hardly were
‘By all means,’ said she; ‘only tell me all about it, when they so settled, when the door opened again, and Captain
you do come. Who is your party?’ Wentworth walked in alone. Anne was the nearest to him,
Anne named them all. Mrs Smith made no reply; but and making yet a little advance, she instantly spoke. He was
when she was leaving her said, and with an expression half preparing only to bow and pass on, but her gentle ‘How do
serious, half arch, ‘Well, I heartily wish your concert may you do?’ brought him out of the straight line to stand near
answer; and do not fail me to-morrow if you can come; for I her, and make enquiries in return, in spite of the formidable
begin to have a foreboding that I may not have many more father and sister in the back ground. Their being in the back
visits from you.’ ground was a support to Anne; she knew nothing of their
Anne was startled and confused; but after standing looks, and felt equal to everything which she believed right
in a moment’s suspense, was obliged, and not sorry to be to be done.
obliged, to hurry away. While they were speaking, a whispering between her
father and Elizabeth caught her ear. She could not dis-
tinguish, 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 ac-
knowledgement of acquaintance, and she was just in time
by a side glance to see a slight curtsey from Elizabeth her-
self. 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 piness; more than perhaps—‘
said at last, that she was expecting him to go every moment, He stopped. A sudden recollection seemed to occur, and
but he did not; he seemed in no hurry to leave her; and pres- to give him some taste of that emotion which was redden-
ently with renewed spirit, with a little smile, a little glow, ing Anne’s cheeks and fixing her eyes on the ground. After
he said— clearing his throat, however, he proceeded thus—
‘I have hardly seen you since our day at Lyme. I am afraid ‘I confess that I do think there is a disparity, too great a
you must have suffered from the shock, and the more from disparity, and in a point no less essential than mind. I re-
its not overpowering you at the time.’ gard Louisa Musgrove as a very amiable, sweet-tempered
She assured him that she had not. girl, and not deficient in understanding, but Benwick is
‘It was a frightful hour,’ said he, ‘a frightful day!’ and he something more. He is a clever man, a reading man; and I
passed his hand across his eyes, as if the remembrance were confess, that I do consider his attaching himself to her with
still too painful, but in a moment, half smiling again, add- some surprise. Had it been the effect of gratitude, had he
ed, ‘The day has produced some effects however; has had learnt to love her, because he believed her to be preferring
some consequences which must be considered as the very him, it would have been another thing. But I have no rea-
reverse of frightful. When you had the presence of mind to son to suppose it so. It seems, on the contrary, to have been
suggest that Benwick would be the properest person to fetch a perfectly spontaneous, untaught feeling on his side, and
a surgeon, you could have little idea of his being eventually this surprises me. A man like him, in his situation! with
one of those most concerned in her recovery.’ a heart pierced, wounded, almost broken! Fanny Harville
‘Certainly I could have none. But it appears—I should was a very superior creature, and his attachment to her was
hope it would be a very happy match. There are on both indeed attachment. A man does not recover from such a de-
sides good principles and good temper.’ votion of the heart to such a woman. He ought not; he does
‘Yes,’ said he, looking not exactly forward; ‘but there, I not.’
think, ends the resemblance. With all my soul I wish them Either from the consciousness, however, that his friend
happy, and rejoice over every circumstance in favour of it. had recovered, or from other consciousness, he went no far-
They have no difficulties to contend with at home, no oppo- ther; and Anne who, in spite of the agitated voice in which
sition, no caprice, no delays. The Musgroves are behaving the latter part had been uttered, and in spite of all the var-
like themselves, most honourably and kindly, only anxious noises of the room, the almost ceaseless slam of the
ious with true parental hearts to promote their daughter’s door, and ceaseless buzz of persons walking through, had
comfort. All this is much, very much in favour of their hap- distinguished every word, was struck, gratified, confused,

and beginning to breathe very quick, and feel an hundred some recollections), ‘altogether my impressions of the place
things in a moment. It was impossible for her to enter on are very agreeable.’
such a subject; and yet, after a pause, feeling the necessity As she ceased, the entrance door opened again, and the
of speaking, and having not the smallest wish for a total very party appeared for whom they were waiting. ‘Lady
change, she only deviated so far as to say— Dalrymple, Lady Dalrymple,’ was the rejoicing sound; and
‘You were a good while at Lyme, I think?’ with all the eagerness compatible with anxious elegance,
‘About a fortnight. I could not leave it till Louisa’s doing Sir Walter and his two ladies stepped forward to meet her.
well was quite ascertained. I had been too deeply concerned Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret, escorted by Mr Elliot
in the mischief to be soon at peace. It had been my doing, and Colonel Wallis, who had happened to arrive nearly at
solely mine. She would not have been obstinate if I had not the same instant, advanced into the room. The others joined
been weak. The country round Lyme is very fine. I walked them, and it was a group in which Anne found herself
and rode a great deal; and the more I saw, the more I found also necessarily included. She was divided from Captain
to admire.’ Wentworth. Their interesting, almost too interesting con-
‘I should very much like to see Lyme again,’ said Anne. versation must be broken up for a time, but slight was the
‘Indeed! I should not have supposed that you could have penance compared with the happiness which brought it on!
found anything in Lyme to inspire such a feeling. The hor- She had learnt, in the last ten minutes, more of his feelings
ror and distress you were involved in, the stretch of mind, towards Louisa, more of all his feelings than she dared to
the wear of spirits! I should have thought your last impres- think of; and she gave herself up to the demands of the par-
sions of Lyme must have been strong disgust.’ ty, to the needful civilities of the moment, with exquisite,
‘The last hours were certainly very painful,’ replied though agitated sensations. She was in good humour with
Anne; ‘but when pain is over, the remembrance of it often all. She had received ideas which disposed her to be cour-
becomes a pleasure. One does not love a place the less for teous and kind to all, and to pity every one, as being less
having suffered in it, unless it has been all suffering, noth- happy than herself.
ing but suffering, which was by no means the case at Lyme. The delightful emotions were a little subdued, when on
We were only in anxiety and distress during the last two stepping back from the group, to be joined again by Cap-
hours, and previously there had been a great deal of enjoy- tain Wentworth, she saw that he was gone. She was just in
ment. So much novelty and beauty! I have travelled so little, time to see him turn into the Concert Room. He was gone;
that every fresh place would be interesting to me; but there he had disappeared, she felt a moment’s regret. But ‘they
is real beauty at Lyme; and in short’ (with a faint blush at should meet again. He would look for her, he would find her

out before the evening were over, and at present, perhaps, it declared that he had a heart returning to her at least; that
was as well to be asunder. She was in need of a little interval anger, resentment, avoidance, were no more; and that they
for recollection.’ were succeeded, not merely by friendship and regard, but by
Upon Lady Russell’s appearance soon afterwards, the the tenderness of the past. Yes, some share of the tenderness
whole party was collected, and all that remained was to of the past. She could not contemplate the change as imply-
marshal themselves, and proceed into the Concert Room; ing less. He must love her.
and be of all the consequence in their power, draw as many These were thoughts, with their attendant visions, which
eyes, excite as many whispers, and disturb as many people occupied and flurried her too much to leave her any power
as they could. of observation; and she passed along the room without hav-
Very, very happy were both Elizabeth and Anne Elliot as ing a glimpse of him, without even trying to discern him.
they walked in. Elizabeth arm in arm with Miss Carteret, When their places were determined on, and they were all
and looking on the broad back of the dowager Viscountess properly arranged, she looked round to see if he should hap-
Dalrymple before her, had nothing to wish for which did pen to be in the same part of the room, but he was not; her
not seem within her reach; and Anne—but it would be an eye could not reach him; and the concert being just open-
insult to the nature of Anne’s felicity, to draw any compari- ing, she must consent for a time to be happy in a humbler
son between it and her sister’s; the origin of one all selfish way.
vanity, of the other all generous attachment. The party was divided and disposed of on two contigu-
Anne saw nothing, thought nothing of the brilliancy of ous benches: Anne was among those on the foremost, and
the room. Her happiness was from within. Her eyes were Mr Elliot had manoeuvred so well, with the assistance of
bright and her cheeks glowed; but she knew nothing about his friend Colonel Wallis, as to have a seat by her. Miss El-
it. She was thinking only of the last half hour, and as they liot, surrounded by her cousins, and the principal object of
passed to their seats, her mind took a hasty range over it. Colonel Wallis’s gallantry, was quite contented.
His choice of subjects, his expressions, and still more his Anne’s mind was in a most favourable state for the en-
manner and look, had been such as she could see in only tertainment of the evening; it was just occupation enough:
one light. His opinion of Louisa Musgrove’s inferiority, an she had feelings for the tender, spirits for the gay, attention
opinion which he had seemed solicitous to give, his wonder for the scientific, and patience for the wearisome; and had
at Captain Benwick, his feelings as to a first, strong attach- never liked a concert better, at least during the first act. To-
ment; sentences begun which he could not finish, his half wards the close of it, in the interval succeeding an Italian
averted eyes and more than half expressive glance, all, all song, she explained the words of the song to Mr Elliot. They

had a concert bill between them. had heard you described by those who knew you intimately.
‘This,’ said she, ‘is nearly the sense, or rather the meaning I have been acquainted with you by character many years.
of the words, for certainly the sense of an Italian love-song Your person, your disposition, accomplishments, manner;
must not be talked of, but it is as nearly the meaning as I can they were all present to me.’
give; for I do not pretend to understand the language. I am a Mr Elliot was not disappointed in the interest he hoped
very poor Italian scholar.’ to raise. No one can withstand the charm of such a mystery.
‘Yes, yes, I see you are. I see you know nothing of the To have been described long ago to a recent acquaintance,
matter. You have only knowledge enough of the language to by nameless people, is irresistible; and Anne was all curios-
translate at sight these inverted, transposed, curtailed Ital- ity. She wondered, and questioned him eagerly; but in vain.
ian lines, into clear, comprehensible, elegant English. You He delighted in being asked, but he would not tell.
need not say anything more of your ignorance. Here is com- ‘No, no, some time or other, perhaps, but not now. He
plete proof.’ would mention no names now; but such, he could assure
‘I will not oppose such kind politeness; but I should be her, had been the fact. He had many years ago received such
sorry to be examined by a real proficient.’ a description of Miss Anne Elliot as had inspired him with
‘I have not had the pleasure of visiting in Camden Place the highest idea of her merit, and excited the warmest curi-
so long,’ replied he, ‘without knowing something of Miss osity to know her.’
Anne Elliot; and I do regard her as one who is too modest Anne could think of no one so likely to have spoken with
for the world in general to be aware of half her accomplish- partiality of her many years ago as the Mr Wentworth of
ments, and too highly accomplished for modesty to be Monkford, Captain Wentworth’s brother. He might have
natural in any other woman.’ been in Mr Elliot’s company, but she had not courage to ask
‘For shame! for shame! this is too much flattery. I forget the question.
what we are to have next,’ turning to the bill. ‘The name of Anne Elliot,’ said he, ‘has long had an in-
‘Perhaps,’ said Mr Elliot, speaking low, ‘I have had a lon- teresting sound to me. Very long has it possessed a charm
ger acquaintance with your character than you are aware over my fancy; and, if I dared, I would breathe my wishes
of.’ that the name might never change.’
‘Indeed! How so? You can have been acquainted with it Such, she believed, were his words; but scarcely had
only since I came to Bath, excepting as you might hear me she received their sound, than her attention was caught by
previously spoken of in my own family.’ other sounds immediately behind her, which rendered ev-
‘I knew you by report long before you came to Bath. I ery thing else trivial. Her father and Lady Dalrymple were

speaking. had the pleasure of getting rid of Mr Elliot; and she did not
‘A well-looking man,’ said Sir Walter, ‘a very well-look- mean, whatever she might feel on Lady Russell’s account, to
ing man.’ shrink from conversation with Captain Wentworth, if he
‘A very fine young man indeed!’ said Lady Dalrymple. gave her the opportunity. She was persuaded by Lady Rus-
‘More air than one often sees in Bath. Irish, I dare say.’ sell’s countenance that she had seen him.
‘No, I just know his name. A bowing acquaintance. Went- He did not come however. Anne sometimes fancied she
worth; Captain Wentworth of the navy. His sister married discerned him at a distance, but he never came. The anxious
my tenant in Somersetshire, the Croft, who rents Kellynch.’ interval wore away unproductively. The others returned, the
Before Sir Walter had reached this point, Anne’s eyes room filled again, benches were reclaimed and repossessed,
had caught the right direction, and distinguished Captain and another hour of pleasure or of penance was to be sat
Wentworth standing among a cluster of men at a little dis- out, another hour of music was to give delight or the gapes,
tance. As her eyes fell on him, his seemed to be withdrawn as real or affected taste for it prevailed. To Anne, it chiefly
from her. It had that appearance. It seemed as if she had wore the prospect of an hour of agitation. She could not quit
been one moment too late; and as long as she dared observe, that room in peace without seeing Captain Wentworth once
he did not look again: but the performance was recommenc- more, without the interchange of one friendly look.
ing, and she was forced to seem to restore her attention to In re-settling themselves there were now many changes,
the orchestra and look straight forward. the result of which was favourable for her. Colonel Wallis
When she could give another glance, he had moved declined sitting down again, and Mr Elliot was invited by
away. He could not have come nearer to her if he would; she Elizabeth and Miss Carteret, in a manner not to be refused,
was so surrounded and shut in: but she would rather have to sit between them; and by some other removals, and a lit-
caught his eye. tle scheming of her own, Anne was enabled to place herself
Mr Elliot’s speech, too, distressed her. She had no longer much nearer the end of the bench than she had been be-
any inclination to talk to him. She wished him not so near fore, much more within reach of a passer-by. She could not
her. do so, without comparing herself with Miss Larolles, the
The first act was over. Now she hoped for some benefi- inimitable Miss Larolles; but still she did it, and not with
cial change; and, after a period of nothing-saying amongst much happier effect; though by what seemed prosperity in
the party, some of them did decide on going in quest of the shape of an early abdication in her next neighbours, she
tea. Anne was one of the few who did not choose to move. found herself at the very end of the bench before the con-
She remained in her seat, and so did Lady Russell; but she cert closed.

Such was her situation, with a vacant space at hand, when of farewell. ‘He must wish her good night; he was going; he
Captain Wentworth was again in sight. She saw him not far should get home as fast as he could.’
off. He saw her too; yet he looked grave, and seemed irreso- ‘Is not this song worth staying for?’ said Anne, suddenly
lute, and only by very slow degrees came at last near enough struck by an idea which made her yet more anxious to be
to speak to her. She felt that something must be the mat- encouraging.
ter. The change was indubitable. The difference between his ‘No!’ he replied impressively, ‘there is nothing worth my
present air and what it had been in the Octagon Room was staying for;’ and he was gone directly.
strikingly great. Why was it? She thought of her father, of Jealousy of Mr Elliot! It was the only intelligible motive.
Lady Russell. Could there have been any unpleasant glanc- Captain Wentworth jealous of her affection! Could she have
es? He began by speaking of the concert gravely, more like believed it a week ago; three hours ago! For a moment the
the Captain Wentworth of Uppercross; owned himself dis- gratification was exquisite. But, alas! there were very dif-
appointed, had expected singing; and in short, must confess ferent thoughts to succeed. How was such jealousy to be
that he should not be sorry when it was over. Anne replied, quieted? How was the truth to reach him? How, in all the
and spoke in defence of the performance so well, and yet peculiar disadvantages of their respective situations, would
in allowance for his feelings so pleasantly, that his counte- he ever learn of her real sentiments? It was misery to think
nance improved, and he replied again with almost a smile. of Mr Elliot’s attentions. Their evil was incalculable.
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 ac-
costed by Captain Wentworth, in a reserved yet hurried sort

Chapter 21 She was sure of a pleasant reception; and her friend
seemed this morning particularly obliged to her for com-
ing, seemed hardly to have expected her, though it had been
an appointment.
An account of the concert was immediately claimed; and
Anne recollected with pleasure the next morning her Anne’s recollections of the concert were quite happy enough
promise of going to Mrs Smith, meaning that it should en- to animate her features and make her rejoice to talk of it. All
gage her from home at the time when Mr Elliot would be that she could tell she told most gladly, but the all was little
most likely to call; for to avoid Mr Elliot was almost a first for one who had been there, and unsatisfactory for such an
object. enquirer as Mrs Smith, who had already heard, through the
She felt a great deal of good-will towards him. In spite of short cut of a laundress and a waiter, rather more of the gen-
the mischief of his attentions, she owed him gratitude and eral success and produce of the evening than Anne could
regard, perhaps compassion. She could not help thinking relate, and who now asked in vain for several particulars of
much of the extraordinary circumstances attending their the company. Everybody of any consequence or notoriety in
acquaintance, of the right which he seemed to have to inter- Bath was well know by name to Mrs Smith.
est her, by everything in situation, by his own sentiments, ‘The little Durands were there, I conclude,’ said she, ‘with
by his early prepossession. It was altogether very extraor- their mouths open to catch the music, like unfledged spar-
dinary; flattering, but painful. There was much to regret. rows ready to be fed. They never miss a concert.’
How she might have felt had there been no Captain Went- ‘Yes; I did not see them myself, but I heard Mr Elliot say
worth in the case, was not worth enquiry; for there was a they were in the room.’
Captain Wentworth; and be the conclusion of the present ‘The Ibbotsons, were they there? and the two new beau-
suspense good or bad, her affection would be his for ever. ties, with the tall Irish officer, who is talked of for one of
Their union, she believed, could not divide her more from them.’
other men, than their final separation. ‘I do not know. I do not think they were.’
Prettier musings of high-wrought love and eternal con- ‘Old Lady Mary Maclean? I need not ask after her. She
stancy, could never have passed along the streets of Bath, never misses, I know; and you must have seen her. She must
than Anne was sporting with from Camden Place to West- have been in your own circle; for as you went with Lady
gate Buildings. It was almost enough to spread purification Dalrymple, you were in the seats of grandeur, round the or-
and perfume all the way. chestra, of course.’

‘No, that was what I dreaded. It would have been very un- very good of you to come and sit with me, when you must
pleasant to me in every respect. But happily Lady Dalrymple have so many pleasanter demands upon your time.’
always chooses to be farther off; and we were exceedingly Anne heard nothing of this. She was still in the aston-
well placed, that is, for hearing; I must not say for seeing, ishment and confusion excited by her friend’s penetration,
because I appear to have seen very little.’ unable to imagine how any report of Captain Wentworth
‘Oh! you saw enough for your own amusement. I can un- could have reached her. After another short silence—
derstand. There is a sort of domestic enjoyment to be known ‘Pray,’ said Mrs Smith, ‘is Mr Elliot aware of your ac-
even in a crowd, and this you had. You were a large party in quaintance with me? Does he know that I am in Bath?’
yourselves, and you wanted nothing beyond.’ ‘Mr Elliot!’ repeated Anne, looking up surprised. A
‘But I ought to have looked about me more,’ said Anne, moment’s reflection shewed her the mistake she had been
conscious while she spoke that there had in fact been no under. She caught it instantaneously; and recovering her
want of looking about, that the object only had been defi- courage with the feeling of safety, soon added, more com-
cient. posedly, ‘Are you acquainted with Mr Elliot?’
‘No, no; you were better employed. You need not tell ‘I have been a good deal acquainted with him,’ replied
me that you had a pleasant evening. I see it in your eye. I Mrs Smith, gravely, ‘but it seems worn out now. It is a great
perfectly see how the hours passed: that you had always while since we met.’
something agreeable to listen to. In the intervals of the con- ‘I was not at all aware of this. You never mentioned it
cert it was conversation.’ before. Had I known it, I would have had the pleasure of
Anne half smiled and said, ‘Do you see that in my eye?’ talking to him about you.’
‘Yes, I do. Your countenance perfectly informs me that ‘To confess the truth,’ said Mrs Smith, assuming her usu-
you were in company last night with the person whom you al air of cheerfulness, ‘that is exactly the pleasure I want
think the most agreeable in the world, the person who in- you to have. I want you to talk about me to Mr Elliot. I want
terests you at this present time more than all the rest of the your interest with him. He can be of essential service to me;
world put together.’ and if you would have the goodness, my dear Miss Elliot, to
A blush overspread Anne’s cheeks. She could say noth- make it an object to yourself, of course it is done.’
ing. ‘I should be extremely happy; I hope you cannot doubt
‘And such being the case,’ continued Mrs Smith, after a my willingness to be of even the slightest use to you,’ replied
short pause, ‘I hope you believe that I do know how to value Anne; ‘but I suspect that you are considering me as having a
your kindness in coming to me this morning. It is really higher claim on Mr Elliot, a greater right to influence him,

than is really the case. I am sure you have, somehow or oth- you hear nothing but good of him from Colonel Wallis; and
er, imbibed such a notion. You must consider me only as Mr who can know him better than Colonel Wallis?’
Elliot’s relation. If in that light there is anything which you ‘My dear Mrs Smith, Mr Elliot’s wife has not been dead
suppose his cousin might fairly ask of him, I beg you would much above half a year. He ought not to be supposed to be
not hesitate to employ me.’ paying his addresses to any one.’
Mrs Smith gave her a penetrating glance, and then, ‘Oh! if these are your only objections,’ cried Mrs Smith,
smiling, said— archly, ‘Mr Elliot is safe, and I shall give myself no more
‘I have been a little premature, I perceive; I beg your par- trouble about him. Do not forget me when you are mar-
don. I ought to have waited for official information, But ried, that’s all. Let him know me to be a friend of yours,
now, my dear Miss Elliot, as an old friend, do give me a hint and then he will think little of the trouble required, which
as to when I may speak. Next week? To be sure by next week it is very natural for him now, with so many affairs and en-
I may be allowed to think it all settled, and build my own gagements of his own, to avoid and get rid of as he can; very
selfish schemes on Mr Elliot’s good fortune.’ natural, perhaps. Ninety-nine out of a hundred would do
‘No,’ replied Anne, ‘nor next week, nor next, nor next. I the same. Of course, he cannot be aware of the importance
assure you that nothing of the sort you are thinking of will to me. Well, my dear Miss Elliot, I hope and trust you will
be settled any week. I am not going to marry Mr Elliot. I be very happy. Mr Elliot has sense to understand the value
should like to know why you imagine I am?’ of such a woman. Your peace will not be shipwrecked as
Mrs Smith looked at her again, looked earnestly, smiled, mine has been. You are safe in all worldly matters, and safe
shook her head, and exclaimed— in his character. He will not be led astray; he will not be
‘Now, how I do wish I understood you! How I do wish misled by others to his ruin.’
I knew what you were at! I have a great idea that you do ‘No,’ said Anne, ‘I can readily believe all that of my
not design to be cruel, when the right moment occurs. Till cousin. He seems to have a calm decided temper, not at all
it does come, you know, we women never mean to have open to dangerous impressions. I consider him with great
anybody. It is a thing of course among us, that every man respect. I have no reason, from any thing that has fallen
is refused, till he offers. But why should you be cruel? Let within my observation, to do otherwise. But I have not
me plead for my—present friend I cannot call him, but for known him long; and he is not a man, I think, to be known
my former friend. Where can you look for a more suitable intimately soon. Will not this manner of speaking of him,
match? Where could you expect a more gentlemanlike, Mrs Smith, convince you that he is nothing to me? Surely
agreeable man? Let me recommend Mr Elliot. I am sure this must be calm enough. And, upon my word, he is noth-

ing to me. Should he ever propose to me (which I have very bye, had a great curiosity to see you, and was delighted to be
little reason to imagine he has any thought of doing), I shall in the way to let you in. She came away from Marlborough
not accept him. I assure you I shall not. I assure you, Mr El- Buildings only on Sunday; and she it was who told me you
liot had not the share which you have been supposing, in were to marry Mr Elliot. She had had it from Mrs Wallis
whatever pleasure the concert of last night might afford: not herself, which did not seem bad authority. She sat an hour
Mr Elliot; it is not Mr Elliot that—‘ with me on Monday evening, and gave me the whole histo-
She stopped, regretting with a deep blush that she had ry.’ ‘The whole history,’ repeated Anne, laughing. ‘She could
implied so much; but less would hardly have been suf- not make a very long history, I think, of one such little ar-
ficient. Mrs Smith would hardly have believed so soon in ticle of unfounded news.’
Mr Elliot’s failure, but from the perception of there being a Mrs Smith said nothing.
somebody else. As it was, she instantly submitted, and with ‘But,’ continued Anne, presently, ‘though there is no
all the semblance of seeing nothing beyond; and Anne, ea- truth in my having this claim on Mr Elliot, I should be ex-
ger to escape farther notice, was impatient to know why tremely happy to be of use to you in any way that I could.
Mrs Smith should have fancied she was to marry Mr Elliot; Shall I mention to him your being in Bath? Shall I take any
where she could have received the idea, or from whom she message?’
could have heard it. ‘No, I thank you: no, certainly not. In the warmth of
‘Do tell me how it first came into your head.’ the moment, and under a mistaken impression, I might,
‘It first came into my head,’ replied Mrs Smith, ‘upon perhaps, have endeavoured to interest you in some circum-
finding how much you were together, and feeling it to be the stances; but not now. No, I thank you, I have nothing to
most probable thing in the world to be wished for by every- trouble you with.’
body belonging to either of you; and you may depend upon ‘I think you spoke of having known Mr Elliot many
it that all your acquaintance have disposed of you in the years?’
same way. But I never heard it spoken of till two days ago.’ ‘I did.’
‘And has it indeed been spoken of?’ ‘Not before he was married, I suppose?’
‘Did you observe the woman who opened the door to you ‘Yes; he was not married when I knew him first.’
when you called yesterday?’ ‘And—were you much acquainted?’
‘No. Was not it Mrs Speed, as usual, or the maid? I ob- ‘Intimately.’
served no one in particular.’ ‘Indeed! Then do tell me what he was at that time of life.
‘It was my friend Mrs Rooke; Nurse Rooke; who, by-the- 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?’ passion. Oh! he is black at heart, hollow and black!’
‘I have not seen Mr Elliot these three years,’ was Mrs Anne’s astonished air, and exclamation of wonder, made
Smith’s answer, given so gravely that it was impossible to her pause, and in a calmer manner, she added,
pursue the subject farther; and Anne felt that she had gained ‘My expressions startle you. You must allow for an in-
nothing but an increase of curiosity. They were both silent: jured, angry woman. But I will try to command myself. I
Mrs Smith very thoughtful. At last— will not abuse him. I will only tell you what I have found
‘I beg your pardon, my dear Miss Elliot,’ she cried, in her him. Facts shall speak. He was the intimate friend of my
natural tone of cordiality, ‘I beg your pardon for the short dear husband, who trusted and loved him, and thought him
answers I have been giving you, but I have been uncertain as good as himself. The intimacy had been formed before
what I ought to do. I have been doubting and considering as our marriage. I found them most intimate friends; and I,
to what I ought to tell you. There were many things to be tak- too, became excessively pleased with Mr Elliot, and enter-
en into the account. One hates to be officious, to be giving tained the highest opinion of him. At nineteen, you know,
bad impressions, making mischief. Even the smooth surface one does not think very seriously; but Mr Elliot appeared to
of family-union seems worth preserving, though there may me quite as good as others, and much more agreeable than
be nothing durable beneath. However, I have determined; I most others, and we were almost always together. We were
think I am right; I think you ought to be made acquainted principally in town, living in very good style. He was then
with Mr Elliot’s real character. Though I fully believe that, the inferior in circumstances; he was then the poor one; he
at present, you have not the smallest intention of accepting had chambers in the Temple, and it was as much as he could
him, there is no saying what may happen. You might, some do to support the appearance of a gentleman. He had al-
time or other, be differently affected towards him. Hear the ways a home with us whenever he chose it; he was always
truth, therefore, now, while you are unprejudiced. Mr El- welcome; he was like a brother. My poor Charles, who had
liot is a man without heart or conscience; a designing, wary, the finest, most generous spirit in the world, would have di-
cold-blooded being, who thinks only of himself; whom for vided his last farthing with him; and I know that his purse
his own interest or ease, would be guilty of any cruelty, or was open to him; I know that he often assisted him.’
any treachery, that could be perpetrated without risk of his ‘This must have been about that very period of Mr
general character. He has no feeling for others. Those whom Elliot’s life,’ said Anne, ‘which has always excited my par-
he has been the chief cause of leading into ruin, he can ne- ticular curiosity. It must have been about the same time that
glect and desert without the smallest compunction. He is he became known to my father and sister. I never knew him
totally beyond the reach of any sentiment of justice or com- myself; I only heard of him; but there was a something in

his conduct then, with regard to my father and sister, and and sister, in their civilities and invitations, were designing
afterwards in the circumstances of his marriage, which I a match between the heir and the young lady, and it was im-
never could quite reconcile with present times. It seemed to possible that such a match should have answered his ideas
announce a different sort of man.’ of wealth and independence. That was his motive for draw-
‘I know it all, I know it all,’ cried Mrs Smith. ‘He had been ing back, I can assure you. He told me the whole story. He
introduced to Sir Walter and your sister before I was ac- had no concealments with me. It was curious, that having
quainted with him, but I heard him speak of them for ever. just left you behind me in Bath, my first and principal ac-
I know he was invited and encouraged, and I know he did quaintance on marrying should be your cousin; and that,
not choose to go. I can satisfy you, perhaps, on points which through him, I should be continually hearing of your father
you would little expect; and as to his marriage, I knew all and sister. He described one Miss Elliot, and I thought very
about it at the time. I was privy to all the fors and againsts; affectionately of the other.’
I was the friend to whom he confided his hopes and plans; ‘Perhaps,’ cried Anne, struck by a sudden idea, ‘you
and though I did not know his wife previously, her inferior sometimes spoke of me to Mr Elliot?’
situation in society, indeed, rendered that impossible, yet ‘To be sure I did; very often. I used to boast of my own
I knew her all her life afterwards, or at least till within the Anne Elliot, and vouch for your being a very different crea-
last two years of her life, and can answer any question you ture from—‘
may wish to put.’ She checked herself just in time.
‘Nay,’ said Anne, ‘I have no particular enquiry to make ‘This accounts for something which Mr Elliot said last
about her. I have always understood they were not a happy night,’ cried Anne. ‘This explains it. I found he had been
couple. But I should like to know why, at that time of his used to hear of me. I could not comprehend how. What wild
life, he should slight my father’s acquaintance as he did. My imaginations one forms where dear self is concerned! How
father was certainly disposed to take very kind and proper sure to be mistaken! But I beg your pardon; I have inter-
notice of him. Why did Mr Elliot draw back?’ rupted you. Mr Elliot married then completely for money?
‘Mr Elliot,’ replied Mrs Smith, ‘at that period of his life, The circumstances, probably, which first opened your eyes
had one object in view: to make his fortune, and by a rather to his character.’
quicker process than the law. He was determined to make it Mrs Smith hesitated a little here. ‘Oh! those things are
by marriage. He was determined, at least, not to mar it by an too common. When one lives in the world, a man or wom-
imprudent marriage; and I know it was his belief (whether an’s marrying for money is too common to strike one as it
justly or not, of course I cannot decide), that your father ought. I was very young, and associated only with the young,

and we were a thoughtless, gay set, without any strict rules appeared to be some years ago. This is all in confirmation,
of conduct. We lived for enjoyment. I think differently now; rather, of what we used to hear and believe. I am more curi-
time and sickness and sorrow have given me other notions; ous to know why he should be so different now.’
but at that period I must own I saw nothing reprehensible ‘But for my satisfaction, if you will have the goodness to
in what Mr Elliot was doing. ‘To do the best for himself,’ ring for Mary; stay: I am sure you will have the still greater
passed as a duty.’ goodness of going yourself into my bedroom, and bringing
‘But was not she a very low woman?’ me the small inlaid box which you will find on the upper
‘Yes; which I objected to, but he would not regard. Mon- shelf of the closet.’
ey, money, was all that he wanted. Her father was a grazier, Anne, seeing her friend to be earnestly bent on it, did as
her grandfather had been a butcher, but that was all noth- she was desired. The box was brought and placed before her,
ing. She was a fine woman, had had a decent education, was and Mrs Smith, sighing over it as she unlocked it, said—
brought forward by some cousins, thrown by chance into ‘This is full of papers belonging to him, to my husband;
Mr Elliot’s company, and fell in love with him; and not a a small portion only of what I had to look over when I lost
difficulty or a scruple was there on his side, with respect him. The letter I am looking for was one written by Mr El-
to her birth. All his caution was spent in being secured of liot to him before our marriage, and happened to be saved;
the real amount of her fortune, before he committed him- why, one can hardly imagine. But he was careless and im-
self. Depend upon it, whatever esteem Mr Elliot may have methodical, like other men, about those things; and when
for his own situation in life now, as a young man he had I came to examine his papers, I found it with others still
not the smallest value for it. His chance for the Kellynch more trivial, from different people scattered here and there,
estate was something, but all the honour of the family he while many letters and memorandums of real importance
held as cheap as dirt. I have often heard him declare, that if had been destroyed. Here it is; I would not burn it, because
baronetcies were saleable, anybody should have his for fifty being even then very little satisfied with Mr Elliot, I was de-
pounds, arms and motto, name and livery included; but I termined to preserve every document of former intimacy. I
will not pretend to repeat half that I used to hear him say have now another motive for being glad that I can produce
on that subject. It would not be fair; and yet you ought to it.’
have proof, for what is all this but assertion, and you shall This was the letter, directed to ‘Charles Smith, Esq. Tun-
have proof.’ bridge Wells,’ and dated from London, as far back as July,
‘Indeed, my dear Mrs Smith, I want none,’ cried Anne. 1803: —
‘You have asserted nothing contradictory to what Mr Elliot ‘Dear Smith,—I have received yours. Your kindness al-

most overpowers me. I wish nature had made such hearts respondence could bear the eye of others, before she could
as yours more common, but I have lived three-and-twenty recover calmness enough to return the letter which she had
years in the world, and have seen none like it. At present, been meditating over, and say—
believe me, I have no need of your services, being in cash ‘Thank you. This is full proof undoubtedly; proof of ev-
again. Give me joy: I have got rid of Sir Walter and Miss. ery thing you were saying. But why be acquainted with us
They are gone back to Kellynch, and almost made me swear now?’
to visit them this summer; but my first visit to Kellynch will ‘I can explain this too,’ cried Mrs Smith, smiling.
be with a surveyor, to tell me how to bring it with best ad- ‘Can you really?’
vantage to the hammer. The baronet, nevertheless, is not ‘Yes. I have shewn you Mr Elliot as he was a dozen years
unlikely to marry again; he is quite fool enough. If he does, ago, and I will shew him as he is now. I cannot produce writ-
however, they will leave me in peace, which may be a decent ten proof again, but I can give as authentic oral testimony
equivalent for the reversion. He is worse than last year. as you can desire, of what he is now wanting, and what he is
‘I wish I had any name but Elliot. I am sick of it. The now doing. He is no hypocrite now. He truly wants to marry
name of Walter I can drop, thank God! and I desire you will you. His present attentions to your family are very sincere:
never insult me with my second W. again, meaning, for the quite from the heart. I will give you my authority: his friend
rest of my life, to be only yours truly,—Wm. Elliot.’ Colonel Wallis.’
Such a letter could not be read without putting Anne in ‘Colonel Wallis! you are acquainted with him?’
a glow; and Mrs Smith, observing the high colour in her ‘No. It does not come to me in quite so direct a line as
face, said— that; it takes a bend or two, but nothing of consequence.
‘The language, I know, is highly disrespectful. Though I The stream is as good as at first; the little rubbish it collects
have forgot the exact terms, I have a perfect impression of in the turnings is easily moved away. Mr Elliot talks unre-
the general meaning. But it shows you the man. Mark his servedly to Colonel Wallis of his views on you, which said
professions to my poor husband. Can any thing be stron- Colonel Wallis, I imagine to be, in himself, a sensible, care-
ger?’ ful, discerning sort of character; but Colonel Wallis has a
Anne could not immediately get over the shock and mor- very pretty silly wife, to whom he tells things which he had
tification of finding such words applied to her father. She better not, and he repeats it all to her. She in the overflow-
was obliged to recollect that her seeing the letter was a vio- ing spirits of her recovery, repeats it all to her nurse; and the
lation of the laws of honour, that no one ought to be judged nurse knowing my acquaintance with you, very naturally
or to be known by such testimonies, that no private cor- brings it all to me. On Monday evening, my good friend

Mrs Rooke let me thus much into the secrets of Marlbor- den Place, as Miss Anne Elliot, and from that moment, I
ough Buildings. When I talked of a whole history, therefore, have no doubt, had a double motive in his visits there. But
you see I was not romancing so much as you supposed.’ there was another, and an earlier, which I will now explain.
‘My dear Mrs Smith, your authority is deficient. This will If there is anything in my story which you know to be either
not do. Mr Elliot’s having any views on me will not in the false or improbable, stop me. My account states, that your
least account for the efforts he made towards a reconcilia- sister’s friend, the lady now staying with you, whom I have
tion with my father. That was all prior to my coming to Bath. heard you mention, came to Bath with Miss Elliot and Sir
I found them on the most friendly terms when I arrived.’ Walter as long ago as September (in short when they first
‘I know you did; I know it all perfectly, but—‘ came themselves), and has been staying there ever since;
‘Indeed, Mrs Smith, we must not expect to get real infor- that she is a clever, insinuating, handsome woman, poor
mation in such a line. Facts or opinions which are to pass and plausible, and altogether such in situation and manner,
through the hands of so many, to be misconceived by fol- as to give a general idea, among Sir Walter’s acquaintance,
ly in one, and ignorance in another, can hardly have much of her meaning to be Lady Elliot, and as general a surprise
truth left.’ that Miss Elliot should be apparently, blind to the danger.’
‘Only give me a hearing. You will soon be able to judge Here Mrs Smith paused a moment; but Anne had not a
of the general credit due, by listening to some particulars word to say, and she continued—
which you can yourself immediately contradict or confirm. ‘This was the light in which it appeared to those who
Nobody supposes that you were his first inducement. He knew the family, long before you returned to it; and Colonel
had seen you indeed, before he came to Bath, and admired Wallis had his eye upon your father enough to be sensible
you, but without knowing it to be you. So says my historian, of it, though he did not then visit in Camden Place; but
at least. Is this true? Did he see you last summer or autumn, his regard for Mr Elliot gave him an interest in watching
‘somewhere down in the west,’ to use her own words, with- all that was going on there, and when Mr Elliot came to
out knowing it to be you?’ Bath for a day or two, as he happened to do a little before
‘He certainly did. So far it is very true. At Lyme. I hap- Christmas, Colonel Wallis made him acquainted with the
pened to be at Lyme.’ appearance of things, and the reports beginning to prevail.
‘Well,’ continued Mrs Smith, triumphantly, ‘grant my Now you are to understand, that time had worked a very
friend the credit due to the establishment of the first point material change in Mr Elliot’s opinions as to the value of a
asserted. He saw you then at Lyme, and liked you so well as baronetcy. Upon all points of blood and connexion he is a
to be exceedingly pleased to meet with you again in Cam- completely altered man. Having long had as much money

as he could spend, nothing to wish for on the side of ava- manoeuvres of selfishness and duplicity must ever be re-
rice or indulgence, he has been gradually learning to pin his volting, but I have heard nothing which really surprises me.
happiness upon the consequence he is heir to. I thought it I know those who would be shocked by such a representa-
coming on before our acquaintance ceased, but it is now a tion of Mr Elliot, who would have difficulty in believing it;
confirmed feeling. He cannot bear the idea of not being Sir but I have never been satisfied. I have always wanted some
William. You may guess, therefore, that the news he heard other motive for his conduct than appeared. I should like to
from his friend could not be very agreeable, and you may know his present opinion, as to the probability of the event
guess what it produced; the resolution of coming back to he has been in dread of; whether he considers the danger to
Bath as soon as possible, and of fixing himself here for a be lessening or not.’
time, with the view of renewing his former acquaintance, ‘Lessening, I understand,’ replied Mrs Smith. ‘He thinks
and recovering such a footing in the family as might give Mrs Clay afraid of him, aware that he sees through her, and
him the means of ascertaining the degree of his danger, and not daring to proceed as she might do in his absence. But
of circumventing the lady if he found it material. This was since he must be absent some time or other, I do not per-
agreed upon between the two friends as the only thing to be ceive how he can ever be secure while she holds her present
done; and Colonel Wallis was to assist in every way that he influence. Mrs Wallis has an amusing idea, as nurse tells
could. He was to be introduced, and Mrs Wallis was to be me, that it is to be put into the marriage articles when you
introduced, and everybody was to be introduced. Mr Elliot and Mr Elliot marry, that your father is not to marry Mrs
came back accordingly; and on application was forgiven, Clay. A scheme, worthy of Mrs Wallis’s understanding, by
as you know, and re-admitted into the family; and there it all accounts; but my sensible nurse Rooke sees the absurdity
was his constant object, and his only object (till your ar- of it. ‘Why, to be sure, ma’am,’ said she, ‘it would not prevent
rival added another motive), to watch Sir Walter and Mrs his marrying anybody else.’ And, indeed, to own the truth, I
Clay. He omitted no opportunity of being with them, threw do not think nurse, in her heart, is a very strenuous opposer
himself in their way, called at all hours; but I need not be of Sir Walter’s making a second match. She must be allowed
particular on this subject. You can imagine what an artful to be a favourer of matrimony, you know; and (since self
man would do; and with this guide, perhaps, may recollect will intrude) who can say that she may not have some flying
what you have seen him do.’ visions of attending the next Lady Elliot, through Mrs Wal-
‘Yes,’ said Anne, ‘you tell me nothing which does not ac- lis’s recommendation?’
cord with what I have known, or could imagine. There is ‘I am very glad to know all this,’ said Anne, after a little
always something offensive in the details of cunning. The thoughtfulness. ‘It will be more painful to me in some re-

spects to be in company with him, but I shall know better without involving himself, (for with all his self-indulgence
what to do. My line of conduct will be more direct. Mr El- he had become a prudent man), and beginning to be rich,
liot is evidently a disingenuous, artificial, worldly man, who just as his friend ought to have found himself to be poor,
has never had any better principle to guide him than self- seemed to have had no concern at all for that friend’s prob-
ishness.’ able finances, but, on the contrary, had been prompting and
But Mr Elliot was not done with. Mrs Smith had been encouraging expenses which could end only in ruin; and
carried away from her first direction, and Anne had forgot- the Smiths accordingly had been ruined.
ten, in the interest of her own family concerns, how much The husband had died just in time to be spared the full
had been originally implied against him; but her attention knowledge of it. They had previously known embarrass-
was now called to the explanation of those first hints, and ments enough to try the friendship of their friends, and
she listened to a recital which, if it did not perfectly justify to prove that Mr Elliot’s had better not be tried; but it was
the unqualified bitterness of Mrs Smith, proved him to have not till his death that the wretched state of his affairs was
been very unfeeling in his conduct towards her; very defi- fully known. With a confidence in Mr Elliot’s regard, more
cient both in justice and compassion. creditable to his feelings than his judgement, Mr Smith had
She learned that (the intimacy between them continu- appointed him the executor of his will; but Mr Elliot would
ing unimpaired by Mr Elliot’s marriage) they had been as not act, and the difficulties and distress which this refusal
before always together, and Mr Elliot had led his friend into had heaped on her, in addition to the inevitable sufferings
expenses much beyond his fortune. Mrs Smith did not want of her situation, had been such as could not be related with-
to take blame to herself, and was most tender of throwing out anguish of spirit, or listened to without corresponding
any on her husband; but Anne could collect that their in- indignation.
come had never been equal to their style of living, and that Anne was shewn some letters of his on the occasion,
from the first there had been a great deal of general and joint answers to urgent applications from Mrs Smith, which all
extravagance. From his wife’s account of him she could dis- breathed the same stern resolution of not engaging in a
cern Mr Smith to have been a man of warm feelings, easy fruitless trouble, and, under a cold civility, the same hard-
temper, careless habits, and not strong understanding, much hearted indifference to any of the evils it might bring on
more amiable than his friend, and very unlike him, led by her. It was a dreadful picture of ingratitude and inhuman-
him, and probably despised by him. Mr Elliot, raised by his ity; and Anne felt, at some moments, that no flagrant open
marriage to great affluence, and disposed to every gratifi- crime could have been worse. She had a great deal to listen
cation of pleasure and vanity which could be commanded to; all the particulars of past sad scenes, all the minutiae of

distress upon distress, which in former conversations had an he loved, and she had been hastily preparing to interest
been merely hinted at, were dwelt on now with a natural in- Anne’s feelings, as far as the observances due to Mr Elliot’s
dulgence. Anne could perfectly comprehend the exquisite character would allow, when Anne’s refutation of the sup-
relief, and was only the more inclined to wonder at the composed engagement changed the face of everything; and
posure of her friend’s usual state of mind. while it took from her the new-formed hope of succeeding
There was one circumstance in the history of her griev- in the object of her first anxiety, left her at least the comfort
ances of particular irritation. She had good reason to believe of telling the whole story her own way.
that some property of her husband in the West Indies, After listening to this full description of Mr Elliot, Anne
which had been for many years under a sort of sequestra- could not but express some surprise at Mrs Smith’s having
tion for the payment of its own incumbrances, might be spoken of him so favourably in the beginning of their con-
recoverable by proper measures; and this property, though versation. ‘She had seemed to recommend and praise him!’
not large, would be enough to make her comparatively rich. ‘My dear,’ was Mrs Smith’s reply, ‘there was nothing
But there was nobody to stir in it. Mr Elliot would do noth- else to be done. I considered your marrying him as certain,
ing, and she could do nothing herself, equally disabled from though he might not yet have made the offer, and I could no
personal exertion by her state of bodily weakness, and from more speak the truth of him, than if he had been your hus-
employing others by her want of money. She had no natural band. My heart bled for you, as I talked of happiness; and
connexions to assist her even with their counsel, and she yet he is sensible, he is agreeable, and with such a woman as
could not afford to purchase the assistance of the law. This you, it was not absolutely hopeless. He was very unkind to
was a cruel aggravation of actually straitened means. To feel his first wife. They were wretched together. But she was too
that she ought to be in better circumstances, that a little ignorant and giddy for respect, and he had never loved her.
trouble in the right place might do it, and to fear that delay I was willing to hope that you must fare better.’
might be even weakening her claims, was hard to bear. Anne could just acknowledge within herself such a pos-
It was on this point that she had hoped to engage Anne’s sibility of having been induced to marry him, as made her
good offices with Mr Elliot. She had previously, in the antic- shudder at the idea of the misery which must have followed.
ipation of their marriage, been very apprehensive of losing It was just possible that she might have been persuaded by
her friend by it; but on being assured that he could have Lady Russell! And under such a supposition, which would
made no attempt of that nature, since he did not even know have been most miserable, when time had disclosed all, too
her to be in Bath, it immediately occurred, that something late?
might be done in her favour by the influence of the wom- It was very desirable that Lady Russell should be no lon-

ger deceived; and one of the concluding arrangements of
this important conference, which carried them through the Chapter 22
greater part of the morning, was, that Anne had full liber-
ty to communicate to her friend everything relative to Mrs
Smith, in which his conduct was involved.
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 at-
tentions last night, the irremediable mischief he might have
done, was considered with sensations unqualified, unper-
plexed. 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 appre-
hend. 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 enti-
tled 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 fam-
ily? 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 hands and eyes, and sinking all the rest of her astonishment
flow of anxieties and fears which must be all to herself. in a convenient silence.
She found, on reaching home, that she had, as she in- ‘Well, my dear Penelope, you need not be so alarmed
tended, escaped seeing Mr Elliot; that he had called and about him. I did invite him, you know. I sent him away with
paid them a long morning visit; but hardly had she con- smiles. When I found he was really going to his friends at
gratulated herself, and felt safe, when she heard that he was Thornberry Park for the whole day to-morrow, I had com-
coming again in the evening. passion on him.’
‘I had not the smallest intention of asking him,’ said Anne admired the good acting of the friend, in being
Elizabeth, with affected carelessness, ‘but he gave so many able to shew such pleasure as she did, in the expectation
hints; so Mrs Clay says, at least.’ and in the actual arrival of the very person whose presence
‘Indeed, I do say it. I never saw anybody in my life spell must really be interfering with her prime object. It was im-
harder for an invitation. Poor man! I was really in pain for possible but that Mrs Clay must hate the sight of Mr Elliot;
him; for your hard-hearted sister, Miss Anne, seems bent and yet she could assume a most obliging, placid look, and
on cruelty.’ appear quite satisfied with the curtailed license of devoting
‘Oh!’ cried Elizabeth, ‘I have been rather too much used herself only half as much to Sir Walter as she would have
to the game to be soon overcome by a gentleman’s hints. done otherwise.
However, when I found how excessively he was regretting To Anne herself it was most distressing to see Mr Elliot
that he should miss my father this morning, I gave way im- enter the room; and quite painful to have him approach and
mediately, for I would never really omit an opportunity of speak to her. She had been used before to feel that he could
bring him and Sir Walter together. They appear to so much not be always quite sincere, but now she saw insincerity in
advantage in company with each other. Each behaving so everything. His attentive deference to her father, contrast-
pleasantly. Mr Elliot looking up with so much respect.’ ed with his former language, was odious; and when she
‘Quite delightful!’ cried Mrs Clay, not daring, however, thought of his cruel conduct towards Mrs Smith, she could
to turn her eyes towards Anne. ‘Exactly like father and son! hardly bear the sight of his present smiles and mildness, or
Dear Miss Elliot, may I not say father and son?’ the sound of his artificial good sentiments.
‘Oh! I lay no embargo on any body’s words. If you will She meant to avoid any such alteration of manners as
have such ideas! But, upon my word, I am scarcely sensible might provoke a remonstrance on his side. It was a great
of his attentions being beyond those of other men.’ object to her to escape all enquiry or eclat; but it was her
‘My dear Miss Elliot!’ exclaimed Mrs Clay, lifting her intention to be as decidedly cool to him as might be com-

patible with their relationship; and to retrace, as quietly as subtleties in endeavouring to prevent it.
she could, the few steps of unnecessary intimacy she had On Friday morning she meant to go very early to Lady
been gradually led along. She was accordingly more guard- Russell, and accomplish the necessary communication; and
ed, and more cool, than she had been the night before. she would have gone directly after breakfast, but that Mrs
He wanted to animate her curiosity again as to how and Clay was also going out on some obliging purpose of sav-
where he could have heard her formerly praised; wanting her sister trouble, which determined her to wait till she
ed very much to be gratified by more solicitation; but the might be safe from such a companion. She saw Mrs Clay
charm was broken: he found that the heat and animation of fairly off, therefore, before she began to talk of spending the
a public room was necessary to kindle his modest cousin’s morning in Rivers Street.
vanity; he found, at least, that it was not to be done now, ‘Very well,’ said Elizabeth, ‘I have nothing to send but my
by any of those attempts which he could hazard among the love. Oh! you may as well take back that tiresome book she
too-commanding claims of the others. He little surmised would lend me, and pretend I have read it through. I really
that it was a subject acting now exactly against his interest, cannot be plaguing myself for ever with all the new poems
bringing immediately to her thoughts all those parts of his and states of the nation that come out. Lady Russell quite
conduct which were least excusable. bores one with her new publications. You need not tell her
She had some satisfaction in finding that he was really so, but I thought her dress hideous the other night. I used to
going out of Bath the next morning, going early, and that think she had some taste in dress, but I was ashamed of her
he would be gone the greater part of two days. He was in- at the concert. Something so formal and arrange in her air!
vited again to Camden Place the very evening of his return; and she sits so upright! My best love, of course.’
but from Thursday to Saturday evening his absence was cer- ‘And mine,’ added Sir Walter. ‘Kindest regards. And you
tain. It was bad enough that a Mrs Clay should be always may say, that I mean to call upon her soon. Make a civil
before her; but that a deeper hypocrite should be added to message; but I shall only leave my card. Morning visits are
their party, seemed the destruction of everything like peace never fair by women at her time of life, who make them-
and comfort. It was so humiliating to reflect on the con- selves up so little. If she would only wear rouge she would
stant deception practised on her father and Elizabeth; to not be afraid of being seen; but last time I called, I observed
consider the various sources of mortification preparing for the blinds were let down immediately.’
them! Mrs Clay’s selfishness was not so complicate nor so While her father spoke, there was a knock at the door.
revolting as his; and Anne would have compounded for the Who could it be? Anne, remembering the preconcerted vis-
marriage at once, with all its evils, to be clear of Mr Elliot’s its, at all hours, of Mr Elliot, would have expected him, but

for his known engagement seven miles off. After the usu- idea of it very much, as an advantage to her husband; but
al period of suspense, the usual sounds of approach were Mary could not bear to be left, and had made herself so un-
heard, and ‘Mr and Mrs Charles Musgrove’ were ushered happy about it, that for a day or two everything seemed to
into the room. be in suspense, or at an end. But then, it had been taken up
Surprise was the strongest emotion raised by their ap- by his father and mother. His mother had some old friends
pearance; but Anne was really glad to see them; and the in Bath whom she wanted to see; it was thought a good op-
others were not so sorry but that they could put on a decent portunity for Henrietta to come and buy wedding-clothes
air of welcome; and as soon as it became clear that these, for herself and her sister; and, in short, it ended in being his
their nearest relations, were not arrived with an views of ac- mother’s party, that everything might be comfortable and
commodation in that house, Sir Walter and Elizabeth were easy to Captain Harville; and he and Mary were included
able to rise in cordiality, and do the honours of it very well. in it by way of general convenience. They had arrived late
They were come to Bath for a few days with Mrs Musgrove, the night before. Mrs Harville, her children, and Captain
and were at the White Hart. So much was pretty soon under- Benwick, remained with Mr Musgrove and Louisa at Up-
stood; but till Sir Walter and Elizabeth were walking Mary percross.
into the other drawing-room, and regaling themselves with Anne’s only surprise was, that affairs should be in for-
her admiration, Anne could not draw upon Charles’s brain wardness enough for Henrietta’s wedding-clothes to be
for a regular history of their coming, or an explanation of talked of. She had imagined such difficulties of fortune to
some smiling hints of particular business, which had been exist there as must prevent the marriage from being near
ostentatiously dropped by Mary, as well as of some apparent at hand; but she learned from Charles that, very recently,
confusion as to whom their party consisted of. (since Mary’s last letter to herself), Charles Hayter had been
She then found that it consisted of Mrs Musgrove, Hen- applied to by a friend to hold a living for a youth who could
rietta, and Captain Harville, beside their two selves. He not possibly claim it under many years; and that on the
gave her a very plain, intelligible account of the whole; a strength of his present income, with almost a certainty of
narration in which she saw a great deal of most character- something more permanent long before the term in ques-
istic proceeding. The scheme had received its first impulse tion, the two families had consented to the young people’s
by Captain Harville’s wanting to come to Bath on business. wishes, and that their marriage was likely to take place in a
He had begun to talk of it a week ago; and by way of do- few months, quite as soon as Louisa’s. ‘And a very good liv-
ing something, as shooting was over, Charles had proposed ing it was,’ Charles added: ‘only five-and-twenty miles from
coming with him, and Mrs Harville had seemed to like the Uppercross, and in a very fine country: fine part of Dor-

setshire. In the centre of some of the best preserves in the What a blessing to young people to be in such hands! Your
kingdom, surrounded by three great proprietors, each more father and mother seem so totally free from all those ambi-
careful and jealous than the other; and to two of the three at tious feelings which have led to so much misconduct and
least, Charles Hayter might get a special recommendation. misery, both in young and old. I hope you think Louisa per-
Not that he will value it as he ought,’ he observed, ‘Charles is fectly recovered now?’
too cool about sporting. That’s the worst of him.’ He answered rather hesitatingly, ‘Yes, I believe I do; very
‘I am extremely glad, indeed,’ cried Anne, ‘particularly much recovered; but she is altered; there is no running or
glad that this should happen; and that of two sisters, who jumping about, no laughing or dancing; it is quite different.
both deserve equally well, and who have always been such If one happens only to shut the door a little hard, she starts
good friends, the pleasant prospect of one should not be and wriggles like a young dab-chick in the water; and Ben-
dimming those of the other— that they should be so equal wick sits at her elbow, reading verses, or whispering to her,
in their prosperity and comfort. I hope your father and all day long.’
mother are quite happy with regard to both.’ Anne could not help laughing. ‘That cannot be much to
‘Oh! yes. My father would be well pleased if the gentlemen your taste, I know,’ said she; ‘but I do believe him to be an
were richer, but he has no other fault to find. Money, you excellent young man.’
know, coming down with money—two daughters at once— ‘To be sure he is. Nobody doubts it; and I hope you do
it cannot be a very agreeable operation, and it streightens not think I am so illiberal as to want every man to have the
him as to many things. However, I do not mean to say they same objects and pleasures as myself. I have a great value
have not a right to it. It is very fit they should have daugh- for Benwick; and when one can but get him to talk, he has
ters’ shares; and I am sure he has always been a very kind, plenty to say. His reading has done him no harm, for he has
liberal father to me. Mary does not above half like Henri- fought as well as read. He is a brave fellow. I got more ac-
etta’s match. She never did, you know. But she does not do quainted with him last Monday than ever I did before. We
him justice, nor think enough about Winthrop. I cannot had a famous set-to at rat-hunting all the morning in my fa-
make her attend to the value of the property. It is a very fair ther’s great barns; and he played his part so well that I have
match, as times go; and I have liked Charles Hayter all my liked him the better ever since.’
life, and I shall not leave off now.’ Here they were interrupted by the absolute necessity of
‘Such excellent parents as Mr and Mrs Musgrove,’ Charles’s following the others to admire mirrors and china;
exclaimed Anne, ‘should be happy in their children’s mar- but Anne had heard enough to understand the present state
riages. They do everything to confer happiness, I am sure. of Uppercross, and rejoice in its happiness; and though she

sighed as she rejoiced, her sigh had none of the ill-will of such drawing rooms before. They will be delighted to come
envy in it. She would certainly have risen to their blessings to-morrow evening. It shall be a regular party, small, but
if she could, but she did not want to lessen theirs. most elegant.’ And this satisfied Elizabeth: and when the
The visit passed off altogether in high good humour. invitation was given to the two present, and promised for
Mary was in excellent spirits, enjoying the gaiety and the the absent, Mary was as completely satisfied. She was par-
change, and so well satisfied with the journey in her moth- ticularly asked to meet Mr Elliot, and be introduced to Lady
er-in-law’s carriage with four horses, and with her own Dalrymple and Miss Carteret, who were fortunately already
complete independence of Camden Place, that she was ex- engaged to come; and she could not have received a more
actly in a temper to admire everything as she ought, and gratifying attention. Miss Elliot was to have the honour of
enter most readily into all the superiorities of the house, as calling on Mrs Musgrove in the course of the morning; and
they were detailed to her. She had no demands on her father Anne walked off with Charles and Mary, to go and see her
or sister, and her consequence was just enough increased by and Henrietta directly.
their handsome drawing-rooms. Her plan of sitting with Lady Russell must give way for
Elizabeth was, for a short time, suffering a good deal. She the present. They all three called in Rivers Street for a couple
felt that Mrs Musgrove and all her party ought to be asked of minutes; but Anne convinced herself that a day’s delay of
to dine with them; but she could not bear to have the differ- the intended communication could be of no consequence,
ence of style, the reduction of servants, which a dinner must and hastened forward to the White Hart, to see again the
betray, witnessed by those who had been always so inferior friends and companions of the last autumn, with an eager-
to the Elliots of Kellynch. It was a struggle between propri- ness of good-will which many associations contributed to
ety and vanity; but vanity got the better, and then Elizabeth form.
was happy again. These were her internal persuasions: ‘Old They found Mrs Musgrove and her daughter within, and
fashioned notions; country hospitality; we do not profess to by themselves, and Anne had the kindest welcome from
give dinners; few people in Bath do; Lady Alicia never does; each. Henrietta was exactly in that state of recently-im-
did not even ask her own sister’s family, though they were proved views, of fresh-formed happiness, which made her
here a month: and I dare say it would be very inconvenient full of regard and interest for everybody she had ever liked
to Mrs Musgrove; put her quite out of her way. I am sure before at all; and Mrs Musgrove’s real affection had been
she would rather not come; she cannot feel easy with us. I won by her usefulness when they were in distress. It was a
will ask them all for an evening; that will be much better; heartiness, and a warmth, and a sincerity which Anne de-
that will be a novelty and a treat. They have not seen two lighted in the more, from the sad want of such blessings at

home. She was entreated to give them as much of her time Room, still governed. He did not seem to want to be near
as possible, invited for every day and all day long, or rather enough for conversation.
claimed as part of the family; and, in return, she natural- She tried to be calm, and leave things to take their course,
ly fell into all her wonted ways of attention and assistance, and tried to dwell much on this argument of rational de-
and on Charles’s leaving them together, was listening to pendence:— ‘Surely, if there be constant attachment on
Mrs Musgrove’s history of Louisa, and to Henrietta’s of her- each side, our hearts must understand each other ere long.
self, giving opinions on business, and recommendations to We are not boy and girl, to be captiously irritable, misled by
shops; with intervals of every help which Mary required, every moment’s inadvertence, and wantonly playing with
from altering her ribbon to settling her accounts; from our own happiness.’ And yet, a few minutes afterwards, she
finding her keys, and assorting her trinkets, to trying to felt as if their being in company with each other, under their
convince her that she was not ill-used by anybody; which present circumstances, could only be exposing them to in-
Mary, well amused as she generally was, in her station at a advertencies and misconstructions of the most mischievous
window overlooking the entrance to the Pump Room, could kind.
not but have her moments of imagining. ‘Anne,’ cried Mary, still at her window, ‘there is Mrs Clay,
A morning of thorough confusion was to be expected. A I am sure, standing under the colonnade, and a gentleman
large party in an hotel ensured a quick-changing, unsettled with her. I saw them turn the corner from Bath Street just
scene. One five minutes brought a note, the next a parcel; now. They seemed deep in talk. Who is it? Come, and tell
and Anne had not been there half an hour, when their din- me. Good heavens! I recollect. It is Mr Elliot himself.’
ing-room, spacious as it was, seemed more than half filled: ‘No,’ cried Anne, quickly, ‘it cannot be Mr Elliot, I assure
a party of steady old friends were seated around Mrs Mus- you. He was to leave Bath at nine this morning, and does
grove, and Charles came back with Captains Harville and not come back till to-morrow.’
Wentworth. The appearance of the latter could not be more As she spoke, she felt that Captain Wentworth was
than the surprise of the moment. It was impossible for her looking at her, the consciousness of which vexed and em-
to have forgotten to feel that this arrival of their common barrassed her, and made her regret that she had said so
friends must be soon bringing them together again. Their much, simple as it was.
last meeting had been most important in opening his feel- Mary, resenting that she should be supposed not to know
ings; she had derived from it a delightful conviction; but her own cousin, began talking very warmly about the fam-
she feared from his looks, that the same unfortunate per- ily features, and protesting still more positively that it was
suasion, which had hastened him away from the Concert 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 there is room for us all. It holds nine. I have engaged
and unconcerned. Her distress returned, however, on per- Captain Wentworth. Anne will not be sorry to join us, I am
ceiving smiles and intelligent glances pass between two or sure. We all like a play. Have not I done well, mother?’
three of the lady visitors, as if they believed themselves quite Mrs Musgrove was good humouredly beginning to ex-
in the secret. It was evident that the report concerning her press her perfect readiness for the play, if Henrietta and all
had spread, and a short pause succeeded, which seemed to the others liked it, when Mary eagerly interrupted her by
ensure that it would now spread farther. exclaiming—
‘Do come, Anne’ cried Mary, ‘come and look yourself. ‘Good heavens, Charles! how can you think of such a
You will be too late if you do not make haste. They are part- thing? Take a box for to-morrow night! Have you forgot that
ing; they are shaking hands. He is turning away. Not know we are engaged to Camden Place to-morrow night? and that
Mr Elliot, indeed! You seem to have forgot all about Lyme.’ we were most particularly asked to meet Lady Dalrymple
To pacify Mary, and perhaps screen her own embarrass- and her daughter, and Mr Elliot, and all the principal fam-
ment, Anne did move quietly to the window. She was just ily connexions, on purpose to be introduced to them? How
in time to ascertain that it really was Mr Elliot, which she can you be so forgetful?’
had never believed, before he disappeared on one side, as ‘Phoo! phoo!’ replied Charles, ‘what’s an evening party?
Mrs Clay walked quickly off on the other; and checking the Never worth remembering. Your father might have asked us
surprise which she could not but feel at such an appearance to dinner, I think, if he had wanted to see us. You may do as
of friendly conference between two persons of totally oppo- you like, but I shall go to the play.’
site interest, she calmly said, ‘Yes, it is Mr Elliot, certainly. ‘Oh! Charles, I declare it will be too abominable if you
He has changed his hour of going, I suppose, that is all, or do, when you promised to go.’
I may be mistaken, I might not attend;’ and walked back to ‘No, I did not promise. I only smirked and bowed, and
her chair, recomposed, and with the comfortable hope of said the word ‘happy.’ There was no promise.’
having acquitted herself well. ‘But you must go, Charles. It would be unpardonable to
The visitors took their leave; and Charles, having civilly fail. We were asked on purpose to be introduced. There was
seen them off, and then made a face at them, and abused always such a great connexion between the Dalrymples and
them for coming, began with— ourselves. Nothing ever happened on either side that was
‘Well, mother, I have done something for you that you not announced immediately. We are quite near relations,
will like. I have been to the theatre, and secured a box for you know; and Mr Elliot too, whom you ought so particu-
to-morrow night. A’n’t I a good boy? I know you love a play; larly to be acquainted with! Every attention is due to Mr

Elliot. Consider, my father’s heir: the future representative smallest impediment. I have no pleasure in the sort of meet-
of the family.’ ing, and should be too happy to change it for a play, and
‘Don’t talk to me about heirs and representatives,’ cried with you. But, it had better not be attempted, perhaps.’ She
Charles. ‘I am not one of those who neglect the reigning had spoken it; but she trembled when it was done, conscious
power to bow to the rising sun. If I would not go for the sake that her words were listened to, and daring not even to try
of your father, I should think it scandalous to go for the sake to observe their effect.
of his heir. What is Mr Elliot to me?’ The careless expres- It was soon generally agreed that Tuesday should be the
sion was life to Anne, who saw that Captain Wentworth was day; Charles only reserving the advantage of still teasing his
all attention, looking and listening with his whole soul; and wife, by persisting that he would go to the play to-morrow
that the last words brought his enquiring eyes from Charles if nobody else would.
to herself. Captain Wentworth left his seat, and walked to the fire-
Charles and Mary still talked on in the same style; he, place; probably for the sake of walking away from it soon
half serious and half jesting, maintaining the scheme for afterwards, and taking a station, with less bare-faced de-
the play, and she, invariably serious, most warmly opposing sign, by Anne.
it, and not omitting to make it known that, however deter- ‘You have not been long enough in Bath,’ said he, ‘to en-
mined to go to Camden Place herself, she should not think joy the evening parties of the place.’
herself very well used, if they went to the play without her. ‘Oh! no. The usual character of them has nothing for me.
Mrs Musgrove interposed. I am no card-player.’
‘We had better put it off. Charles, you had much better ‘You were not formerly, I know. You did not use to like
go back and change the box for Tuesday. It would be a pity cards; but time makes many changes.’
to be divided, and we should be losing Miss Anne, too, if ‘I am not yet so much changed,’ cried Anne, and stopped,
there is a party at her father’s; and I am sure neither Henri- fearing she hardly knew what misconstruction. After wait-
etta nor I should care at all for the play, if Miss Anne could ing a few moments he said, and as if it were the result of
not be with us.’ immediate feeling, ‘It is a period, indeed! Eight years and a
Anne felt truly obliged to her for such kindness; and half is a period.’
quite as much so for the opportunity it gave her of decidedly Whether he would have proceeded farther was left to
saying— Anne’s imagination to ponder over in a calmer hour; for
‘If it depended only on my inclination, ma’am, the party while still hearing the sounds he had uttered, she was star-
at home (excepting on Mary’s account) would not be the tled to other subjects by Henrietta, eager to make use of the

present leisure for getting out, and calling on her compan- and one card more decidedly for Captain Wentworth. The
ions to lose no time, lest somebody else should come in. truth was, that Elizabeth had been long enough in Bath to
They were obliged to move. Anne talked of being perfect- understand the importance of a man of such an air and ap-
ly ready, and tried to look it; but she felt that could Henrietta pearance as his. The past was nothing. The present was that
have known the regret and reluctance of her heart in quit- Captain Wentworth would move about well in her draw-
ting that chair, in preparing to quit the room, she would ing-room. The card was pointedly given, and Sir Walter and
have found, in all her own sensations for her cousin, in the Elizabeth arose and disappeared.
very security of his affection, wherewith to pity her. The interruption had been short, though severe, and
Their preparations, however, were stopped short. Alarm- ease and animation returned to most of those they left as
ing sounds were heard; other visitors approached, and the the door shut them out, but not to Anne. She could think
door was thrown open for Sir Walter and Miss Elliot, whose only of the invitation she had with such astonishment wit-
entrance seemed to give a general chill. Anne felt an instant nessed, and of the manner in which it had been received; a
oppression, and wherever she looked saw symptoms of the manner of doubtful meaning, of surprise rather than grati-
same. The comfort, the freedom, the gaiety of the room was fication, of polite acknowledgement rather than acceptance.
over, hushed into cold composure, determined silence, or She knew him; she saw disdain in his eye, and could not
insipid talk, to meet the heartless elegance of her father and venture to believe that he had determined to accept such an
sister. How mortifying to feel that it was so! offering, as an atonement for all the insolence of the past.
Her jealous eye was satisfied in one particular. Captain Her spirits sank. He held the card in his hand after they
Wentworth was acknowledged again by each, by Elizabeth were gone, as if deeply considering it.
more graciously than before. She even addressed him once, ‘Only think of Elizabeth’s including everybody!’ whis-
and looked at him more than once. Elizabeth was, in fact, pered Mary very audibly. ‘I do not wonder Captain
revolving a great measure. The sequel explained it. After Wentworth is delighted! You see he cannot put the card out
the waste of a few minutes in saying the proper nothings, of his hand.’
she began to give the invitation which was to comprise all Anne caught his eye, saw his cheeks glow, and his mouth
the remaining dues of the Musgroves. ‘To-morrow evening, form itself into a momentary expression of contempt, and
to meet a few friends: no formal party.’ It was all said very turned away, that she might neither see nor hear more to
gracefully, and the cards with which she had provided her- vex her.
self, the ‘Miss Elliot at home,’ were laid on the table, with The party separated. The gentlemen had their own pur-
a courteous, comprehensive smile to all, and one smile suits, the ladies proceeded on their own business, and they

met no more while Anne belonged to them. She was ear- sciousness of having, by some complication of mutual trick,
nestly begged to return and dine, and give them all the rest or some overbearing authority of his, been obliged to attend
of the day, but her spirits had been so long exerted that at (perhaps for half an hour) to his lectures and restrictions on
present she felt unequal to more, and fit only for home, her designs on Sir Walter. She exclaimed, however, with a
where she might be sure of being as silent as she chose. very tolerable imitation of nature: —
Promising to be with them the whole of the following ‘Oh! dear! very true. Only think, Miss Elliot, to my great
morning, therefore, she closed the fatigues of the present by surprise I met with Mr Elliot in Bath Street. I was never
a toilsome walk to Camden Place, there to spend the evening more astonished. He turned back and walked with me
chiefly in listening to the busy arrangements of Elizabeth to the Pump Yard. He had been prevented setting off for
and Mrs Clay for the morrow’s party, the frequent enumera- Thornberry, but I really forget by what; for I was in a hurry,
tion of the persons invited, and the continually improving and could not much attend, and I can only answer for his
detail of all the embellishments which were to make it the being determined not to be delayed in his return. He want-
most completely elegant of its kind in Bath, while harassing ed to know how early he might be admitted to-morrow. He
herself with the never-ending question, of whether Captain was full of ‘to-morrow,’ and it is very evident that I have
Wentworth would come or not? They were reckoning him been full of it too, ever since I entered the house, and learnt
as certain, but with her it was a gnawing solicitude never ap- the extension of your plan and all that had happened, or
peased for five minutes together. She generally thought he my seeing him could never have gone so entirely out of my
would come, because she generally thought he ought; but it head.’
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 rest-
less 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 intima-
tion 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 con-

Chapter 23 account of tasting a little before the morning closed. There
was no delay, no waste of time. She was deep in the hap-
piness of such misery, or the misery of such happiness,
instantly. Two minutes after her entering the room, Captain
Wentworth said—
One day only had passed since Anne’s conversation with ‘We will write the letter we were talking of, Harville,
Mrs Smith; but a keener interest had succeeded, and she was now, if you will give me materials.’
now so little touched by Mr Elliot’s conduct, except by its Materials were at hand, on a separate table; he went to
effects in one quarter, that it became a matter of course the it, and nearly turning his back to them all, was engrossed
next morning, still to defer her explanatory visit in Rivers by writing.
Street. She had promised to be with the Musgroves from Mrs Musgrove was giving Mrs Croft the history of her
breakfast to dinner. Her faith was plighted, and Mr Elliot’s eldest daughter’s engagement, and just in that inconvenient
character, like the Sultaness Scheherazade’s head, must live tone of voice which was perfectly audible while it pretended
another day. to be a whisper. Anne felt that she did not belong to the con-
She could not keep her appointment punctually, how- versation, and yet, as Captain Harville seemed thoughtful
ever; the weather was unfavourable, and she had grieved and not disposed to talk, she could not avoid hearing many
over the rain on her friends’ account, and felt it very much undesirable particulars; such as, ‘how Mr Musgrove and my
on her own, before she was able to attempt the walk. When brother Hayter had met again and again to talk it over; what
she reached the White Hart, and made her way to the prop- my brother Hayter had said one day, and what Mr Musgrove
er apartment, she found herself neither arriving quite in had proposed the next, and what had occurred to my sister
time, nor the first to arrive. The party before her were, Mrs Hayter, and what the young people had wished, and what
Musgrove, talking to Mrs Croft, and Captain Harville to I said at first I never could consent to, but was afterwards
Captain Wentworth; and she immediately heard that Mary persuaded to think might do very well,’ and a great deal
and Henrietta, too impatient to wait, had gone out the mo- in the same style of open-hearted communication: minu-
ment it had cleared, but would be back again soon, and that tiae which, even with every advantage of taste and delicacy,
the strictest injunctions had been left with Mrs Musgrove which good Mrs Musgrove could not give, could be properly
to keep her there till they returned. She had only to submit, interesting only to the principals. Mrs Croft was attending
sit down, be outwardly composed, and feel herself plunged with great good-humour, and whenever she spoke at all, it
at once in all the agitations which she had merely laid her was very sensibly. Anne hoped the gentlemen might each be

too much self-occupied to hear. wards the distant table, Captain Wentworth’s pen ceased to
‘And so, ma’am, all these thing considered,’ said Mrs move, his head was raised, pausing, listening, and he turned
Musgrove, in her powerful whisper, ‘though we could have round the next instant to give a look, one quick, conscious
wished it different, yet, altogether, we did not think it fair look at her.
to stand out any longer, for Charles Hayter was quite wild The two ladies continued to talk, to re-urge the same ad-
about it, and Henrietta was pretty near as bad; and so we mitted truths, and enforce them with such examples of the
thought they had better marry at once, and make the best of ill effect of a contrary practice as had fallen within their ob-
it, as many others have done before them. At any rate, said servation, but Anne heard nothing distinctly; it was only a
I, it will be better than a long engagement.’ buzz of words in her ear, her mind was in confusion.
‘That is precisely what I was going to observe,’ cried Mrs Captain Harville, who had in truth been hearing none of
Croft. ‘I would rather have young people settle on a small it, now left his seat, and moved to a window, and Anne seem-
income at once, and have to struggle with a few difficulties ing to watch him, though it was from thorough absence of
together, than be involved in a long engagement. I always mind, became gradually sensible that he was inviting her to
think that no mutual—‘ join him where he stood. He looked at her with a smile, and
‘Oh! dear Mrs Croft,’ cried Mrs Musgrove, unable to let a little motion of the head, which expressed, ‘Come to me,
her finish her speech, ‘there is nothing I so abominate for I have something to say;’ and the unaffected, easy kindness
young people as a long engagement. It is what I always proof manner which denoted the feelings of an older acquain-
tested against for my children. It is all very well, I used to tance than he really was, strongly enforced the invitation.
say, for young people to be engaged, if there is a certainty of She roused herself and went to him. The window at which
their being able to marry in six months, or even in twelve; he stood was at the other end of the room from where the
but a long engagement—‘ two ladies were sitting, and though nearer to Captain Went-
‘Yes, dear ma’am,’ said Mrs Croft, ‘or an uncertain en- worth’s table, not very near. As she joined him, Captain
gagement, an engagement which may be long. To begin Harville’s countenance re-assumed the serious, thoughtful
without knowing that at such a time there will be the means expression which seemed its natural character.
of marrying, I hold to be very unsafe and unwise, and what ‘Look here,’ said he, unfolding a parcel in his hand, and
I think all parents should prevent as far as they can.’ displaying a small miniature painting, ‘do you know who
Anne found an unexpected interest here. She felt its ap- that is?’
plication to herself, felt it in a nervous thrill all over her; and ‘Certainly: Captain Benwick.’
at the same moment that her eyes instinctively glanced to- ‘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 it does not apply to Benwick. He has not been forced upon
our walking together at Lyme, and grieving for him? I little any exertion. The peace turned him on shore at the very
thought then— but no matter. This was drawn at the Cape. moment, and he has been living with us, in our little family
He met with a clever young German artist at the Cape, and circle, ever since.’
in compliance with a promise to my poor sister, sat to him, ‘True,’ said Anne, ‘very true; I did not recollect; but what
and was bringing it home for her; and I have now the charge shall we say now, Captain Harville? If the change be not
of getting it properly set for another! It was a commission to from outward circumstances, it must be from within; it
me! But who else was there to employ? I hope I can allow for must be nature, man’s nature, which has done the business
him. I am not sorry, indeed, to make it over to another. He for Captain Benwick.’
undertakes it;’ (looking towards Captain Wentworth,) ‘he ‘No, no, it is not man’s nature. I will not allow it to be
is writing about it now.’ And with a quivering lip he wound more man’s nature than woman’s to be inconstant and for-
up the whole by adding, ‘Poor Fanny! she would not have get those they do love, or have loved. I believe the reverse.
forgotten him so soon!’ I believe in a true analogy between our bodily frames and
‘No,’ replied Anne, in a low, feeling voice. ‘That I can eas- our mental; and that as our bodies are the strongest, so are
ily believe.’ our feelings; capable of bearing most rough usage, and rid-
‘It was not in her nature. She doted on him.’ ing out the heaviest weather.’
‘It would not be the nature of any woman who truly ‘Your feelings may be the strongest,’ replied Anne, ‘but
loved.’ the same spirit of analogy will authorise me to assert that
Captain Harville smiled, as much as to say, ‘Do you claim ours are the most tender. Man is more robust than wom-
that for your sex?’ and she answered the question, smiling an, but he is not longer lived; which exactly explains my
also, ‘Yes. We certainly do not forget you as soon as you view of the nature of their attachments. Nay, it would be too
forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit. We hard upon you, if it were otherwise. You have difficulties,
cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, confined, and and privations, and dangers enough to struggle with. You
our feelings prey upon us. You are forced on exertion. You are always labouring and toiling, exposed to every risk and
have always a profession, pursuits, business of some sort or hardship. Your home, country, friends, all quitted. Neither
other, to take you back into the world immediately, and con- time, nor health, nor life, to be called your own. It would be
tinual occupation and change soon weaken impressions.’ hard, indeed’ (with a faltering voice), ‘if woman’s feelings
‘Granting your assertion that the world does all this so were to be added to all this.’
soon for men (which, however, I do not think I shall grant), ‘We shall never agree upon this question,’ Captain Har-

ville was beginning to say, when a slight noise called their ‘But how shall we prove anything?’
attention to Captain Wentworth’s hitherto perfectly quiet ‘We never shall. We never can expect to prove any thing
division of the room. It was nothing more than that his pen upon such a point. It is a difference of opinion which does
had fallen down; but Anne was startled at finding him near- not admit of proof. We each begin, probably, with a little
er than she had supposed, and half inclined to suspect that bias towards our own sex; and upon that bias build every
the pen had only fallen because he had been occupied by circumstance in favour of it which has occurred within our
them, striving to catch sounds, which yet she did not think own circle; many of which circumstances (perhaps those
he could have caught. very cases which strike us the most) may be precisely such
‘Have you finished your letter?’ said Captain Harville. as cannot be brought forward without betraying a confi-
‘Not quite, a few lines more. I shall have done in five min- dence, or in some respect saying what should not be said.’
utes.’ ‘Ah!’ cried Captain Harville, in a tone of strong feeling, ‘if
‘There is no hurry on my side. I am only ready when- I could but make you comprehend what a man suffers when
ever you are. I am in very good anchorage here,’ (smiling at he takes a last look at his wife and children, and watches
Anne,) ‘well supplied, and want for nothing. No hurry for a the boat that he has sent them off in, as long as it is in sight,
signal at all. Well, Miss Elliot,’ (lowering his voice,) ‘as I was and then turns away and says, ‘God knows whether we ever
saying we shall never agree, I suppose, upon this point. No meet again!’ And then, if I could convey to you the glow of
man and woman, would, probably. But let me observe that his soul when he does see them again; when, coming back
all histories are against you—all stories, prose and verse. If after a twelvemonth’s absence, perhaps, and obliged to put
I had such a memory as Benwick, I could bring you fifty into another port, he calculates how soon it be possible to
quotations in a moment on my side the argument, and I do get them there, pretending to deceive himself, and saying,
not think I ever opened a book in my life which had not ‘They cannot be here till such a day,’ but all the while hoping
something to say upon woman’s inconstancy. Songs and for them twelve hours sooner, and seeing them arrive at last,
proverbs, all talk of woman’s fickleness. But perhaps you as if Heaven had given them wings, by many hours sooner
will say, these were all written by men.’ still! If I could explain to you all this, and all that a man can
‘Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to bear and do, and glories to do, for the sake of these treasures
examples in books. Men have had every advantage of us of his existence! I speak, you know, only of such men as have
in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so hearts!’ pressing his own with emotion.
much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I ‘Oh!’ cried Anne eagerly, ‘I hope I do justice to all that
will not allow books to prove anything.’ is felt by you, and by those who resemble you. God forbid

that I should undervalue the warm and faithful feelings of ‘Yes,’ said he, ‘very true; here we separate, but Harville
any of my fellow-creatures! I should deserve utter contempt and I shall soon be after you; that is, Harville, if you are
if I dared to suppose that true attachment and constan- ready, I am in half a minute. I know you will not be sorry to
cy were known only by woman. No, I believe you capable be off. I shall be at your service in half a minute.’
of everything great and good in your married lives. I be- Mrs Croft left them, and Captain Wentworth, having
lieve you equal to every important exertion, and to every sealed his letter with great rapidity, was indeed ready, and
domestic forbearance, so long as—if I may be allowed the had even a hurried, agitated air, which shewed impatience
expression—so long as you have an object. I mean while the to be gone. Anne knew not how to understand it. She had
woman you love lives, and lives for you. All the privilege the kindest ‘Good morning, God bless you!’ from Cap-
I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one; you tain Harville, but from him not a word, nor a look! He had
need not covet it), is that of loving longest, when existence passed out of the room without a look!
or when hope is gone.’ She had only time, however, to move closer to the table
She could not immediately have uttered another sentence; where he had been writing, when footsteps were heard re-
her heart was too full, her breath too much oppressed. turning; the door opened, it was himself. He begged their
‘You are a good soul,’ cried Captain Harville, putting his pardon, but he had forgotten his gloves, and instantly cross-
hand on her arm, quite affectionately. ‘There is no quarrel- ing the room to the writing table, he drew out a letter from
ling with you. And when I think of Benwick, my tongue is under the scattered paper, placed it before Anne with eyes
tied.’ of glowing entreaty fixed on her for a time, and hastily col-
Their attention was called towards the others. Mrs Croft lecting his gloves, was again out of the room, almost before
was taking leave. Mrs Musgrove was aware of his being in it: the work of an
‘Here, Frederick, you and I part company, I believe,’ said instant!
she. ‘I am going home, and you have an engagement with The revolution which one instant had made in Anne, was
your friend. To-night we may have the pleasure of all meet- almost beyond expression. The letter, with a direction hard-
ing again at your party,’ (turning to Anne.) ‘We had your ly legible, to ‘Miss A. E.—,’ was evidently the one which he
sister’s card yesterday, and I understood Frederick had a had been folding so hastily. While supposed to be writing
card too, though I did not see it; and you are disengaged, only to Captain Benwick, he had been also addressing her!
Frederick, are you not, as well as ourselves?’ On the contents of that letter depended all which this world
Captain Wentworth was folding up a letter in great haste, could do for her. Anything was possible, anything might
and either could not or would not answer fully. be defied rather than suspense. Mrs Musgrove had little ar-

rangements of her own at her own table; to their protection hour’s solitude and reflection might have tranquillized her;
she must trust, and sinking into the chair which he had oc- but the ten minutes only which now passed before she was
cupied, succeeding to the very spot where he had leaned and interrupted, with all the restraints of her situation, could do
written, her eyes devoured the following words: nothing towards tranquillity. Every moment rather brought
‘I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by fresh agitation. It was overpowering happiness. And before
such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I she was beyond the first stage of full sensation, Charles,
am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, Mary, and Henrietta all came in.
that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself The absolute necessity of seeming like herself produced
to you again with a heart even more your own than when then an immediate struggle; but after a while she could do
you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not no more. She began not to understand a word they said, and
say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has was obliged to plead indisposition and excuse herself. They
an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may could then see that she looked very ill, were shocked and
have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never incon- concerned, and would not stir without her for the world.
stant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, This was dreadful. Would they only have gone away, and left
I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to her in the quiet possession of that room it would have been
have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten her cure; but to have them all standing or waiting around
days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must her was distracting, and in desperation, she said she would
have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant go home.
hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your ‘By all means, my dear,’ cried Mrs Musgrove, ‘go home
voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when directly, and take care of yourself, that you may be fit for
they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent crea- the evening. I wish Sarah was here to doctor you, but I am
ture! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is no doctor myself. Charles, ring and order a chair. She must
true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be not walk.’
most fervent, most undeviating, in F. W. But the chair would never do. Worse than all! To lose the
‘I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, possibility of speaking two words to Captain Wentworth
or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will in the course of her quiet, solitary progress up the town
be enough to decide whether I enter your father’s house this (and she felt almost certain of meeting him) could not be
evening or never.’ borne. The chair was earnestly protested against, and Mrs
Such a letter was not to be soon recovered from. Half and Musgrove, who thought only of one sort of illness, having

assured herself with some anxiety, that there had been no vexation occurred. Charles, in his real concern and good
fall in the case; that Anne had not at any time lately slipped nature, would go home with her; there was no preventing
down, and got a blow on her head; that she was perfectly him. This was almost cruel. But she could not be long un-
convinced of having had no fall; could part with her cheer- grateful; he was sacrificing an engagement at a gunsmith’s,
fully, and depend on finding her better at night. to be of use to her; and she set off with him, with no feeling
Anxious to omit no possible precaution, Anne struggled, but gratitude apparent.
and said— They were on Union Street, when a quicker step behind, a
‘I am afraid, ma’am, that it is not perfectly understood. something of familiar sound, gave her two moments’ prepa-
Pray be so good as to mention to the other gentlemen that ration for the sight of Captain Wentworth. He joined them;
we hope to see your whole party this evening. I am afraid but, as if irresolute whether to join or to pass on, said noth-
there had been some mistake; and I wish you particularly to ing, only looked. Anne could command herself enough to
assure Captain Harville and Captain Wentworth, that we receive that look, and not repulsively. The cheeks which had
hope to see them both.’ been pale now glowed, and the movements which had hesi-
‘Oh! my dear, it is quite understood, I give you my word. tated were decided. He walked by her side. Presently, struck
Captain Harville has no thought but of going.’ by a sudden thought, Charles said—
‘Do you think so? But I am afraid; and I should be so ‘Captain Wentworth, which way are you going? Only to
very sorry. Will you promise me to mention it, when you Gay Street, or farther up the town?’
see them again? You will see them both this morning, I dare ‘I hardly know,’ replied Captain Wentworth, surprised.
say. Do promise me.’ ‘Are you going as high as Belmont? Are you going near
‘To be sure I will, if you wish it. Charles, if you see Cap- Camden Place? Because, if you are, I shall have no scruple in
tain Harville anywhere, remember to give Miss Anne’s asking you to take my place, and give Anne your arm to her
message. But indeed, my dear, you need not be uneasy. Cap- father’s door. She is rather done for this morning, and must
tain Harville holds himself quite engaged, I’ll answer for it; not go so far without help, and I ought to be at that fellow’s
and Captain Wentworth the same, I dare say.’ in the Market Place. He promised me the sight of a capital
Anne could do no more; but her heart prophesied some gun he is just going to send off; said he would keep it un-
mischance to damp the perfection of her felicity. It could not packed to the last possible moment, that I might see it; and
be very lasting, however. Even if he did not come to Camden if I do not turn back now, I have no chance. By his descrip-
Place himself, it would be in her power to send an intel- tion, a good deal like the second size double-barrel of mine,
ligible sentence by Captain Harville. Another momentary which you shot with one day round Winthrop.’

There could not be an objection. There could be only been the retarding weight, the doubt, the torment. That had
the most proper alacrity, a most obliging compliance for begun to operate in the very hour of first meeting her in
public view; and smiles reined in and spirits dancing in pri- Bath; that had returned, after a short suspension, to ruin
vate rapture. In half a minute Charles was at the bottom of the concert; and that had influenced him in everything
Union Street again, and the other two proceeding together: he had said and done, or omitted to say and do, in the last
and soon words enough had passed between them to de- four-and-twenty hours. It had been gradually yielding to
cide their direction towards the comparatively quiet and the better hopes which her looks, or words, or actions occa-
retired gravel walk, where the power of conversation would sionally encouraged; it had been vanquished at last by those
make the present hour a blessing indeed, and prepare it for sentiments and those tones which had reached him while
all the immortality which the happiest recollections of their she talked with Captain Harville; and under the irresist-
own future lives could bestow. There they exchanged again ible governance of which he had seized a sheet of paper, and
those feelings and those promises which had once before poured out his feelings.
seemed to secure everything, but which had been followed Of what he had then written, nothing was to be retracted
by so many, many years of division and estrangement. There or qualified. He persisted in having loved none but her. She
they returned again into the past, more exquisitely happy, had never been supplanted. He never even believed himself
perhaps, in their re-union, than when it had been first pro- to see her equal. Thus much indeed he was obliged to ac-
jected; more tender, more tried, more fixed in a knowledge knowledge: that he had been constant unconsciously, nay
of each other’s character, truth, and attachment; more equal unintentionally; that he had meant to forget her, and believed
to act, more justified in acting. And there, as they slowly it to be done. He had imagined himself indifferent, when he
paced the gradual ascent, heedless of every group around had only been angry; and he had been unjust to her merits,
them, seeing neither sauntering politicians, bustling house- because he had been a sufferer from them. Her character
keepers, flirting girls, nor nursery-maids and children, they was now fixed on his mind as perfection itself, maintain-
could indulge in those retrospections and acknowledge- ing the loveliest medium of fortitude and gentleness; but
ments, and especially in those explanations of what had he was obliged to acknowledge that only at Uppercross had
directly preceded the present moment, which were so poi- he learnt to do her justice, and only at Lyme had he begun
gnant and so ceaseless in interest. All the little variations of to understand himself. At Lyme, he had received lessons of
the last week were gone through; and of yesterday and today more than one sort. The passing admiration of Mr Elliot
there could scarcely be an end. had at least roused him, and the scenes on the Cobb and at
She had not mistaken him. Jealousy of Mr Elliot had Captain Harville’s had fixed her superiority.

In his preceding attempts to attach himself to Louisa macy must have its danger of ill consequence in many ways;
Musgrove (the attempts of angry pride), he protested that and that I had no right to be trying whether I could attach
he had for ever felt it to be impossible; that he had not cared, myself to either of the girls, at the risk of raising even an
could not care, for Louisa; though till that day, till the lei- unpleasant report, were there no other ill effects. I had been
sure for reflection which followed it, he had not understood grossly wrong, and must abide the consequences.’
the perfect excellence of the mind with which Louisa’s could He found too late, in short, that he had entangled him-
so ill bear a comparison, or the perfect unrivalled hold it self; and that precisely as he became fully satisfied of his not
possessed over his own. There, he had learnt to distinguish caring for Louisa at all, he must regard himself as bound
between the steadiness of principle and the obstinacy of to her, if her sentiments for him were what the Harvilles
self-will, between the darings of heedlessness and the reso- supposed. It determined him to leave Lyme, and await her
lution of a collected mind. There he had seen everything to complete recovery elsewhere. He would gladly weaken, by
exalt in his estimation the woman he had lost; and there any fair means, whatever feelings or speculations concern-
begun to deplore the pride, the folly, the madness of resenting him might exist; and he went, therefore, to his brother’s,
ment, which had kept him from trying to regain her when meaning after a while to return to Kellynch, and act as cir-
thrown in his way. cumstances might require.
From that period his penance had become severe. He had ‘I was six weeks with Edward,’ said he, ‘and saw him
no sooner been free from the horror and remorse attending happy. I could have no other pleasure. I deserved none. He
the first few days of Louisa’s accident, no sooner begun to enquired after you very particularly; asked even if you were
feel himself alive again, than he had begun to feel himself, personally altered, little suspecting that to my eye you could
though alive, not at liberty. never alter.’
‘I found,’ said he, ‘that I was considered by Harville an Anne smiled, and let it pass. It was too pleasing a blunder
engaged man! That neither Harville nor his wife enter- for a reproach. It is something for a woman to be assured,
tained a doubt of our mutual attachment. I was startled in her eight-and-twentieth year, that she has not lost one
and shocked. To a degree, I could contradict this instantly; charm of earlier youth; but the value of such homage was
but, when I began to reflect that others might have felt the inexpressibly increased to Anne, by comparing it with for-
same—her own family, nay, perhaps herself—I was no lon- mer words, and feeling it to be the result, not the cause of a
ger at my own disposal. I was hers in honour if she wished revival of his warm attachment.
it. I had been unguarded. I had not thought seriously on this He had remained in Shropshire, lamenting the blindness
subject before. I had not considered that my excessive inti- of his own pride, and the blunders of his own calculations,

till at once released from Louisa by the astonishing and fe- er what powerful supports would be his! Was it not enough
licitous intelligence of her engagement with Benwick. to make the fool of me which I appeared? How could I look
‘Here,’ said he, ‘ended the worst of my state; for now I on without agony? Was not the very sight of the friend who
could at least put myself in the way of happiness; I could sat behind you, was not the recollection of what had been,
exert myself; I could do something. But to be waiting so the knowledge of her influence, the indelible, immoveable
long in inaction, and waiting only for evil, had been dread- impression of what persuasion had once done— was it not
ful. Within the first five minutes I said, ‘I will be at Bath all against me?’
on Wednesday,’ and I was. Was it unpardonable to think it ‘You should have distinguished,’ replied Anne. ‘You
worth my while to come? and to arrive with some degree of should not have suspected me now; the case is so different,
hope? You were single. It was possible that you might retain and my age is so different. If I was wrong in yielding to per-
the feelings of the past, as I did; and one encouragement suasion once, remember that it was to persuasion exerted
happened to be mine. I could never doubt that you would on the side of safety, not of risk. When I yielded, I thought
be loved and sought by others, but I knew to a certainty it was to duty, but no duty could be called in aid here. In
that you had refused one man, at least, of better pretensions marrying a man indifferent to me, all risk would have been
than myself; and I could not help often saying, ‘Was this incurred, and all duty violated.’
for me?’’ ‘Perhaps I ought to have reasoned thus,’ he replied, ‘but
Their first meeting in Milsom Street afforded much to be I could not. I could not derive benefit from the late knowl-
said, but the concert still more. That evening seemed to be edge I had acquired of your character. I could not bring it
made up of exquisite moments. The moment of her stepping into play; it was overwhelmed, buried, lost in those earlier
forward in the Octagon Room to speak to him: the moment feelings which I had been smarting under year after year. I
of Mr Elliot’s appearing and tearing her away, and one or could think of you only as one who had yielded, who had
two subsequent moments, marked by returning hope or in- given me up, who had been influenced by any one rather
creasing despondency, were dwelt on with energy. than by me. I saw you with the very person who had guided
‘To see you,’ cried he, ‘in the midst of those who could you in that year of misery. I had no reason to believe her of
not be my well-wishers; to see your cousin close by you, less authority now. The force of habit was to be added.’
conversing and smiling, and feel all the horrible eligibilities ‘I should have thought,’ said Anne, ‘that my manner to
and proprieties of the match! To consider it as the certain yourself might have spared you much or all of this.’
wish of every being who could hope to influence you! Even ‘No, no! your manner might be only the ease which your
if your own feelings were reluctant or indifferent, to consid- engagement to another man would give. I left you in this be-

lief; and yet, I was determined to see you again. My spirits er and sister; with Lady Russell, attempts at conversation,
rallied with the morning, and I felt that I had still a motive which a delicious consciousness cut short; with Admiral
for remaining here.’ and Mrs Croft, everything of peculiar cordiality and fervent
At last Anne was at home again, and happier than any interest, which the same consciousness sought to conceal;
one in that house could have conceived. All the surprise and with Captain Wentworth, some moments of communi-
and suspense, and every other painful part of the morning cations continually occurring, and always the hope of more,
dissipated by this conversation, she re-entered the house so and always the knowledge of his being there.
happy as to be obliged to find an alloy in some momentary It was in one of these short meetings, each apparently
apprehensions of its being impossible to last. An interval occupied in admiring a fine display of greenhouse plants,
of meditation, serious and grateful, was the best corrective that she said—
of everything dangerous in such high-wrought felicity; and ‘I have been thinking over the past, and trying impar-
she went to her room, and grew steadfast and fearless in the tially to judge of the right and wrong, I mean with regard
thankfulness of her enjoyment. to myself; and I must believe that I was right, much as I suf-
The evening came, the drawing-rooms were lighted up, fered from it, that I was perfectly right in being guided by
the company assembled. It was but a card party, it was but the friend whom you will love better than you do now. To
a mixture of those who had never met before, and those me, she was in the place of a parent. Do not mistake me,
who met too often; a commonplace business, too numer- however. I am not saying that she did not err in her advice.
ous for intimacy, too small for variety; but Anne had never It was, perhaps, one of those cases in which advice is good
found an evening shorter. Glowing and lovely in sensibil- or bad only as the event decides; and for myself, I certainly
ity and happiness, and more generally admired than she never should, in any circumstance of tolerable similarity,
thought about or cared for, she had cheerful or forbearing give such advice. But I mean, that I was right in submitting
feelings for every creature around her. Mr Elliot was there; to her, and that if I had done otherwise, I should have suf-
she avoided, but she could pity him. The Wallises, she had fered more in continuing the engagement than I did even
amusement in understanding them. Lady Dalrymple and in giving it up, because I should have suffered in my con-
Miss Carteret—they would soon be innoxious cousins to science. I have now, as far as such a sentiment is allowable
her. She cared not for Mrs Clay, and had nothing to blush in human nature, nothing to reproach myself with; and if I
for in the public manners of her father and sister. With the mistake not, a strong sense of duty is no bad part of a wom-
Musgroves, there was the happy chat of perfect ease; with an’s portion.’
Captain Harville, the kind-hearted intercourse of broth- 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 Chapter 24
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 Who can be in doubt of what followed? When any two
returned to England in the year eight, with a few thousand young people take it into their heads to marry, they are
pounds, and was posted into the Laconia, if I had then writ- pretty sure by perseverance to carry their point, be they
ten to you, would you have answered my letter? Would you, ever so poor, or ever so imprudent, or ever so little likely to
in short, have renewed the engagement then?’ be necessary to each other’s ultimate comfort. This may be
‘Would I!’ was all her answer; but the accent was decisive bad morality to conclude with, but I believe it to be truth;
enough. and if such parties succeed, how should a Captain Went-
‘Good God!’ he cried, ‘you would! It is not that I did not worth and an Anne Elliot, with the advantage of maturity
think of it, or desire it, as what could alone crown all my of mind, consciousness of right, and one independent for-
other success; but I was proud, too proud to ask again. I did tune between them, fail of bearing down every opposition?
not understand you. I shut my eyes, and would not under- They might in fact, have borne down a great deal more than
stand you, or do you justice. This is a recollection which they met with, for there was little to distress them beyond
ought to make me forgive every one sooner than myself. Six the want of graciousness and warmth. Sir Walter made
years of separation and suffering might have been spared. It no objection, and Elizabeth did nothing worse than look
is a sort of pain, too, which is new to me. I have been used cold and unconcerned. Captain Wentworth, with five-and-
to the gratification of believing myself to earn every bless- twenty thousand pounds, and as high in his profession as
ing that I enjoyed. I have valued myself on honourable toils merit and activity could place him, was no longer nobody.
and just rewards. Like other great men under reverses,’ he He was now esteemed quite worthy to address the daughter
added, with a smile. ‘I must endeavour to subdue my mind of a foolish, spendthrift baronet, who had not had princi-
to my fortune. I must learn to brook being happier than I ple or sense enough to maintain himself in the situation in
deserve.’ which Providence had placed him, and who could give his
daughter at present but a small part of the share of ten thou-
sand 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 There is a quickness of perception in some, a nicety in
occasion, was very far from thinking it a bad match for her. the discernment of character, a natural penetration, in
On the contrary, when he saw more of Captain Wentworth, short, which no experience in others can equal, and Lady
saw him repeatedly by daylight, and eyed him well, he was Russell had been less gifted in this part of understanding
very much struck by his personal claims, and felt that his than her young friend. But she was a very good woman, and
superiority of appearance might be not unfairly balanced if her second object was to be sensible and well-judging, her
against her superiority of rank; and all this, assisted by his first was to see Anne happy. She loved Anne better than she
well-sounding name, enabled Sir Walter at last to prepare loved her own abilities; and when the awkwardness of the
his pen, with a very good grace, for the insertion of the mar- beginning was over, found little hardship in attaching her-
riage in the volume of honour. self as a mother to the man who was securing the happiness
The only one among them, whose opposition of feeling of her other child.
could excite any serious anxiety was Lady Russell. Anne Of all the family, Mary was probably the one most im-
knew that Lady Russell must be suffering some pain in mediately gratified by the circumstance. It was creditable to
understanding and relinquishing Mr Elliot, and be mak- have a sister married, and she might flatter herself with hav-
ing some struggles to become truly acquainted with, and ing been greatly instrumental to the connexion, by keeping
do justice to Captain Wentworth. This however was what Anne with her in the autumn; and as her own sister must
Lady Russell had now to do. She must learn to feel that she be better than her husband’s sisters, it was very agreeable
had been mistaken with regard to both; that she had been that Captain Wentworth should be a richer man than either
unfairly influenced by appearances in each; that because Captain Benwick or Charles Hayter. She had something to
Captain Wentworth’s manners had not suited her own suffer, perhaps, when they came into contact again, in see-
ideas, she had been too quick in suspecting them to indi- ing Anne restored to the rights of seniority, and the mistress
cate a character of dangerous impetuosity; and that because of a very pretty landaulette; but she had a future to look for-
Mr Elliot’s manners had precisely pleased her in their pro- ward to, of powerful consolation. Anne had no Uppercross
priety and correctness, their general politeness and suavity, Hall before her, no landed estate, no headship of a family;
she had been too quick in receiving them as the certain re- and if they could but keep Captain Wentworth from be-
sult of the most correct opinions and well-regulated mind. ing made a baronet, she would not change situations with
There was nothing less for Lady Russell to do, than to admit Anne.
that she had been pretty completely wrong, and to take up a It would be well for the eldest sister if she were equally
new set of opinions and of hopes. satisfied with her situation, for a change is not very proba-

ble there. She had soon the mortification of seeing Mr Elliot tered and followed in turn, is but a state of half enjoyment.
withdraw, and no one of proper condition has since pre- Anne, satisfied at a very early period of Lady Russell’s
sented himself to raise even the unfounded hopes which meaning to love Captain Wentworth as she ought, had no
sunk with him. other alloy to the happiness of her prospects than what
The news of his cousins Anne’s engagement burst on Mr arose from the consciousness of having no relations to be-
Elliot most unexpectedly. It deranged his best plan of do- stow on him which a man of sense could value. There she
mestic happiness, his best hope of keeping Sir Walter single felt her own inferiority very keenly. The disproportion in
by the watchfulness which a son-in-law’s rights would have their fortune was nothing; it did not give her a moment’s
given. But, though discomfited and disappointed, he could regret; but to have no family to receive and estimate him
still do something for his own interest and his own enjoy- properly, nothing of respectability, of harmony, of good will
ment. He soon quitted Bath; and on Mrs Clay’s quitting it to offer in return for all the worth and all the prompt wel-
soon afterwards, and being next heard of as established un- come which met her in his brothers and sisters, was a source
der his protection in London, it was evident how double a of as lively pain as her mind could well be sensible of un-
game he had been playing, and how determined he was to der circumstances of otherwise strong felicity. She had but
save himself from being cut out by one artful woman, at two friends in the world to add to his list, Lady Russell and
least. Mrs Smith. To those, however, he was very well disposed to
Mrs Clay’s affections had overpowered her interest, and attach himself. Lady Russell, in spite of all her former trans-
she had sacrificed, for the young man’s sake, the possibility gressions, he could now value from his heart. While he was
of scheming longer for Sir Walter. She has abilities, however, not obliged to say that he believed her to have been right
as well as affections; and it is now a doubtful point whether in originally dividing them, he was ready to say almost ev-
his cunning, or hers, may finally carry the day; whether, af- erything else in her favour, and as for Mrs Smith, she had
ter preventing her from being the wife of Sir Walter, he may claims of various kinds to recommend her quickly and per-
not be wheedled and caressed at last into making her the manently.
wife of Sir William. Her recent good offices by Anne had been enough in
It cannot be doubted that Sir Walter and Elizabeth were themselves, and their marriage, instead of depriving her of
shocked and mortified by the loss of their companion, and one friend, secured her two. She was their earliest visitor in
the discovery of their deception in her. They had their great their settled life; and Captain Wentworth, by putting her in
cousins, to be sure, to resort to for comfort; but they must the way of recovering her husband’s property in the West
long feel that to flatter and follow others, without being flat- Indies, by writing for her, acting for her, and seeing her

through all the petty difficulties of the case with the activ-
ity 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 im-
provement 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
304 Persuasion

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Persuasion

By Jane Austen (1818)

“ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH HALL.

‘Walter Elliot, born March 1, 1760, married, July 15, 1784,

Precisely such had the paragraph originally stood from

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A very few days more, and Captain Wentworth was known

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