No More Learning

She hoped to be wise and reasonable in time; but alas! alas! she must
confess to herself that she was not wise yet.

Another circumstance very essential for her to know, was how long he
meant to be in Bath; he had not mentioned it, or she could not
recollect it. He might be only passing through. But it was more
probable that he should be come to stay. In that case, so liable as
every body was to meet every body in Bath, Lady Russell would in all
likelihood see him somewhere. Would she recollect him? How would it
all be?

She had already been obliged to tell Lady Russell that Louisa Musgrove
was to marry Captain Benwick. It had cost her something to encounter
Lady Russell's surprise; and now, if she were by any chance to be
thrown into company with Captain Wentworth, her imperfect knowledge of
the matter might add another shade of prejudice against him.

The following morning Anne was out with her friend, and for the first
hour, in an incessant and fearful sort of watch for him in vain; but at
last, in returning down Pulteney Street, she distinguished him on the
right hand pavement at such a distance as to have him in view the
greater part of the street. There were many other men about him, many
groups walking the same way, but there was no mistaking him. She
looked instinctively at Lady Russell; but not from any mad idea of her
recognising him so soon as she did herself. No, it was not to be
supposed that Lady Russell would perceive him till they were nearly
opposite. She looked at her however, from time to time, anxiously; and
when the moment approached which must point him out, though not daring
to look again (for her own countenance she knew was unfit to be seen),
she was yet perfectly conscious of Lady Russell's eyes being turned
exactly in the direction for him--of her being, in short, intently
observing him. She could thoroughly comprehend the sort of fascination
he must possess over Lady Russell's mind, the difficulty it must be for
her to withdraw her eyes, the astonishment she must be feeling that
eight or nine years should have passed over him, and in foreign climes
and in active service too, without robbing him of one personal grace!

At last, Lady Russell drew back her head. "Now, how would she speak of
him? "

"You will wonder," said she, "what has been fixing my eye so long; but
I was looking after some window-curtains, which Lady Alicia and Mrs
Frankland were telling me of last night. They described the
drawing-room window-curtains of one of the houses on this side of the
way, and this part of the street, as being the handsomest and best hung
of any in Bath, but could not recollect the exact number, and I have
been trying to find out which it could be; but I confess I can see no
curtains hereabouts that answer their description. "

Anne sighed and blushed and smiled, in pity and disdain, either at her
friend or herself. The part which provoked her most, was that in all
this waste of foresight and caution, she should have lost the right
moment for seeing whether he saw them.

A day or two passed without producing anything. The theatre or the
rooms, where he was most likely to be, were not fashionable enough for
the Elliots, whose evening amusements were solely in the elegant
stupidity of private parties, in which they were getting more and more
engaged; and Anne, wearied of such a state of stagnation, sick of
knowing nothing, and fancying herself stronger because her strength was
not tried, was quite impatient for the concert evening. It was a
concert for the benefit of a person patronised by Lady Dalrymple. Of
course they must attend. It was really expected to be a good one, and
Captain Wentworth was very fond of music. If she could only have a few
minutes conversation with him again, she fancied she should be
satisfied; and as to the power of addressing him, she felt all over
courage if the opportunity occurred. Elizabeth had turned from him,
Lady Russell overlooked him; her nerves were strengthened by these
circumstances; she felt that she owed him attention.

She had once partly promised Mrs Smith to spend the evening with her;
but in a short hurried call she excused herself and put it off, with
the more decided promise of a longer visit on the morrow. Mrs Smith
gave a most good-humoured acquiescence.

"By all means," said she; "only tell me all about it, when you do come.
Who is your party? "

Anne named them all. Mrs Smith made no reply; but when she was leaving
her said, and with an expression half serious, half arch, "Well, I
heartily wish your concert may answer; and do not fail me to-morrow if
you can come; for I begin to have a foreboding that I may not have many
more visits from you. "

Anne was startled and confused; but after standing in a moment's
suspense, was obliged, and not sorry to be obliged, to hurry away.



Chapter 20


Sir Walter, his two daughters, and Mrs Clay, were the earliest of all
their party at the rooms in the evening; and as Lady Dalrymple must be
waited for, they took their station by one of the fires in the Octagon
Room. But hardly were they so settled, when the door opened again, and
Captain Wentworth walked in alone. Anne was the nearest to him, and
making yet a little advance, she instantly spoke. He was preparing
only to bow and pass on, but her gentle "How do you do? " brought him
out of the straight line to stand near her, and make enquiries in
return, in spite of the formidable father and sister in the back
ground. Their being in the back ground was a support to Anne; she knew
nothing of their looks, and felt equal to everything which she believed
right to be done.

While they were speaking, a whispering between her father and Elizabeth
caught her ear. She could not distinguish, but she must guess the
subject; and on Captain Wentworth's making a distant bow, she
comprehended that her father had judged so well as to give him that
simple acknowledgement of acquaintance, and she was just in time by a
side glance to see a slight curtsey from Elizabeth herself. This,
though late, and reluctant, and ungracious, was yet better than
nothing, and her spirits improved.

After talking, however, of the weather, and Bath, and the concert,
their conversation began to flag, and so little was said at last, that
she was expecting him to go every moment, but he did not; he seemed in
no hurry to leave her; and presently with renewed spirit, with a little
smile, a little glow, he said--

"I have hardly seen you since our day at Lyme. I am afraid you must
have suffered from the shock, and the more from its not overpowering
you at the time. "

She assured him that she had not.

"It was a frightful hour," said he, "a frightful day! " and he passed
his hand across his eyes, as if the remembrance were still too painful,
but in a moment, half smiling again, added, "The day has produced some
effects however; has had some consequences which must be considered as
the very reverse of frightful. When you had the presence of mind to
suggest that Benwick would be the properest person to fetch a surgeon,
you could have little idea of his being eventually one of those most
concerned in her recovery. "

"Certainly I could have none. But it appears--I should hope it would
be a very happy match. There are on both sides good principles and
good temper. "

"Yes," said he, looking not exactly forward; "but there, I think, ends
the resemblance. With all my soul I wish them happy, and rejoice over
every circumstance in favour of it. They have no difficulties to
contend with at home, no opposition, no caprice, no delays. The
Musgroves are behaving like themselves, most honourably and kindly,
only anxious with true parental hearts to promote their daughter's
comfort. All this is much, very much in favour of their happiness;
more than perhaps--"

He stopped. A sudden recollection seemed to occur, and to give him
some taste of that emotion which was reddening Anne's cheeks and fixing
her eyes on the ground. After clearing his throat, however, he
proceeded thus--

"I confess that I do think there is a disparity, too great a disparity,
and in a point no less essential than mind. I regard Louisa Musgrove
as a very amiable, sweet-tempered girl, and not deficient in
understanding, but Benwick is something more. He is a clever man, a
reading man; and I confess, that I do consider his attaching himself to
her with some surprise. Had it been the effect of gratitude, had he
learnt to love her, because he believed her to be preferring him, it
would have been another thing. But I have no reason to suppose it so.
It seems, on the contrary, to have been a perfectly spontaneous,
untaught feeling on his side, and this surprises me. A man like him,
in his situation! with a heart pierced, wounded, almost broken! Fanny
Harville was a very superior creature, and his attachment to her was
indeed attachment. A man does not recover from such a devotion of the
heart to such a woman. He ought not; he does not. "

Either from the consciousness, however, that his friend had recovered,
or from other consciousness, he went no farther; and Anne who, in spite
of the agitated voice in which the latter part had been uttered, and in
spite of all the various noises of the room, the almost ceaseless slam
of the door, and ceaseless buzz of persons walking through, had
distinguished every word, was struck, gratified, confused, and
beginning to breathe very quick, and feel an hundred things in a
moment. It was impossible for her to enter on such a subject; and yet,
after a pause, feeling the necessity of speaking, and having not the
smallest wish for a total change, she only deviated so far as to say--

"You were a good while at Lyme, I think? "

"About a fortnight. I could not leave it till Louisa's doing well was
quite ascertained. I had been too deeply concerned in the mischief to
be soon at peace. It had been my doing, solely mine. She would not
have been obstinate if I had not been weak. The country round Lyme is
very fine. I walked and rode a great deal; and the more I saw, the
more I found to admire. "

"I should very much like to see Lyme again," said Anne.

"Indeed! I should not have supposed that you could have found anything
in Lyme to inspire such a feeling. The horror and distress you were
involved in, the stretch of mind, the wear of spirits! I should have
thought your last impressions of Lyme must have been strong disgust. "

"The last hours were certainly very painful," replied Anne; "but when
pain is over, the remembrance of it often becomes a pleasure. One does
not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been
all suffering, nothing but suffering, which was by no means the case at
Lyme. We were only in anxiety and distress during the last two hours,
and previously there had been a great deal of enjoyment. So much
novelty and beauty! I have travelled so little, that every fresh place
would be interesting to me; but there is real beauty at Lyme; and in
short" (with a faint blush at some recollections), "altogether my
impressions of the place are very agreeable. "

As she ceased, the entrance door opened again, and the very party
appeared for whom they were waiting. "Lady Dalrymple, Lady Dalrymple,"
was the rejoicing sound; and with all the eagerness compatible with
anxious elegance, Sir Walter and his two ladies stepped forward to meet
her. Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret, escorted by Mr Elliot and
Colonel Wallis, who had happened to arrive nearly at the same instant,
advanced into the room. The others joined them, and it was a group in
which Anne found herself also necessarily included. She was divided
from Captain Wentworth. Their interesting, almost too interesting
conversation must be broken up for a time, but slight was the penance
compared with the happiness which brought it on! She had learnt, in
the last ten minutes, more of his feelings towards Louisa, more of all
his feelings than she dared to think of; and she gave herself up to the
demands of the party, to the needful civilities of the moment, with
exquisite, though agitated sensations. She was in good humour with
all. She had received ideas which disposed her to be courteous and
kind to all, and to pity every one, as being less happy than herself.

The delightful emotions were a little subdued, when on stepping back
from the group, to be joined again by Captain Wentworth, she saw that
he was gone. She was just in time to see him turn into the Concert
Room. He was gone; he had disappeared, she felt a moment's regret.
But "they should meet again. He would look for her, he would find her
out before the evening were over, and at present, perhaps, it was as
well to be asunder. She was in need of a little interval for
recollection. "

Upon Lady Russell's appearance soon afterwards, the whole party was
collected, and all that remained was to marshal themselves, and proceed
into the Concert Room; and be of all the consequence in their power,
draw as many eyes, excite as many whispers, and disturb as many people
as they could.

Very, very happy were both Elizabeth and Anne Elliot as they walked in.
Elizabeth arm in arm with Miss Carteret, and looking on the broad back
of the dowager Viscountess Dalrymple before her, had nothing to wish
for which did not seem within her reach; and Anne--but it would be an
insult to the nature of Anne's felicity, to draw any comparison between
it and her sister's; the origin of one all selfish vanity, of the other
all generous attachment.

Anne saw nothing, thought nothing of the brilliancy of the room. Her
happiness was from within. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks glowed;
but she knew nothing about it. She was thinking only of the last half
hour, and as they passed to their seats, her mind took a hasty range
over it. His choice of subjects, his expressions, and still more his
manner and look, had been such as she could see in only one light. His
opinion of Louisa Musgrove's inferiority, an opinion which he had
seemed solicitous to give, his wonder at Captain Benwick, his feelings
as to a first, strong attachment; sentences begun which he could not
finish, his half averted eyes and more than half expressive glance,
all, all declared that he had a heart returning to her at least; that
anger, resentment, avoidance, were no more; and that they were
succeeded, not merely by friendship and regard, but by the tenderness
of the past. Yes, some share of the tenderness of the past. She could
not contemplate the change as implying less. He must love her.

These were thoughts, with their attendant visions, which occupied and
flurried her too much to leave her any power of observation; and she
passed along the room without having a glimpse of him, without even
trying to discern him. When their places were determined on, and they
were all properly arranged, she looked round to see if he should happen
to be in the same part of the room, but he was not; her eye could not
reach him; and the concert being just opening, she must consent for a
time to be happy in a humbler way.

The party was divided and disposed of on two contiguous benches: Anne
was among those on the foremost, and Mr Elliot had manoeuvred so well,
with the assistance of his friend Colonel Wallis, as to have a seat by
her. Miss Elliot, surrounded by her cousins, and the principal object
of Colonel Wallis's gallantry, was quite contented.

Anne's mind was in a most favourable state for the entertainment of the
evening; it was just occupation enough: she had feelings for the
tender, spirits for the gay, attention for the scientific, and patience
for the wearisome; and had never liked a concert better, at least
during the first act. Towards the close of it, in the interval
succeeding an Italian song, she explained the words of the song to Mr
Elliot. They had a concert bill between them.

"This," said she, "is nearly the sense, or rather the meaning of the
words, for certainly the sense of an Italian love-song must not be
talked of, but it is as nearly the meaning as I can give; for I do not
pretend to understand the language. I am a very poor Italian scholar. "

"Yes, yes, I see you are. I see you know nothing of the matter. You
have only knowledge enough of the language to translate at sight these
inverted, transposed, curtailed Italian lines, into clear,
comprehensible, elegant English. You need not say anything more of
your ignorance. Here is complete proof. "

"I will not oppose such kind politeness; but I should be sorry to be
examined by a real proficient. "

"I have not had the pleasure of visiting in Camden Place so long,"
replied he, "without knowing something of Miss Anne Elliot; and I do
regard her as one who is too modest for the world in general to be
aware of half her accomplishments, and too highly accomplished for
modesty to be natural in any other woman. "

"For shame! for shame! this is too much flattery. I forget what we are
to have next," turning to the bill.

"Perhaps," said Mr Elliot, speaking low, "I have had a longer
acquaintance with your character than you are aware of. "

"Indeed! How so? You can have been acquainted with it only since I
came to Bath, excepting as you might hear me previously spoken of in my
own family. "

"I knew you by report long before you came to Bath. I had heard you
described by those who knew you intimately. I have been acquainted
with you by character many years. Your person, your disposition,
accomplishments, manner; they were all present to me. "

Mr Elliot was not disappointed in the interest he hoped to raise. No
one can withstand the charm of such a mystery. To have been described
long ago to a recent acquaintance, by nameless people, is irresistible;
and Anne was all curiosity. She wondered, and questioned him eagerly;
but in vain. He delighted in being asked, but he would not tell.

"No, no, some time or other, perhaps, but not now. He would mention no
names now; but such, he could assure her, had been the fact. He had
many years ago received such a description of Miss Anne Elliot as had
inspired him with the highest idea of her merit, and excited the
warmest curiosity to know her. "

Anne could think of no one so likely to have spoken with partiality of
her many years ago as the Mr Wentworth of Monkford, Captain Wentworth's
brother. He might have been in Mr Elliot's company, but she had not
courage to ask the question.

"The name of Anne Elliot," said he, "has long had an interesting sound
to me. Very long has it possessed a charm over my fancy; and, if I
dared, I would breathe my wishes that the name might never change. "

Such, she believed, were his words; but scarcely had she received their
sound, than her attention was caught by other sounds immediately behind
her, which rendered every thing else trivial. Her father and Lady
Dalrymple were speaking.

"A well-looking man," said Sir Walter, "a very well-looking man. "

"A very fine young man indeed! " said Lady Dalrymple. "More air than
one often sees in Bath. Irish, I dare say. "

"No, I just know his name. A bowing acquaintance. Wentworth; Captain
Wentworth of the navy. His sister married my tenant in Somersetshire,
the Croft, who rents Kellynch. "

Before Sir Walter had reached this point, Anne's eyes had caught the
right direction, and distinguished Captain Wentworth standing among a
cluster of men at a little distance. As her eyes fell on him, his
seemed to be withdrawn from her. It had that appearance. It seemed as
if she had been one moment too late; and as long as she dared observe,
he did not look again: but the performance was recommencing, and she
was forced to seem to restore her attention to the orchestra and look
straight forward.

When she could give another glance, he had moved away. He could not
have come nearer to her if he would; she was so surrounded and shut in:
but she would rather have caught his eye.

Mr Elliot's speech, too, distressed her. She had no longer any
inclination to talk to him. She wished him not so near her.

The first act was over. Now she hoped for some beneficial change; and,
after a period of nothing-saying amongst the party, some of them did
decide on going in quest of tea. Anne was one of the few who did not
choose to move. She remained in her seat, and so did Lady Russell; but
she had the pleasure of getting rid of Mr Elliot; and she did not mean,
whatever she might feel on Lady Russell's account, to shrink from
conversation with Captain Wentworth, if he gave her the opportunity.
She was persuaded by Lady Russell's countenance that she had seen him.

He did not come however. Anne sometimes fancied she discerned him at a
distance, but he never came. The anxious interval wore away
unproductively. The others returned, the room filled again, benches
were reclaimed and repossessed, and another hour of pleasure or of
penance was to be sat out, another hour of music was to give delight or
the gapes, as real or affected taste for it prevailed. To Anne, it
chiefly wore the prospect of an hour of agitation. She could not quit
that room in peace without seeing Captain Wentworth once more, without
the interchange of one friendly look.

In re-settling themselves there were now many changes, the result of
which was favourable for her. Colonel Wallis declined sitting down
again, and Mr Elliot was invited by Elizabeth and Miss Carteret, in a
manner not to be refused, to sit between them; and by some other
removals, and a little scheming of her own, Anne was enabled to place
herself much nearer the end of the bench than she had been before, much
more within reach of a passer-by. She could not do so, without
comparing herself with Miss Larolles, the inimitable Miss Larolles; but
still she did it, and not with much happier effect; though by what
seemed prosperity in the shape of an early abdication in her next
neighbours, she found herself at the very end of the bench before the
concert closed.

Such was her situation, with a vacant space at hand, when Captain
Wentworth was again in sight. She saw him not far off. He saw her
too; yet he looked grave, and seemed irresolute, and only by very slow
degrees came at last near enough to speak to her. She felt that
something must be the matter. The change was indubitable. The
difference between his present air and what it had been in the Octagon
Room was strikingly great. Why was it? She thought of her father, of
Lady Russell.
Could there have been any unpleasant glances? He began
by speaking of the concert gravely, more like the Captain Wentworth of
Uppercross; owned himself disappointed, had expected singing; and in
short, must confess that he should not be sorry when it was over. Anne
replied, and spoke in defence of the performance so well, and yet in
allowance for his feelings so pleasantly, that his countenance
improved, and he replied again with almost a smile. They talked for a
few minutes more; the improvement held; he even looked down towards the
bench, as if he saw a place on it well worth occupying; when at that
moment a touch on her shoulder obliged Anne to turn round. It came
from Mr Elliot. He begged her pardon, but she must be applied to, to
explain Italian again. Miss Carteret was very anxious to have a
general idea of what was next to be sung. Anne could not refuse; but
never had she sacrificed to politeness with a more suffering spirit.

A few minutes, though as few as possible, were inevitably consumed; and
when her own mistress again, when able to turn and look as she had done
before, she found herself accosted by Captain Wentworth, in a reserved
yet hurried sort of farewell. "He must wish her good night; he was
going; he should get home as fast as he could. "

"Is not this song worth staying for? " said Anne, suddenly struck by an
idea which made her yet more anxious to be encouraging.

"No! " he replied impressively, "there is nothing worth my staying for;"
and he was gone directly.

Jealousy of Mr Elliot! It was the only intelligible motive. Captain
Wentworth jealous of her affection! Could she have believed it a week
ago; three hours ago! For a moment the gratification was exquisite.
But, alas! there were very different thoughts to succeed. How was such
jealousy to be quieted? How was the truth to reach him? How, in all
the peculiar disadvantages of their respective situations, would he
ever learn of her real sentiments? It was misery to think of Mr
Elliot's attentions. Their evil was incalculable.



Chapter 21


Anne recollected with pleasure the next morning her promise of going to
Mrs Smith, meaning that it should engage her from home at the time when
Mr Elliot would be most likely to call; for to avoid Mr Elliot was
almost a first object.

She felt a great deal of good-will towards him. In spite of the
mischief of his attentions, she owed him gratitude and regard, perhaps
compassion. She could not help thinking much of the extraordinary
circumstances attending their acquaintance, of the right which he
seemed to have to interest her, by everything in situation, by his own
sentiments, by his early prepossession. It was altogether very
extraordinary; flattering, but painful. There was much to regret. How
she might have felt had there been no Captain Wentworth in the case,
was not worth enquiry; for there was a Captain Wentworth; and be the
conclusion of the present suspense good or bad, her affection would be
his for ever. Their union, she believed, could not divide her more
from other men, than their final separation.

Prettier musings of high-wrought love and eternal constancy, could
never have passed along the streets of Bath, than Anne was sporting
with from Camden Place to Westgate Buildings. It was almost enough to
spread purification and perfume all the way.

She was sure of a pleasant reception; and her friend seemed this
morning particularly obliged to her for coming, seemed hardly to have
expected her, though it had been an appointment.

An account of the concert was immediately claimed; and Anne's
recollections of the concert were quite happy enough to animate her
features and make her rejoice to talk of it. All that she could tell
she told most gladly, but the all was little for one who had been
there, and unsatisfactory for such an enquirer as Mrs Smith, who had
already heard, through the short cut of a laundress and a waiter,
rather more of the general success and produce of the evening than Anne
could relate, and who now asked in vain for several particulars of the
company. Everybody of any consequence or notoriety in Bath was well
know by name to Mrs Smith.

"The little Durands were there, I conclude," said she, "with their
mouths open to catch the music, like unfledged sparrows ready to be
fed. They never miss a concert. "

"Yes; I did not see them myself, but I heard Mr Elliot say they were in
the room. "

"The Ibbotsons, were they there? and the two new beauties, with the
tall Irish officer, who is talked of for one of them. "

"I do not know. I do not think they were. "

"Old Lady Mary Maclean? I need not ask after her. She never misses, I
know; and you must have seen her. She must have been in your own
circle; for as you went with Lady Dalrymple, you were in the seats of
grandeur, round the orchestra, of course. "

"No, that was what I dreaded. It would have been very unpleasant to me
in every respect. But happily Lady Dalrymple always chooses to be
farther off; and we were exceedingly well placed, that is, for hearing;
I must not say for seeing, because I appear to have seen very little. "

"Oh! you saw enough for your own amusement. I can understand. There
is a sort of domestic enjoyment to be known even in a crowd, and this
you had. You were a large party in yourselves, and you wanted nothing
beyond. "

"But I ought to have looked about me more," said Anne, conscious while
she spoke that there had in fact been no want of looking about, that
the object only had been deficient.

"No, no; you were better employed. You need not tell me that you had a
pleasant evening. I see it in your eye. I perfectly see how the hours
passed: that you had always something agreeable to listen to. In the
intervals of the concert it was conversation. "

Anne half smiled and said, "Do you see that in my eye? "

"Yes, I do. Your countenance perfectly informs me that you were in
company last night with the person whom you think the most agreeable in
the world, the person who interests you at this present time more than
all the rest of the world put together. "

A blush overspread Anne's cheeks. She could say nothing.

"And such being the case," continued Mrs Smith, after a short pause, "I
hope you believe that I do know how to value your kindness in coming to
me this morning. It is really very good of you to come and sit with
me, when you must have so many pleasanter demands upon your time. "

Anne heard nothing of this. She was still in the astonishment and
confusion excited by her friend's penetration, unable to imagine how
any report of Captain Wentworth could have reached her. After another
short silence--

"Pray," said Mrs Smith, "is Mr Elliot aware of your acquaintance with
me? Does he know that I am in Bath? "

"Mr Elliot! " repeated Anne, looking up surprised. A moment's
reflection shewed her the mistake she had been under. She caught it
instantaneously; and recovering her courage with the feeling of safety,
soon added, more composedly, "Are you acquainted with Mr Elliot? "

"I have been a good deal acquainted with him," replied Mrs Smith,
gravely, "but it seems worn out now. It is a great while since we met. "

"I was not at all aware of this. You never mentioned it before. Had I
known it, I would have had the pleasure of talking to him about you. "

"To confess the truth," said Mrs Smith, assuming her usual air of
cheerfulness, "that is exactly the pleasure I want you to have. I want
you to talk about me to Mr Elliot. I want your interest with him. He
can be of essential service to me; and if you would have the goodness,
my dear Miss Elliot, to make it an object to yourself, of course it is
done. "

"I should be extremely happy; I hope you cannot doubt my willingness to
be of even the slightest use to you," replied Anne; "but I suspect that
you are considering me as having a higher claim on Mr Elliot, a greater
right to influence him, than is really the case. I am sure you have,
somehow or other, imbibed such a notion. You must consider me only as
Mr Elliot's relation. If in that light there is anything which you
suppose his cousin might fairly ask of him, I beg you would not
hesitate to employ me. "

Mrs Smith gave her a penetrating glance, and then, smiling, said--

"I have been a little premature, I perceive; I beg your pardon. I
ought to have waited for official information. But now, my dear Miss
Elliot, as an old friend, do give me a hint as to when I may speak.
Next week? To be sure by next week I may be allowed to think it all
settled, and build my own selfish schemes on Mr Elliot's good fortune. "

"No," replied Anne, "nor next week, nor next, nor next. I assure you
that nothing of the sort you are thinking of will be settled any week.
I am not going to marry Mr Elliot. I should like to know why you
imagine I am? "

Mrs Smith looked at her again, looked earnestly, smiled, shook her
head, and exclaimed--

"Now, how I do wish I understood you! How I do wish I knew what you
were at! I have a great idea that you do not design to be cruel, when
the right moment occurs. Till it does come, you know, we women never
mean to have anybody. It is a thing of course among us, that every man
is refused, till he offers. But why should you be cruel? Let me plead
for my--present friend I cannot call him, but for my former friend.
Where can you look for a more suitable match? Where could you expect a
more gentlemanlike, agreeable man? Let me recommend Mr Elliot. I am
sure you hear nothing but good of him from Colonel Wallis; and who can
know him better than Colonel Wallis? "

"My dear Mrs Smith, Mr Elliot's wife has not been dead much above half
a year. He ought not to be supposed to be paying his addresses to any
one. "

"Oh! if these are your only objections," cried Mrs Smith, archly, "Mr
Elliot is safe, and I shall give myself no more trouble about him. Do
not forget me when you are married, that's all. Let him know me to be
a friend of yours, and then he will think little of the trouble
required, which it is very natural for him now, with so many affairs
and engagements of his own, to avoid and get rid of as he can; very
natural, perhaps. Ninety-nine out of a hundred would do the same. Of
course, he cannot be aware of the importance to me. Well, my dear Miss
Elliot, I hope and trust you will be very happy. Mr Elliot has sense
to understand the value of such a woman. Your peace will not be
shipwrecked as mine has been. You are safe in all worldly matters, and
safe in his character. He will not be led astray; he will not be
misled by others to his ruin. "

"No," said Anne, "I can readily believe all that of my cousin. He
seems to have a calm decided temper, not at all open to dangerous
impressions. I consider him with great respect. I have no reason,
from any thing that has fallen within my observation, to do otherwise.
But I have not known him long; and he is not a man, I think, to be
known intimately soon. Will not this manner of speaking of him, Mrs
Smith, convince you that he is nothing to me? Surely this must be calm
enough. And, upon my word, he is nothing to me. Should he ever
propose to me (which I have very little reason to imagine he has any
thought of doing), I shall not accept him. I assure you I shall not.
I assure you, Mr Elliot had not the share which you have been
supposing, in whatever pleasure the concert of last night might afford:
not Mr Elliot; it is not Mr Elliot that--"

She stopped, regretting with a deep blush that she had implied so much;
but less would hardly have been sufficient. Mrs Smith would hardly
have believed so soon in Mr Elliot's failure, but from the perception
of there being a somebody else. As it was, she instantly submitted,
and with all the semblance of seeing nothing beyond; and Anne, eager to
escape farther notice, was impatient to know why Mrs Smith should have
fancied she was to marry Mr Elliot; where she could have received the
idea, or from whom she could have heard it.

"Do tell me how it first came into your head. "

"It first came into my head," replied Mrs Smith, "upon finding how much
you were together, and feeling it to be the most probable thing in the
world to be wished for by everybody belonging to either of you; and you
may depend upon it that all your acquaintance have disposed of you in
the same way. But I never heard it spoken of till two days ago. "

"And has it indeed been spoken of? "

"Did you observe the woman who opened the door to you when you called
yesterday? "

"No. Was not it Mrs Speed, as usual, or the maid? I observed no one
in particular. "

"It was my friend Mrs Rooke; Nurse Rooke; who, by-the-bye, had a great
curiosity to see you, and was delighted to be in the way to let you in.
She came away from Marlborough Buildings only on Sunday; and she it was
who told me you were to marry Mr Elliot. She had had it from Mrs
Wallis herself, which did not seem bad authority. She sat an hour with
me on Monday evening, and gave me the whole history. " "The whole
history," repeated Anne, laughing. "She could not make a very long
history, I think, of one such little article of unfounded news. "

Mrs Smith said nothing.

"But," continued Anne, presently, "though there is no truth in my
having this claim on Mr Elliot, I should be extremely happy to be of
use to you in any way that I could. Shall I mention to him your being
in Bath? Shall I take any message? "

"No, I thank you: no, certainly not. In the warmth of the moment, and
under a mistaken impression, I might, perhaps, have endeavoured to
interest you in some circumstances; but not now. No, I thank you, I
have nothing to trouble you with. "

"I think you spoke of having known Mr Elliot many years? "

"I did. "

"Not before he was married, I suppose? "

"Yes; he was not married when I knew him first. "

"And--were you much acquainted? "

"Intimately. "

"Indeed! Then do tell me what he was at that time of life. I have a
great curiosity to know what Mr Elliot was as a very young man. Was he
at all such as he appears now? "

"I have not seen Mr Elliot these three years," was Mrs Smith's answer,
given so gravely that it was impossible to pursue the subject farther;
and Anne felt that she had gained nothing but an increase of curiosity.
They were both silent: Mrs Smith very thoughtful. At last--

"I beg your pardon, my dear Miss Elliot," she cried, in her natural
tone of cordiality, "I beg your pardon for the short answers I have
been giving you, but I have been uncertain what I ought to do. I have
been doubting and considering as to what I ought to tell you. There
were many things to be taken into the account. One hates to be
officious, to be giving bad impressions, making mischief. Even the
smooth surface of family-union seems worth preserving, though there may
be nothing durable beneath. However, I have determined; I think I am
right; I think you ought to be made acquainted with Mr Elliot's real
character. Though I fully believe that, at present, you have not the
smallest intention of accepting him, there is no saying what may
happen. You might, some time or other, be differently affected towards
him. Hear the truth, therefore, now, while you are unprejudiced. Mr
Elliot is a man without heart or conscience; a designing, wary,
cold-blooded being, who thinks only of himself; whom for his own
interest or ease, would be guilty of any cruelty, or any treachery,
that could be perpetrated without risk of his general character. He
has no feeling for others. Those whom he has been the chief cause of
leading into ruin, he can neglect and desert without the smallest
compunction. He is totally beyond the reach of any sentiment of
justice or compassion. Oh! he is black at heart, hollow and black! "

Anne's astonished air, and exclamation of wonder, made her pause, and
in a calmer manner, she added,

"My expressions startle you. You must allow for an injured, angry
woman. But I will try to command myself. I will not abuse him. I
will only tell you what I have found him. Facts shall speak. He was
the intimate friend of my dear husband, who trusted and loved him, and
thought him as good as himself. The intimacy had been formed before
our marriage. I found them most intimate friends; and I, too, became
excessively pleased with Mr Elliot, and entertained the highest opinion
of him. At nineteen, you know, one does not think very seriously; but
Mr Elliot appeared to me quite as good as others, and much more
agreeable than most others, and we were almost always together. We
were principally in town, living in very good style. He was then the
inferior in circumstances; he was then the poor one; he had chambers in
the Temple, and it was as much as he could do to support the appearance
of a gentleman. He had always a home with us whenever he chose it; he
was always welcome; he was like a brother. My poor Charles, who had
the finest, most generous spirit in the world, would have divided his
last farthing with him; and I know that his purse was open to him; I
know that he often assisted him.