Persuasion
politeness could repose no longer, and the fainter self-threatenings of
the past became in a decided tone, “I must call on Mrs Croft; I really
must call upon her soon. Anne, have you courage to go with me, and pay
a visit in that house? It will be some trial to us both.”
Anne did not shrink from it; on the contrary, she truly felt as she
said, in observing—
“I think you are very likely to suffer the most of the two; your
feelings are less reconciled to the change than mine. By remaining in
the neighbourhood, I am become inured to it.”
She could have said more on the subject; for she had in fact so high an
opinion of the Crofts, and considered her father so very fortunate in
his tenants, felt the parish to be so sure of a good example, and the
poor of the best attention and relief, that however sorry and ashamed
for the necessity of the removal, she could not but in conscience feel
that they were gone who deserved not to stay, and that Kellynch Hall
had passed into better hands than its owners’. These convictions must
unquestionably have their own pain, and severe was its kind; but they
precluded that pain which Lady Russell would suffer in entering the
house again, and returning through the well-known apartments.
In such moments Anne had no power of saying to herself, “These rooms
ought to belong only to us. Oh, how fallen in their destination! How
unworthily occupied! An ancient family to be so driven away! Strangers
filling their place!” No, except when she thought of her mother, and
remembered where she had been used to sit and preside, she had no sigh
of that description to heave.
Mrs Croft always met her with a kindness which gave her the pleasure of
fancying herself a favourite, and on the present occasion, receiving
her in that house, there was particular attention.
The sad accident at Lyme was soon the prevailing topic, and on
comparing their latest accounts of the invalid, it appeared that each
lady dated her intelligence from the same hour of yestermorn; that
Captain Wentworth had been in Kellynch yesterday (the first time since
the accident), had brought Anne the last note, which she had not been
able to trace the exact steps of; had staid a few hours and then
returned again to Lyme, and without any present intention of quitting
it any more. He had enquired after her, she found, particularly; had
expressed his hope of Miss Elliot’s not being the worse for her
exertions, and had spoken of those exertions as great. This was
handsome, and gave her more pleasure than almost anything else could
have done.
As to the sad catastrophe itself, it could be canvassed only in one
style by a couple of steady, sensible women, whose judgements had to
work on ascertained events; and it was perfectly decided that it had
been the consequence of much thoughtlessness and much imprudence; that
its effects were most alarming, and that it was frightful to think, how
long Miss Musgrove’s recovery might yet be doubtful, and how liable she
would still remain to suffer from the concussion hereafter! The Admiral
wound it up summarily by exclaiming—
“Ay, a very bad business indeed. A new sort of way this, for a young
fellow to be making love, by breaking his mistress’s head, is not it,
Miss Elliot? This is breaking a head and giving a plaster, truly!”
Admiral Croft’s manners were not quite of the tone to suit Lady
Russell, but they delighted Anne. His goodness of heart and simplicity
of character were irresistible.
“Now, this must be very bad for you,” said he, suddenly rousing from a
little reverie, “to be coming and finding us here. I had not
recollected it before, I declare, but it must be very bad. But now, do
not stand upon ceremony. Get up and go over all the rooms in the house
if you like it.”
“Another time, Sir, I thank you, not now.”
“Well, whenever it suits you. You can slip in from the shrubbery at any
time; and there you will find we keep our umbrellas hanging up by that
door. A good place is not it? But,” (checking himself), “you will not
think it a good place, for yours were always kept in the butler’s room.
Ay, so it always is, I believe. One man’s ways may be as good as
another’s, but we all like our own best. And so you must judge for
yourself, whether it would be better for you to go about the house or
not.”
Anne, finding she might decline it, did so, very gratefully.
“We have made very few changes either,” continued the Admiral, after
thinking a moment. “Very few. We told you about the laundry-door, at
Uppercross. That has been a very great improvement. The wonder was, how
any family upon earth could bear with the inconvenience of its opening
as it did, so long! You will tell Sir Walter what we have done, and
that Mr Shepherd thinks it the greatest improvement the house ever had.
Indeed, I must do ourselves the justice to say, that the few
alterations we have made have been all very much for the better. My
wife should have the credit of them, however. I have done very little
besides sending away some of the large looking-glasses from my
dressing-room, which was your father’s. A very good man, and very much
the gentleman I am sure: but I should think, Miss Elliot,” (looking
with serious reflection), “I should think he must be rather a dressy
man for his time of life. Such a number of looking-glasses! oh Lord!
there was no getting away from one’s self. So I got Sophy to lend me a
hand, and we soon shifted their quarters; and now I am quite snug, with
my little shaving glass in one corner, and another great thing that I
never go near.”
Anne, amused in spite of herself, was rather distressed for an answer,
and the Admiral, fearing he might not have been civil enough, took up
the subject again, to say—
“The next time you write to your good father, Miss Elliot, pray give
him my compliments and Mrs Croft’s, and say that we are settled here
quite to our liking, and have no fault at all to find with the place.
The breakfast-room chimney smokes a little, I grant you, but it is only
when the wind is due north and blows hard, which may not happen three
times a winter. And take it altogether, now that we have been into most
of the houses hereabouts and can judge, there is not one that we like
better than this. Pray say so, with my compliments. He will be glad to
hear it.”
Lady Russell and Mrs Croft were very well pleased with each other: but
the acquaintance which this visit began was fated not to proceed far at
present; for when it was returned, the Crofts announced themselves to
be going away for a few weeks, to visit their connexions in the north
of the county, and probably might not be at home again before Lady
Russell would be removing to Bath.
So ended all danger to Anne of meeting Captain Wentworth at Kellynch
Hall, or of seeing him in company with her friend. Everything was safe
enough, and she smiled over the many anxious feelings she had wasted on
the subject.
CHAPTER XIV.
Though Charles and Mary had remained at Lyme much longer after Mr and
Mrs Musgrove’s going than Anne conceived they could have been at all
wanted, they were yet the first of the family to be at home again; and
as soon as possible after their return to Uppercross they drove over to
the Lodge. They had left Louisa beginning to sit up; but her head,
though clear, was exceedingly weak, and her nerves susceptible to the
highest extreme of tenderness; and though she might be pronounced to be
altogether doing very well, it was still impossible to say when she
might be able to bear the removal home; and her father and mother, who
must return in time to receive their younger children for the Christmas
holidays, had hardly a hope of being allowed to bring her with them.
They had been all in lodgings together. Mrs Musgrove had got Mrs
Harville’s children away as much as she could, every possible supply
from Uppercross had been furnished, to lighten the inconvenience to the
Harvilles, while the Harvilles had been wanting them to come to dinner
every day; and in short, it seemed to have been only a struggle on each
side as to which should be most disinterested and hospitable.
Mary had had her evils; but upon the whole, as was evident by her
staying so long, she had found more to enjoy than to suffer. Charles
Hayter had been at Lyme oftener than suited her; and when they dined
with the Harvilles there had been only a maid-servant to wait, and at
first Mrs Harville had always given Mrs Musgrove precedence; but then,
she had received so very handsome an apology from her on finding out
whose daughter she was, and there had been so much going on every day,
there had been so many walks between their lodgings and the Harvilles,
and she had got books from the library, and changed them so often, that
the balance had certainly been much in favour of Lyme. She had been
taken to Charmouth too, and she had bathed, and she had gone to church,
and there were a great many more people to look at in the church at
Lyme than at Uppercross; and all this, joined to the sense of being so
very useful, had made really an agreeable fortnight.
Anne enquired after Captain Benwick. Mary’s face was clouded directly.
Charles laughed.
“Oh! Captain Benwick is very well, I believe, but he is a very odd
young man. I do not know what he would be at. We asked him to come home
with us for a day or two: Charles undertook to give him some shooting,
and he seemed quite delighted, and, for my part, I thought it was all
settled; when behold! on Tuesday night, he made a very awkward sort of
excuse; ‘he never shot’ and he had ‘been quite misunderstood,’ and he
had promised this and he had promised that, and the end of it was, I
found, that he did not mean to come. I suppose he was afraid of finding
it dull; but upon my word I should have thought we were lively enough
at the Cottage for such a heart-broken man as Captain Benwick.”
Charles laughed again and said, “Now Mary, you know very well how it
really was. It was all your doing,” (turning to Anne). “He fancied that
if he went with us, he should find you close by: he fancied everybody
to be living in Uppercross; and when he discovered that Lady Russell
lived three miles off, his heart failed him, and he had not courage to
come. That is the fact, upon my honour. Mary knows it is.”
But Mary did not give into it very graciously, whether from not
considering Captain Benwick entitled by birth and situation to be in
love with an Elliot, or from not wanting to believe Anne a greater
attraction to Uppercross than herself, must be left to be guessed.
Anne’s good-will, however, was not to be lessened by what she heard.
She boldly acknowledged herself flattered, and continued her enquiries.
“Oh! he talks of you,” cried Charles, “in such terms—” Mary interrupted
him. “I declare, Charles, I never heard him mention Anne twice all the
time I was there. I declare, Anne, he never talks of you at all.”
“No,” admitted Charles, “I do not know that he ever does, in a general
way; but however, it is a very clear thing that he admires you
exceedingly. His head is full of some books that he is reading upon
your recommendation, and he wants to talk to you about them; he has
found out something or other in one of them which he thinks—oh! I
cannot pretend to remember it, but it was something very fine—I
overheard him telling Henrietta all about it; and then ‘Miss Elliot’
was spoken of in the highest terms! Now Mary, I declare it was so, I
heard it myself, and you were in the other room. ‘Elegance, sweetness,
beauty.’ Oh! there was no end of Miss Elliot’s charms.”
“And I am sure,” cried Mary, warmly, “it was a very little to his
credit, if he did. Miss Harville only died last June. Such a heart is
very little worth having; is it, Lady Russell? I am sure you will agree
with me.”