No More Learning

Such a number of
women and children have no right to be comfortable on board. "

"My dear Frederick, you are talking quite idly. Pray, what would
become of us poor sailors' wives, who often want to be conveyed to one
port or another, after our husbands, if everybody had your feelings? "

"My feelings, you see, did not prevent my taking Mrs Harville and all
her family to Plymouth. "

"But I hate to hear you talking so like a fine gentleman, and as if
women were all fine ladies, instead of rational creatures. We none of
us expect to be in smooth water all our days. "

"Ah! my dear," said the Admiral, "when he had got a wife, he will sing
a different tune. When he is married, if we have the good luck to live
to another war, we shall see him do as you and I, and a great many
others, have done. We shall have him very thankful to anybody that
will bring him his wife. "

"Ay, that we shall. "

"Now I have done," cried Captain Wentworth. "When once married people
begin to attack me with,--'Oh! you will think very differently, when
you are married. ' I can only say, 'No, I shall not;' and then they say
again, 'Yes, you will,' and there is an end of it. "

He got up and moved away.

"What a great traveller you must have been, ma'am! " said Mrs Musgrove
to Mrs Croft.

"Pretty well, ma'am in the fifteen years of my marriage; though many
women have done more. I have crossed the Atlantic four times, and have
been once to the East Indies, and back again, and only once; besides
being in different places about home: Cork, and Lisbon, and Gibraltar.
But I never went beyond the Streights, and never was in the West
Indies. We do not call Bermuda or Bahama, you know, the West Indies. "

Mrs Musgrove had not a word to say in dissent; she could not accuse
herself of having ever called them anything in the whole course of her
life.

"And I do assure you, ma'am," pursued Mrs Croft, "that nothing can
exceed the accommodations of a man-of-war; I speak, you know, of the
higher rates. When you come to a frigate, of course, you are more
confined; though any reasonable woman may be perfectly happy in one of
them; and I can safely say, that the happiest part of my life has been
spent on board a ship. While we were together, you know, there was
nothing to be feared. Thank God! I have always been blessed with
excellent health, and no climate disagrees with me. A little
disordered always the first twenty-four hours of going to sea, but
never knew what sickness was afterwards. The only time I ever really
suffered in body or mind, the only time that I ever fancied myself
unwell, or had any ideas of danger, was the winter that I passed by
myself at Deal, when the Admiral (Captain Croft then) was in the North
Seas. I lived in perpetual fright at that time, and had all manner of
imaginary complaints from not knowing what to do with myself, or when I
should hear from him next; but as long as we could be together, nothing
ever ailed me, and I never met with the smallest inconvenience. "

"Aye, to be sure. Yes, indeed, oh yes! I am quite of your opinion,
Mrs Croft," was Mrs Musgrove's hearty answer. "There is nothing so bad
as a separation. I am quite of your opinion. I know what it is, for
Mr Musgrove always attends the assizes, and I am so glad when they are
over, and he is safe back again. "

The evening ended with dancing. On its being proposed, Anne offered
her services, as usual; and though her eyes would sometimes fill with
tears as she sat at the instrument, she was extremely glad to be
employed, and desired nothing in return but to be unobserved.

It was a merry, joyous party, and no one seemed in higher spirits than
Captain Wentworth. She felt that he had every thing to elevate him
which general attention and deference, and especially the attention of
all the young women, could do. The Miss Hayters, the females of the
family of cousins already mentioned, were apparently admitted to the
honour of being in love with him; and as for Henrietta and Louisa, they
both seemed so entirely occupied by him, that nothing but the continued
appearance of the most perfect good-will between themselves could have
made it credible that they were not decided rivals. If he were a
little spoilt by such universal, such eager admiration, who could
wonder?

These were some of the thoughts which occupied Anne, while her fingers
were mechanically at work, proceeding for half an hour together,
equally without error, and without consciousness. Once she felt that
he was looking at herself, observing her altered features, perhaps,
trying to trace in them the ruins of the face which had once charmed
him; and once she knew that he must have spoken of her; she was hardly
aware of it, till she heard the answer; but then she was sure of his
having asked his partner whether Miss Elliot never danced? The answer
was, "Oh, no; never; she has quite given up dancing. She had rather
play. She is never tired of playing. " Once, too, he spoke to her.
She had left the instrument on the dancing being over, and he had sat
down to try to make out an air which he wished to give the Miss
Musgroves an idea of. Unintentionally she returned to that part of the
room; he saw her, and, instantly rising, said, with studied politeness--

"I beg your pardon, madam, this is your seat;" and though she
immediately drew back with a decided negative, he was not to be induced
to sit down again.

Anne did not wish for more of such looks and speeches. His cold
politeness, his ceremonious grace, were worse than anything.



Chapter 9


Captain Wentworth was come to Kellynch as to a home, to stay as long as
he liked, being as thoroughly the object of the Admiral's fraternal
kindness as of his wife's. He had intended, on first arriving, to
proceed very soon into Shropshire, and visit the brother settled in
that country, but the attractions of Uppercross induced him to put this
off. There was so much of friendliness, and of flattery, and of
everything most bewitching in his reception there; the old were so
hospitable, the young so agreeable, that he could not but resolve to
remain where he was, and take all the charms and perfections of
Edward's wife upon credit a little longer.

It was soon Uppercross with him almost every day. The Musgroves could
hardly be more ready to invite than he to come, particularly in the
morning, when he had no companion at home, for the Admiral and Mrs
Croft were generally out of doors together, interesting themselves in
their new possessions, their grass, and their sheep, and dawdling about
in a way not endurable to a third person, or driving out in a gig,
lately added to their establishment.

Hitherto there had been but one opinion of Captain Wentworth among the
Musgroves and their dependencies. It was unvarying, warm admiration
everywhere; but this intimate footing was not more than established,
when a certain Charles Hayter returned among them, to be a good deal
disturbed by it, and to think Captain Wentworth very much in the way.

Charles Hayter was the eldest of all the cousins, and a very amiable,
pleasing young man, between whom and Henrietta there had been a
considerable appearance of attachment previous to Captain Wentworth's
introduction. He was in orders; and having a curacy in the
neighbourhood, where residence was not required, lived at his father's
house, only two miles from Uppercross. A short absence from home had
left his fair one unguarded by his attentions at this critical period,
and when he came back he had the pain of finding very altered manners,
and of seeing Captain Wentworth.

Mrs Musgrove and Mrs Hayter were sisters. They had each had money, but
their marriages had made a material difference in their degree of
consequence. Mr Hayter had some property of his own, but it was
insignificant compared with Mr Musgrove's; and while the Musgroves were
in the first class of society in the country, the young Hayters would,
from their parents' inferior, retired, and unpolished way of living,
and their own defective education, have been hardly in any class at
all, but for their connexion with Uppercross, this eldest son of course
excepted, who had chosen to be a scholar and a gentleman, and who was
very superior in cultivation and manners to all the rest.

The two families had always been on excellent terms, there being no
pride on one side, and no envy on the other, and only such a
consciousness of superiority in the Miss Musgroves, as made them
pleased to improve their cousins. Charles's attentions to Henrietta
had been observed by her father and mother without any disapprobation.
"It would not be a great match for her; but if Henrietta liked him,"--
and Henrietta did seem to like him.

Henrietta fully thought so herself, before Captain Wentworth came; but
from that time Cousin Charles had been very much forgotten.

Which of the two sisters was preferred by Captain Wentworth was as yet
quite doubtful, as far as Anne's observation reached. Henrietta was
perhaps the prettiest, Louisa had the higher spirits; and she knew not
now, whether the more gentle or the more lively character were most
likely to attract him.

Mr and Mrs Musgrove, either from seeing little, or from an entire
confidence in the discretion of both their daughters, and of all the
young men who came near them, seemed to leave everything to take its
chance. There was not the smallest appearance of solicitude or remark
about them in the Mansion-house; but it was different at the Cottage:
the young couple there were more disposed to speculate and wonder; and
Captain Wentworth had not been above four or five times in the Miss
Musgroves' company, and Charles Hayter had but just reappeared, when
Anne had to listen to the opinions of her brother and sister, as to
which was the one liked best. Charles gave it for Louisa, Mary for
Henrietta, but quite agreeing that to have him marry either could be
extremely delightful.

Charles "had never seen a pleasanter man in his life; and from what he
had once heard Captain Wentworth himself say, was very sure that he had
not made less than twenty thousand pounds by the war. Here was a
fortune at once; besides which, there would be the chance of what might
be done in any future war; and he was sure Captain Wentworth was as
likely a man to distinguish himself as any officer in the navy. Oh! it
would be a capital match for either of his sisters. "

"Upon my word it would," replied Mary. "Dear me! If he should rise to
any very great honours! If he should ever be made a baronet! 'Lady
Wentworth' sounds very well. That would be a noble thing, indeed, for
Henrietta! She would take place of me then, and Henrietta would not
dislike that. Sir Frederick and Lady Wentworth! It would be but a new
creation, however, and I never think much of your new creations. "

It suited Mary best to think Henrietta the one preferred on the very
account of Charles Hayter, whose pretensions she wished to see put an
end to. She looked down very decidedly upon the Hayters, and thought
it would be quite a misfortune to have the existing connection between
the families renewed--very sad for herself and her children.

"You know," said she, "I cannot think him at all a fit match for
Henrietta; and considering the alliances which the Musgroves have made,
she has no right to throw herself away. I do not think any young woman
has a right to make a choice that may be disagreeable and inconvenient
to the principal part of her family, and be giving bad connections to
those who have not been used to them. And, pray, who is Charles
Hayter? Nothing but a country curate. A most improper match for Miss
Musgrove of Uppercross. "

Her husband, however, would not agree with her here; for besides having
a regard for his cousin, Charles Hayter was an eldest son, and he saw
things as an eldest son himself.

"Now you are talking nonsense, Mary," was therefore his answer. "It
would not be a great match for Henrietta, but Charles has a very fair
chance, through the Spicers, of getting something from the Bishop in
the course of a year or two; and you will please to remember, that he
is the eldest son; whenever my uncle dies, he steps into very pretty
property. The estate at Winthrop is not less than two hundred and
fifty acres, besides the farm near Taunton, which is some of the best
land in the country. I grant you, that any of them but Charles would
be a very shocking match for Henrietta, and indeed it could not be; he
is the only one that could be possible; but he is a very good-natured,
good sort of a fellow; and whenever Winthrop comes into his hands, he
will make a different sort of place of it, and live in a very different
sort of way; and with that property, he will never be a contemptible
man--good, freehold property. No, no; Henrietta might do worse than
marry Charles Hayter; and if she has him, and Louisa can get Captain
Wentworth, I shall be very well satisfied. "

"Charles may say what he pleases," cried Mary to Anne, as soon as he
was out of the room, "but it would be shocking to have Henrietta marry
Charles Hayter; a very bad thing for her, and still worse for me; and
therefore it is very much to be wished that Captain Wentworth may soon
put him quite out of her head, and I have very little doubt that he
has. She took hardly any notice of Charles Hayter yesterday. I wish
you had been there to see her behaviour. And as to Captain Wentworth's
liking Louisa as well as Henrietta, it is nonsense to say so; for he
certainly does like Henrietta a great deal the best. But Charles is so
positive! I wish you had been with us yesterday, for then you might
have decided between us; and I am sure you would have thought as I did,
unless you had been determined to give it against me. "

A dinner at Mr Musgrove's had been the occasion when all these things
should have been seen by Anne; but she had staid at home, under the
mixed plea of a headache of her own, and some return of indisposition
in little Charles. She had thought only of avoiding Captain Wentworth;
but an escape from being appealed to as umpire was now added to the
advantages of a quiet evening.

As to Captain Wentworth's views, she deemed it of more consequence that
he should know his own mind early enough not to be endangering the
happiness of either sister, or impeaching his own honour, than that he
should prefer Henrietta to Louisa, or Louisa to Henrietta. Either of
them would, in all probability, make him an affectionate, good-humoured
wife. With regard to Charles Hayter, she had delicacy which must be
pained by any lightness of conduct in a well-meaning young woman, and a
heart to sympathize in any of the sufferings it occasioned; but if
Henrietta found herself mistaken in the nature of her feelings, the
alteration could not be understood too soon.

Charles Hayter had met with much to disquiet and mortify him in his
cousin's behaviour. She had too old a regard for him to be so wholly
estranged as might in two meetings extinguish every past hope, and
leave him nothing to do but to keep away from Uppercross: but there
was such a change as became very alarming, when such a man as Captain
Wentworth was to be regarded as the probable cause. He had been absent
only two Sundays, and when they parted, had left her interested, even
to the height of his wishes, in his prospect of soon quitting his
present curacy, and obtaining that of Uppercross instead. It had then
seemed the object nearest her heart, that Dr Shirley, the rector, who
for more than forty years had been zealously discharging all the duties
of his office, but was now growing too infirm for many of them, should
be quite fixed on engaging a curate; should make his curacy quite as
good as he could afford, and should give Charles Hayter the promise of
it. The advantage of his having to come only to Uppercross, instead of
going six miles another way; of his having, in every respect, a better
curacy; of his belonging to their dear Dr Shirley, and of dear, good Dr
Shirley's being relieved from the duty which he could no longer get
through without most injurious fatigue, had been a great deal, even to
Louisa, but had been almost everything to Henrietta. When he came
back, alas! the zeal of the business was gone by. Louisa could not
listen at all to his account of a conversation which he had just held
with Dr Shirley: she was at a window, looking out for Captain
Wentworth; and even Henrietta had at best only a divided attention to
give, and seemed to have forgotten all the former doubt and solicitude
of the negotiation.

"Well, I am very glad indeed: but I always thought you would have it;
I always thought you sure. It did not appear to me that--in short, you
know, Dr Shirley must have a curate, and you had secured his promise.
Is he coming, Louisa? "

One morning, very soon after the dinner at the Musgroves, at which Anne
had not been present, Captain Wentworth walked into the drawing-room at
the Cottage, where were only herself and the little invalid Charles,
who was lying on the sofa.

The surprise of finding himself almost alone with Anne Elliot, deprived
his manners of their usual composure: he started, and could only say,
"I thought the Miss Musgroves had been here: Mrs Musgrove told me I
should find them here," before he walked to the window to recollect
himself, and feel how he ought to behave.

"They are up stairs with my sister: they will be down in a few
moments, I dare say," had been Anne's reply, in all the confusion that
was natural; and if the child had not called her to come and do
something for him, she would have been out of the room the next moment,
and released Captain Wentworth as well as herself.

He continued at the window; and after calmly and politely saying, "I
hope the little boy is better," was silent.

She was obliged to kneel down by the sofa, and remain there to satisfy
her patient; and thus they continued a few minutes, when, to her very
great satisfaction, she heard some other person crossing the little
vestibule. She hoped, on turning her head, to see the master of the
house; but it proved to be one much less calculated for making matters
easy--Charles Hayter, probably not at all better pleased by the sight
of Captain Wentworth than Captain Wentworth had been by the sight of
Anne.

She only attempted to say, "How do you do? Will you not sit down? The
others will be here presently. "

Captain Wentworth, however, came from his window, apparently not
ill-disposed for conversation; but Charles Hayter soon put an end to
his attempts by seating himself near the table, and taking up the
newspaper; and Captain Wentworth returned to his window.

Another minute brought another addition. The younger boy, a remarkable
stout, forward child, of two years old, having got the door opened for
him by some one without, made his determined appearance among them, and
went straight to the sofa to see what was going on, and put in his
claim to anything good that might be giving away.

There being nothing to eat, he could only have some play; and as his
aunt would not let him tease his sick brother, he began to fasten
himself upon her, as she knelt, in such a way that, busy as she was
about Charles, she could not shake him off. She spoke to him, ordered,
entreated, and insisted in vain. Once she did contrive to push him
away, but the boy had the greater pleasure in getting upon her back
again directly.

"Walter," said she, "get down this moment. You are extremely
troublesome. I am very angry with you. "

"Walter," cried Charles Hayter, "why do you not do as you are bid? Do
not you hear your aunt speak? Come to me, Walter, come to cousin
Charles. "

But not a bit did Walter stir.

In another moment, however, she found herself in the state of being
released from him; some one was taking him from her, though he had bent
down her head so much, that his little sturdy hands were unfastened
from around her neck, and he was resolutely borne away, before she knew
that Captain Wentworth had done it.

Her sensations on the discovery made her perfectly speechless. She
could not even thank him. She could only hang over little Charles,
with most disordered feelings. His kindness in stepping forward to her
relief, the manner, the silence in which it had passed, the little
particulars of the circumstance, with the conviction soon forced on her
by the noise he was studiously making with the child, that he meant to
avoid hearing her thanks, and rather sought to testify that her
conversation was the last of his wants, produced such a confusion of
varying, but very painful agitation, as she could not recover from,
till enabled by the entrance of Mary and the Miss Musgroves to make
over her little patient to their cares, and leave the room. She could
not stay. It might have been an opportunity of watching the loves and
jealousies of the four--they were now altogether; but she could stay
for none of it. It was evident that Charles Hayter was not well
inclined towards Captain Wentworth. She had a strong impression of his
having said, in a vext tone of voice, after Captain Wentworth's
interference, "You ought to have minded me, Walter; I told you not to
teaze your aunt;" and could comprehend his regretting that Captain
Wentworth should do what he ought to have done himself. But neither
Charles Hayter's feelings, nor anybody's feelings, could interest her,
till she had a little better arranged her own. She was ashamed of
herself, quite ashamed of being so nervous, so overcome by such a
trifle; but so it was, and it required a long application of solitude
and reflection to recover her.



Chapter 10


Other opportunities of making her observations could not fail to occur.
Anne had soon been in company with all the four together often enough
to have an opinion, though too wise to acknowledge as much at home,
where she knew it would have satisfied neither husband nor wife; for
while she considered Louisa to be rather the favourite, she could not
but think, as far as she might dare to judge from memory and
experience, that Captain Wentworth was not in love with either. They
were more in love with him; yet there it was not love. It was a little
fever of admiration; but it might, probably must, end in love with
some. Charles Hayter seemed aware of being slighted, and yet Henrietta
had sometimes the air of being divided between them. Anne longed for
the power of representing to them all what they were about, and of
pointing out some of the evils they were exposing themselves to. She
did not attribute guile to any. It was the highest satisfaction to her
to believe Captain Wentworth not in the least aware of the pain he was
occasioning. There was no triumph, no pitiful triumph in his manner.
He had, probably, never heard, and never thought of any claims of
Charles Hayter. He was only wrong in accepting the attentions (for
accepting must be the word) of two young women at once.

After a short struggle, however, Charles Hayter seemed to quit the
field. Three days had passed without his coming once to Uppercross; a
most decided change. He had even refused one regular invitation to
dinner; and having been found on the occasion by Mr Musgrove with some
large books before him, Mr and Mrs Musgrove were sure all could not be
right, and talked, with grave faces, of his studying himself to death.
It was Mary's hope and belief that he had received a positive dismissal
from Henrietta, and her husband lived under the constant dependence of
seeing him to-morrow. Anne could only feel that Charles Hayter was
wise.

One morning, about this time Charles Musgrove and Captain Wentworth
being gone a-shooting together, as the sisters in the Cottage were
sitting quietly at work, they were visited at the window by the sisters
from the Mansion-house.

It was a very fine November day, and the Miss Musgroves came through
the little grounds, and stopped for no other purpose than to say, that
they were going to take a long walk, and therefore concluded Mary could
not like to go with them; and when Mary immediately replied, with some
jealousy at not being supposed a good walker, "Oh, yes, I should like
to join you very much, I am very fond of a long walk;" Anne felt
persuaded, by the looks of the two girls, that it was precisely what
they did not wish, and admired again the sort of necessity which the
family habits seemed to produce, of everything being to be
communicated, and everything being to be done together, however
undesired and inconvenient. She tried to dissuade Mary from going, but
in vain; and that being the case, thought it best to accept the Miss
Musgroves' much more cordial invitation to herself to go likewise, as
she might be useful in turning back with her sister, and lessening the
interference in any plan of their own.

"I cannot imagine why they should suppose I should not like a long
walk," said Mary, as she went up stairs. "Everybody is always
supposing that I am not a good walker; and yet they would not have been
pleased, if we had refused to join them. When people come in this
manner on purpose to ask us, how can one say no? "

Just as they were setting off, the gentlemen returned. They had taken
out a young dog, who had spoilt their sport, and sent them back early.
Their time and strength, and spirits, were, therefore, exactly ready
for this walk, and they entered into it with pleasure. Could Anne have
foreseen such a junction, she would have staid at home; but, from some
feelings of interest and curiosity, she fancied now that it was too
late to retract, and the whole six set forward together in the
direction chosen by the Miss Musgroves, who evidently considered the
walk as under their guidance.

Anne's object was, not to be in the way of anybody; and where the
narrow paths across the fields made many separations necessary, to keep
with her brother and sister. Her pleasure in the walk must arise from
the exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year
upon the tawny leaves, and withered hedges, and from repeating to
herself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of
autumn, that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind
of taste and tenderness, that season which had drawn from every poet,
worthy of being read, some attempt at description, or some lines of
feeling. She occupied her mind as much as possible in such like
musings and quotations; but it was not possible, that when within reach
of Captain Wentworth's conversation with either of the Miss Musgroves,
she should not try to hear it; yet she caught little very remarkable.
It was mere lively chat, such as any young persons, on an intimate
footing, might fall into. He was more engaged with Louisa than with
Henrietta. Louisa certainly put more forward for his notice than her
sister. This distinction appeared to increase, and there was one
speech of Louisa's which struck her. After one of the many praises of
the day, which were continually bursting forth, Captain Wentworth
added:--

"What glorious weather for the Admiral and my sister! They meant to
take a long drive this morning; perhaps we may hail them from some of
these hills. They talked of coming into this side of the country. I
wonder whereabouts they will upset to-day. Oh! it does happen very
often, I assure you; but my sister makes nothing of it; she would as
lieve be tossed out as not. "

"Ah! You make the most of it, I know," cried Louisa, "but if it were
really so, I should do just the same in her place. If I loved a man,
as she loves the Admiral, I would always be with him, nothing should
ever separate us, and I would rather be overturned by him, than driven
safely by anybody else. "

It was spoken with enthusiasm.

"Had you?
" cried he, catching the same tone; "I honour you! " And there
was silence between them for a little while.

Anne could not immediately fall into a quotation again. The sweet
scenes of autumn were for a while put by, unless some tender sonnet,
fraught with the apt analogy of the declining year, with declining
happiness, and the images of youth and hope, and spring, all gone
together, blessed her memory. She roused herself to say, as they
struck by order into another path, "Is not this one of the ways to
Winthrop? " But nobody heard, or, at least, nobody answered her.

Winthrop, however, or its environs--for young men are, sometimes to be
met with, strolling about near home--was their destination; and after
another half mile of gradual ascent through large enclosures, where the
ploughs at work, and the fresh made path spoke the farmer counteracting
the sweets of poetical despondence, and meaning to have spring again,
they gained the summit of the most considerable hill, which parted
Uppercross and Winthrop, and soon commanded a full view of the latter,
at the foot of the hill on the other side.

Winthrop, without beauty and without dignity, was stretched before them;
an indifferent house, standing low, and hemmed in by the barns and
buildings of a farm-yard.

Mary exclaimed, "Bless me! here is Winthrop. I declare I had no idea!
Well now, I think we had better turn back; I am excessively tired. "

Henrietta, conscious and ashamed, and seeing no cousin Charles walking
along any path, or leaning against any gate, was ready to do as Mary
wished; but "No! " said Charles Musgrove, and "No, no! " cried Louisa
more eagerly, and taking her sister aside, seemed to be arguing the
matter warmly.

Charles, in the meanwhile, was very decidedly declaring his resolution
of calling on his aunt, now that he was so near; and very evidently,
though more fearfully, trying to induce his wife to go too. But this
was one of the points on which the lady shewed her strength; and when
he recommended the advantage of resting herself a quarter of an hour at
Winthrop, as she felt so tired, she resolutely answered, "Oh! no,
indeed! walking up that hill again would do her more harm than any
sitting down could do her good;" and, in short, her look and manner
declared, that go she would not.

After a little succession of these sort of debates and consultations,
it was settled between Charles and his two sisters, that he and
Henrietta should just run down for a few minutes, to see their aunt and
cousins, while the rest of the party waited for them at the top of the
hill. Louisa seemed the principal arranger of the plan; and, as she
went a little way with them, down the hill, still talking to Henrietta,
Mary took the opportunity of looking scornfully around her, and saying
to Captain Wentworth--

"It is very unpleasant, having such connexions! But, I assure you, I
have never been in the house above twice in my life. "

She received no other answer, than an artificial, assenting smile,
followed by a contemptuous glance, as he turned away, which Anne
perfectly knew the meaning of.

The brow of the hill, where they remained, was a cheerful spot: Louisa
returned; and Mary, finding a comfortable seat for herself on the step
of a stile, was very well satisfied so long as the others all stood
about her; but when Louisa drew Captain Wentworth away, to try for a
gleaning of nuts in an adjoining hedge-row, and they were gone by
degrees quite out of sight and sound, Mary was happy no longer; she
quarrelled with her own seat, was sure Louisa had got a much better
somewhere, and nothing could prevent her from going to look for a
better also. She turned through the same gate, but could not see them.
Anne found a nice seat for her, on a dry sunny bank, under the
hedge-row, in which she had no doubt of their still being, in some spot
or other. Mary sat down for a moment, but it would not do; she was
sure Louisa had found a better seat somewhere else, and she would go on
till she overtook her.

Anne, really tired herself, was glad to sit down; and she very soon
heard Captain Wentworth and Louisa in the hedge-row, behind her, as if
making their way back along the rough, wild sort of channel, down the
centre. They were speaking as they drew near. Louisa's voice was the
first distinguished. She seemed to be in the middle of some eager
speech. What Anne first heard was--

"And so, I made her go. I could not bear that she should be frightened
from the visit by such nonsense. What! would I be turned back from
doing a thing that I had determined to do, and that I knew to be right,
by the airs and interference of such a person, or of any person I may
say? No, I have no idea of being so easily persuaded. When I have
made up my mind, I have made it; and Henrietta seemed entirely to have
made up hers to call at Winthrop to-day; and yet, she was as near
giving it up, out of nonsensical complaisance! "

"She would have turned back then, but for you? "

"She would indeed. I am almost ashamed to say it. "

"Happy for her, to have such a mind as yours at hand! After the hints
you gave just now, which did but confirm my own observations, the last
time I was in company with him, I need not affect to have no
comprehension of what is going on. I see that more than a mere dutiful
morning visit to your aunt was in question; and woe betide him, and her
too, when it comes to things of consequence, when they are placed in
circumstances requiring fortitude and strength of mind, if she have not
resolution enough to resist idle interference in such a trifle as this.
Your sister is an amiable creature; but yours is the character of
decision and firmness, I see. If you value her conduct or happiness,
infuse as much of your own spirit into her as you can. But this, no
doubt, you have been always doing. It is the worst evil of too
yielding and indecisive a character, that no influence over it can be
depended on. You are never sure of a good impression being durable;
everybody may sway it. Let those who would be happy be firm. Here is
a nut," said he, catching one down from an upper bough, "to exemplify:
a beautiful glossy nut, which, blessed with original strength, has
outlived all the storms of autumn. Not a puncture, not a weak spot
anywhere. This nut," he continued, with playful solemnity, "while so
many of his brethren have fallen and been trodden under foot, is still
in possession of all the happiness that a hazel nut can be supposed
capable of. " Then returning to his former earnest tone--"My first
wish for all whom I am interested in, is that they should be firm. If
Louisa Musgrove would be beautiful and happy in her November of life,
she will cherish all her present powers of mind. "

He had done, and was unanswered. It would have surprised Anne if
Louisa could have readily answered such a speech: words of such
interest, spoken with such serious warmth! She could imagine what
Louisa was feeling. For herself, she feared to move, lest she should
be seen. While she remained, a bush of low rambling holly protected
her, and they were moving on. Before they were beyond her hearing,
however, Louisa spoke again.

"Mary is good-natured enough in many respects," said she; "but she does
sometimes provoke me excessively, by her nonsense and pride--the Elliot
pride. She has a great deal too much of the Elliot pride. We do so
wish that Charles had married Anne instead. I suppose you know he
wanted to marry Anne? "

After a moment's pause, Captain Wentworth said--

"Do you mean that she refused him? "

"Oh! yes; certainly. "

"When did that happen? "

"I do not exactly know, for Henrietta and I were at school at the time;
but I believe about a year before he married Mary. I wish she had
accepted him. We should all have liked her a great deal better; and
papa and mamma always think it was her great friend Lady Russell's
doing, that she did not. They think Charles might not be learned and
bookish enough to please Lady Russell, and that therefore, she
persuaded Anne to refuse him. "

The sounds were retreating, and Anne distinguished no more. Her own
emotions still kept her fixed. She had much to recover from, before
she could move. The listener's proverbial fate was not absolutely
hers; she had heard no evil of herself, but she had heard a great deal
of very painful import. She saw how her own character was considered
by Captain Wentworth, and there had been just that degree of feeling
and curiosity about her in his manner which must give her extreme
agitation.

As soon as she could, she went after Mary, and having found, and walked
back with her to their former station, by the stile, felt some comfort
in their whole party being immediately afterwards collected, and once
more in motion together. Her spirits wanted the solitude and silence
which only numbers could give.

Charles and Henrietta returned, bringing, as may be conjectured,
Charles Hayter with them. The minutiae of the business Anne could not
attempt to understand; even Captain Wentworth did not seem admitted to
perfect confidence here; but that there had been a withdrawing on the
gentleman's side, and a relenting on the lady's, and that they were now
very glad to be together again, did not admit a doubt. Henrietta
looked a little ashamed, but very well pleased;--Charles Hayter
exceedingly happy: and they were devoted to each other almost from the
first instant of their all setting forward for Uppercross.

Everything now marked out Louisa for Captain Wentworth; nothing could
be plainer; and where many divisions were necessary, or even where they
were not, they walked side by side nearly as much as the other two. In
a long strip of meadow land, where there was ample space for all, they
were thus divided, forming three distinct parties; and to that party of
the three which boasted least animation, and least complaisance, Anne
necessarily belonged. She joined Charles and Mary, and was tired
enough to be very glad of Charles's other arm; but Charles, though in
very good humour with her, was out of temper with his wife. Mary had
shewn herself disobliging to him, and was now to reap the consequence,
which consequence was his dropping her arm almost every moment to cut
off the heads of some nettles in the hedge with his switch; and when
Mary began to complain of it, and lament her being ill-used, according
to custom, in being on the hedge side, while Anne was never incommoded
on the other, he dropped the arms of both to hunt after a weasel which
he had a momentary glance of, and they could hardly get him along at
all.

This long meadow bordered a lane, which their footpath, at the end of
it was to cross, and when the party had all reached the gate of exit,
the carriage advancing in the same direction, which had been some time
heard, was just coming up, and proved to be Admiral Croft's gig. He
and his wife had taken their intended drive, and were returning home.
Upon hearing how long a walk the young people had engaged in, they
kindly offered a seat to any lady who might be particularly tired; it
would save her a full mile, and they were going through Uppercross.
The invitation was general, and generally declined. The Miss Musgroves
were not at all tired, and Mary was either offended, by not being asked
before any of the others, or what Louisa called the Elliot pride could
not endure to make a third in a one horse chaise.

The walking party had crossed the lane, and were surmounting an
opposite stile, and the Admiral was putting his horse in motion again,
when Captain Wentworth cleared the hedge in a moment to say something
to his sister. The something might be guessed by its effects.

"Miss Elliot, I am sure you are tired," cried Mrs Croft. "Do let us
have the pleasure of taking you home. Here is excellent room for
three, I assure you. If we were all like you, I believe we might sit
four. You must, indeed, you must. "

Anne was still in the lane; and though instinctively beginning to
decline, she was not allowed to proceed. The Admiral's kind urgency
came in support of his wife's; they would not be refused; they
compressed themselves into the smallest possible space to leave her a
corner, and Captain Wentworth, without saying a word, turned to her,
and quietly obliged her to be assisted into the carriage.

Yes; he had done it. She was in the carriage, and felt that he had
placed her there, that his will and his hands had done it, that she
owed it to his perception of her fatigue, and his resolution to give
her rest. She was very much affected by the view of his disposition
towards her, which all these things made apparent. This little
circumstance seemed the completion of all that had gone before. She
understood him. He could not forgive her, but he could not be
unfeeling. Though condemning her for the past, and considering it with
high and unjust resentment, though perfectly careless of her, and
though becoming attached to another, still he could not see her suffer,
without the desire of giving her relief. It was a remainder of former
sentiment; it was an impulse of pure, though unacknowledged friendship;
it was a proof of his own warm and amiable heart, which she could not
contemplate without emotions so compounded of pleasure and pain, that
she knew not which prevailed.

Her answers to the kindness and the remarks of her companions were at
first unconsciously given. They had travelled half their way along the
rough lane, before she was quite awake to what they said. She then
found them talking of "Frederick. "

"He certainly means to have one or other of those two girls, Sophy,"
said the Admiral; "but there is no saying which. He has been running
after them, too, long enough, one would think, to make up his mind.
Ay, this comes of the peace. If it were war now, he would have settled
it long ago. We sailors, Miss Elliot, cannot afford to make long
courtships in time of war. How many days was it, my dear, between the
first time of my seeing you and our sitting down together in our
lodgings at North Yarmouth? "

"We had better not talk about it, my dear," replied Mrs Croft,
pleasantly; "for if Miss Elliot were to hear how soon we came to an
understanding, she would never be persuaded that we could be happy
together. I had known you by character, however, long before. "

"Well, and I had heard of you as a very pretty girl, and what were we
to wait for besides? I do not like having such things so long in hand.
I wish Frederick would spread a little more canvass, and bring us home
one of these young ladies to Kellynch. Then there would always be
company for them. And very nice young ladies they both are; I hardly
know one from the other. "

"Very good humoured, unaffected girls, indeed," said Mrs Croft, in a
tone of calmer praise, such as made Anne suspect that her keener powers
might not consider either of them as quite worthy of her brother; "and
a very respectable family. One could not be connected with better
people. My dear Admiral, that post! we shall certainly take that
post. "

But by coolly giving the reins a better direction herself they happily
passed the danger; and by once afterwards judiciously putting out her
hand they neither fell into a rut, nor ran foul of a dung-cart; and
Anne, with some amusement at their style of driving, which she imagined
no bad representation of the general guidance of their affairs, found
herself safely deposited by them at the Cottage.



Chapter 11


The time now approached for Lady Russell's return: the day was even
fixed; and Anne, being engaged to join her as soon as she was
resettled, was looking forward to an early removal to Kellynch, and
beginning to think how her own comfort was likely to be affected by it.

It would place her in the same village with Captain Wentworth, within
half a mile of him; they would have to frequent the same church, and
there must be intercourse between the two families. This was against
her; but on the other hand, he spent so much of his time at Uppercross,
that in removing thence she might be considered rather as leaving him
behind, than as going towards him; and, upon the whole, she believed
she must, on this interesting question, be the gainer, almost as
certainly as in her change of domestic society, in leaving poor Mary
for Lady Russell.

She wished it might be possible for her to avoid ever seeing Captain
Wentworth at the Hall: those rooms had witnessed former meetings which
would be brought too painfully before her; but she was yet more anxious
for the possibility of Lady Russell and Captain Wentworth never meeting
anywhere. They did not like each other, and no renewal of acquaintance
now could do any good; and were Lady Russell to see them together, she
might think that he had too much self-possession, and she too little.

These points formed her chief solicitude in anticipating her removal
from Uppercross, where she felt she had been stationed quite long
enough. Her usefulness to little Charles would always give some
sweetness to the memory of her two months' visit there, but he was
gaining strength apace, and she had nothing else to stay for.

The conclusion of her visit, however, was diversified in a way which
she had not at all imagined. Captain Wentworth, after being unseen and
unheard of at Uppercross for two whole days, appeared again among them
to justify himself by a relation of what had kept him away.

A letter from his friend, Captain Harville, having found him out at
last, had brought intelligence of Captain Harville's being settled with
his family at Lyme for the winter; of their being therefore, quite
unknowingly, within twenty miles of each other. Captain Harville had
never been in good health since a severe wound which he received two
years before, and Captain Wentworth's anxiety to see him had determined
him to go immediately to Lyme. He had been there for four-and-twenty
hours. His acquittal was complete, his friendship warmly honoured, a
lively interest excited for his friend, and his description of the fine
country about Lyme so feelingly attended to by the party, that an
earnest desire to see Lyme themselves, and a project for going thither
was the consequence.

The young people were all wild to see Lyme. Captain Wentworth talked
of going there again himself, it was only seventeen miles from
Uppercross; though November, the weather was by no means bad; and, in
short, Louisa, who was the most eager of the eager, having formed the
resolution to go, and besides the pleasure of doing as she liked, being
now armed with the idea of merit in maintaining her own way, bore down
all the wishes of her father and mother for putting it off till summer;
and to Lyme they were to go--Charles, Mary, Anne, Henrietta, Louisa,
and Captain Wentworth.

The first heedless scheme had been to go in the morning and return at
night; but to this Mr Musgrove, for the sake of his horses, would not
consent; and when it came to be rationally considered, a day in the
middle of November would not leave much time for seeing a new place,
after deducting seven hours, as the nature of the country required, for
going and returning. They were, consequently, to stay the night there,
and not to be expected back till the next day's dinner. This was felt
to be a considerable amendment; and though they all met at the Great
House at rather an early breakfast hour, and set off very punctually,
it was so much past noon before the two carriages, Mr Musgrove's coach
containing the four ladies, and Charles's curricle, in which he drove
Captain Wentworth, were descending the long hill into Lyme, and
entering upon the still steeper street of the town itself, that it was
very evident they would not have more than time for looking about them,
before the light and warmth of the day were gone.

After securing accommodations, and ordering a dinner at one of the
inns, the next thing to be done was unquestionably to walk directly
down to the sea. They were come too late in the year for any amusement
or variety which Lyme, as a public place, might offer. The rooms were
shut up, the lodgers almost all gone, scarcely any family but of the
residents left; and, as there is nothing to admire in the buildings
themselves, the remarkable situation of the town, the principal street
almost hurrying into the water, the walk to the Cobb, skirting round
the pleasant little bay, which, in the season, is animated with bathing
machines and company; the Cobb itself, its old wonders and new
improvements, with the very beautiful line of cliffs stretching out to
the east of the town, are what the stranger's eye will seek; and a very
strange stranger it must be, who does not see charms in the immediate
environs of Lyme, to make him wish to know it better. The scenes in
its neighbourhood, Charmouth, with its high grounds and extensive
sweeps of country, and still more, its sweet, retired bay, backed by
dark cliffs, where fragments of low rock among the sands, make it the
happiest spot for watching the flow of the tide, for sitting in
unwearied contemplation; the woody varieties of the cheerful village of
Up Lyme; and, above all, Pinny, with its green chasms between romantic
rocks, where the scattered forest trees and orchards of luxuriant
growth, declare that many a generation must have passed away since the
first partial falling of the cliff prepared the ground for such a
state, where a scene so wonderful and so lovely is exhibited, as may
more than equal any of the resembling scenes of the far-famed Isle of
Wight: these places must be visited, and visited again, to make the
worth of Lyme understood.

The party from Uppercross passing down by the now deserted and
melancholy looking rooms, and still descending, soon found themselves
on the sea-shore; and lingering only, as all must linger and gaze on a
first return to the sea, who ever deserved to look on it at all,
proceeded towards the Cobb, equally their object in itself and on
Captain Wentworth's account: for in a small house, near the foot of an
old pier of unknown date, were the Harvilles settled. Captain
Wentworth turned in to call on his friend; the others walked on, and he
was to join them on the Cobb.

They were by no means tired of wondering and admiring; and not even
Louisa seemed to feel that they had parted with Captain Wentworth long,
when they saw him coming after them, with three companions, all well
known already, by description, to be Captain and Mrs Harville, and a
Captain Benwick, who was staying with them.

Captain Benwick had some time ago been first lieutenant of the Laconia;
and the account which Captain Wentworth had given of him, on his return
from Lyme before, his warm praise of him as an excellent young man and
an officer, whom he had always valued highly, which must have stamped
him well in the esteem of every listener, had been followed by a little
history of his private life, which rendered him perfectly interesting
in the eyes of all the ladies. He had been engaged to Captain
Harville's sister, and was now mourning her loss. They had been a year
or two waiting for fortune and promotion. Fortune came, his
prize-money as lieutenant being great; promotion, too, came at last;
but Fanny Harville did not live to know it. She had died the preceding
summer while he was at sea. Captain Wentworth believed it impossible
for man to be more attached to woman than poor Benwick had been to
Fanny Harville, or to be more deeply afflicted under the dreadful
change. He considered his disposition as of the sort which must suffer
heavily, uniting very strong feelings with quiet, serious, and retiring
manners, and a decided taste for reading, and sedentary pursuits. To
finish the interest of the story, the friendship between him and the
Harvilles seemed, if possible, augmented by the event which closed all
their views of alliance, and Captain Benwick was now living with them
entirely. Captain Harville had taken his present house for half a
year; his taste, and his health, and his fortune, all directing him to
a residence inexpensive, and by the sea; and the grandeur of the
country, and the retirement of Lyme in the winter, appeared exactly
adapted to Captain Benwick's state of mind. The sympathy and good-will
excited towards Captain Benwick was very great.

"And yet," said Anne to herself, as they now moved forward to meet the
party, "he has not, perhaps, a more sorrowing heart than I have. I
cannot believe his prospects so blighted for ever. He is younger than
I am; younger in feeling, if not in fact; younger as a man. He will
rally again, and be happy with another. "

They all met, and were introduced. Captain Harville was a tall, dark
man, with a sensible, benevolent countenance; a little lame; and from
strong features and want of health, looking much older than Captain
Wentworth. Captain Benwick looked, and was, the youngest of the three,
and, compared with either of them, a little man. He had a pleasing
face and a melancholy air, just as he ought to have, and drew back from
conversation.

Captain Harville, though not equalling Captain Wentworth in manners,
was a perfect gentleman, unaffected, warm, and obliging. Mrs Harville,
a degree less polished than her husband, seemed, however, to have the
same good feelings; and nothing could be more pleasant than their
desire of considering the whole party as friends of their own, because
the friends of Captain Wentworth, or more kindly hospitable than their
entreaties for their all promising to dine with them. The dinner,
already ordered at the inn, was at last, though unwillingly, accepted
as a excuse; but they seemed almost hurt that Captain Wentworth should
have brought any such party to Lyme, without considering it as a thing
of course that they should dine with them.

There was so much attachment to Captain Wentworth in all this, and such
a bewitching charm in a degree of hospitality so uncommon, so unlike
the usual style of give-and-take invitations, and dinners of formality
and display, that Anne felt her spirits not likely to be benefited by
an increasing acquaintance among his brother-officers. "These would
have been all my friends," was her thought; and she had to struggle
against a great tendency to lowness.

On quitting the Cobb, they all went in-doors with their new friends,
and found rooms so small as none but those who invite from the heart
could think capable of accommodating so many. Anne had a moment's
astonishment on the subject herself; but it was soon lost in the
pleasanter feelings which sprang from the sight of all the ingenious
contrivances and nice arrangements of Captain Harville, to turn the
actual space to the best account, to supply the deficiencies of
lodging-house furniture, and defend the windows and doors against the
winter storms to be expected. The varieties in the fitting-up of the
rooms, where the common necessaries provided by the owner, in the
common indifferent plight, were contrasted with some few articles of a
rare species of wood, excellently worked up, and with something curious
and valuable from all the distant countries Captain Harville had
visited, were more than amusing to Anne; connected as it all was with
his profession, the fruit of its labours, the effect of its influence
on his habits, the picture of repose and domestic happiness it
presented, made it to her a something more, or less, than gratification.

Captain Harville was no reader; but he had contrived excellent
accommodations, and fashioned very pretty shelves, for a tolerable
collection of well-bound volumes, the property of Captain Benwick. His
lameness prevented him from taking much exercise; but a mind of
usefulness and ingenuity seemed to furnish him with constant employment
within. He drew, he varnished, he carpentered, he glued; he made toys
for the children; he fashioned new netting-needles and pins with
improvements; and if everything else was done, sat down to his large
fishing-net at one corner of the room.

Anne thought she left great happiness behind her when they quitted the
house; and Louisa, by whom she found herself walking, burst forth into
raptures of admiration and delight on the character of the navy; their
friendliness, their brotherliness, their openness, their uprightness;
protesting that she was convinced of sailors having more worth and
warmth than any other set of men in England; that they only knew how to
live, and they only deserved to be respected and loved.

They went back to dress and dine; and so well had the scheme answered
already, that nothing was found amiss; though its being "so entirely
out of season," and the "no thoroughfare of Lyme," and the "no
expectation of company," had brought many apologies from the heads of
the inn.

Anne found herself by this time growing so much more hardened to being
in Captain Wentworth's company than she had at first imagined could
ever be, that the sitting down to the same table with him now, and the
interchange of the common civilities attending on it (they never got
beyond), was become a mere nothing.

The nights were too dark for the ladies to meet again till the morrow,
but Captain Harville had promised them a visit in the evening; and he
came, bringing his friend also, which was more than had been expected,
it having been agreed that Captain Benwick had all the appearance of
being oppressed by the presence of so many strangers. He ventured
among them again, however, though his spirits certainly did not seem
fit for the mirth of the party in general.

While Captains Wentworth and Harville led the talk on one side of the
room, and by recurring to former days, supplied anecdotes in abundance
to occupy and entertain the others, it fell to Anne's lot to be placed
rather apart with Captain Benwick; and a very good impulse of her
nature obliged her to begin an acquaintance with him. He was shy, and
disposed to abstraction; but the engaging mildness of her countenance,
and gentleness of her manners, soon had their effect; and Anne was well
repaid the first trouble of exertion. He was evidently a young man of
considerable taste in reading, though principally in poetry; and
besides the persuasion of having given him at least an evening's
indulgence in the discussion of subjects, which his usual companions
had probably no concern in, she had the hope of being of real use to
him in some suggestions as to the duty and benefit of struggling
against affliction, which had naturally grown out of their
conversation. For, though shy, he did not seem reserved; it had rather
the appearance of feelings glad to burst their usual restraints; and
having talked of poetry, the richness of the present age, and gone
through a brief comparison of opinion as to the first-rate poets,
trying to ascertain whether Marmion or The Lady of the Lake were to be
preferred, and how ranked the Giaour and The Bride of Abydos; and
moreover, how the Giaour was to be pronounced, he showed himself so
intimately acquainted with all the tenderest songs of the one poet, and
all the impassioned descriptions of hopeless agony of the other; he
repeated, with such tremulous feeling, the various lines which imaged a
broken heart, or a mind destroyed by wretchedness, and looked so
entirely as if he meant to be understood, that she ventured to hope he
did not always read only poetry, and to say, that she thought it was
the misfortune of poetry to be seldom safely enjoyed by those who
enjoyed it completely; and that the strong feelings which alone could
estimate it truly were the very feelings which ought to taste it but
sparingly.

His looks shewing him not pained, but pleased with this allusion to his
situation, she was emboldened to go on; and feeling in herself the
right of seniority of mind, she ventured to recommend a larger
allowance of prose in his daily study; and on being requested to
particularize, mentioned such works of our best moralists, such
collections of the finest letters, such memoirs of characters of worth
and suffering, as occurred to her at the moment as calculated to rouse
and fortify the mind by the highest precepts, and the strongest
examples of moral and religious endurances.

Captain Benwick listened attentively, and seemed grateful for the
interest implied; and though with a shake of the head, and sighs which
declared his little faith in the efficacy of any books on grief like
his, noted down the names of those she recommended, and promised to
procure and read them.

When the evening was over, Anne could not but be amused at the idea of
her coming to Lyme to preach patience and resignation to a young man
whom she had never seen before; nor could she help fearing, on more
serious reflection, that, like many other great moralists and
preachers, she had been eloquent on a point in which her own conduct
would ill bear examination.



Chapter 12


Anne and Henrietta, finding themselves the earliest of the party the
next morning, agreed to stroll down to the sea before breakfast. They
went to the sands, to watch the flowing of the tide, which a fine
south-easterly breeze was bringing in with all the grandeur which so
flat a shore admitted. They praised the morning; gloried in the sea;
sympathized in the delight of the fresh-feeling breeze--and were
silent; till Henrietta suddenly began again with--

"Oh! yes,--I am quite convinced that, with very few exceptions, the
sea-air always does good. There can be no doubt of its having been of
the greatest service to Dr Shirley, after his illness, last spring
twelve-month. He declares himself, that coming to Lyme for a month,
did him more good than all the medicine he took; and, that being by the
sea, always makes him feel young again.