Persuasion
talking of, as they walked along in happy independence, or equally
delighted to see the Admiral’s hearty shake of the hand when he
encountered an old friend, and observe their eagerness of conversation
when occasionally forming into a little knot of the navy, Mrs Croft
looking as intelligent and keen as any of the officers around her.
Anne was too much engaged with Lady Russell to be often walking
herself; but it so happened that one morning, about a week or ten days
after the Croft’s arrival, it suited her best to leave her friend, or
her friend’s carriage, in the lower part of the town, and return alone
to Camden Place, and in walking up Milsom Street she had the good
fortune to meet with the Admiral. He was standing by himself at a
printshop window, with his hands behind him, in earnest contemplation
of some print, and she not only might have passed him unseen, but was
obliged to touch as well as address him before she could catch his
notice. When he did perceive and acknowledge her, however, it was done
with all his usual frankness and good humour. “Ha! is it you? Thank
you, thank you. This is treating me like a friend. Here I am, you see,
staring at a picture. I can never get by this shop without stopping.
But what a thing here is, by way of a boat! Do look at it. Did you ever
see the like? What queer fellows your fine painters must be, to think
that anybody would venture their lives in such a shapeless old
cockleshell as that? And yet here are two gentlemen stuck up in it
mightily at their ease, and looking about them at the rocks and
mountains, as if they were not to be upset the next moment, which they
certainly must be. I wonder where that boat was built!” (laughing
heartily); “I would not venture over a horsepond in it. Well,” (turning
away), “now, where are you bound? Can I go anywhere for you, or with
you? Can I be of any use?”
“None, I thank you, unless you will give me the pleasure of your
company the little way our road lies together. I am going home.”
“That I will, with all my heart, and farther, too. Yes, yes we will
have a snug walk together, and I have something to tell you as we go
along. There, take my arm; that’s right; I do not feel comfortable if I
have not a woman there. Lord! what a boat it is!” taking a last look at
the picture, as they began to be in motion.
“Did you say that you had something to tell me, sir?”
“Yes, I have, presently. But here comes a friend, Captain Brigden; I
shall only say, ‘How d’ye do?’ as we pass, however. I shall not stop.
‘How d’ye do?’ Brigden stares to see anybody with me but my wife. She,
poor soul, is tied by the leg. She has a blister on one of her heels,
as large as a three-shilling piece. If you look across the street, you
will see Admiral Brand coming down and his brother. Shabby fellows,
both of them! I am glad they are not on this side of the way. Sophy
cannot bear them. They played me a pitiful trick once: got away with
some of my best men. I will tell you the whole story another time.
There comes old Sir Archibald Drew and his grandson. Look, he sees us;
he kisses his hand to you; he takes you for my wife. Ah! the peace has
come too soon for that younker. Poor old Sir Archibald! How do you like
Bath, Miss Elliot? It suits us very well. We are always meeting with
some old friend or other; the streets full of them every morning; sure
to have plenty of chat; and then we get away from them all, and shut
ourselves in our lodgings, and draw in our chairs, and are as snug as
if we were at Kellynch, ay, or as we used to be even at North Yarmouth
and Deal. We do not like our lodgings here the worse, I can tell you,
for putting us in mind of those we first had at North Yarmouth. The
wind blows through one of the cupboards just in the same way.”
When they were got a little farther, Anne ventured to press again for
what he had to communicate. She hoped when clear of Milsom Street to
have her curiosity gratified; but she was still obliged to wait, for
the Admiral had made up his mind not to begin till they had gained the
greater space and quiet of Belmont; and as she was not really Mrs
Croft, she must let him have his own way. As soon as they were fairly
ascending Belmont, he began—
“Well, now you shall hear something that will surprise you. But first
of all, you must tell me the name of the young lady I am going to talk
about. That young lady, you know, that we have all been so concerned
for. The Miss Musgrove, that all this has been happening to. Her
Christian name: I always forget her Christian name.”
Anne had been ashamed to appear to comprehend so soon as she really
did; but now she could safely suggest the name of “Louisa.”
“Ay, ay, Miss Louisa Musgrove, that is the name. I wish young ladies
had not such a number of fine Christian names. I should never be out if
they were all Sophys, or something of that sort. Well, this Miss
Louisa, we all thought, you know, was to marry Frederick. He was
courting her week after week. The only wonder was, what they could be
waiting for, till the business at Lyme came; then, indeed, it was clear
enough that they must wait till her brain was set to right. But even
then there was something odd in their way of going on. Instead of
staying at Lyme, he went off to Plymouth, and then he went off to see
Edward. When we came back from Minehead he was gone down to Edward’s,
and there he has been ever since. We have seen nothing of him since
November. Even Sophy could not understand it. But now, the matter has
taken the strangest turn of all; for this young lady, the same Miss
Musgrove, instead of being to marry Frederick, is to marry James
Benwick. You know James Benwick.”
“A little. I am a little acquainted with Captain Benwick.”
“Well, she is to marry him. Nay, most likely they are married already,
for I do not know what they should wait for.”
“I thought Captain Benwick a very pleasing young man,” said Anne, “and
I understand that he bears an excellent character.”
“Oh! yes, yes, there is not a word to be said against James Benwick. He
is only a commander, it is true, made last summer, and these are bad
times for getting on, but he has not another fault that I know of. An
excellent, good-hearted fellow, I assure you; a very active, zealous
officer too, which is more than you would think for, perhaps, for that
soft sort of manner does not do him justice.”
“Indeed you are mistaken there, sir; I should never augur want of
spirit from Captain Benwick’s manners. I thought them particularly
pleasing, and I will answer for it, they would generally please.”
“Well, well, ladies are the best judges; but James Benwick is rather
too piano for me; and though very likely it is all our partiality,
Sophy and I cannot help thinking Frederick’s manners better than his.
There is something about Frederick more to our taste.”
Anne was caught. She had only meant to oppose the too common idea of
spirit and gentleness being incompatible with each other, not at all to
represent Captain Benwick’s manners as the very best that could
possibly be; and, after a little hesitation, she was beginning to say,
“I was not entering into any comparison of the two friends,” but the
Admiral interrupted her with—
“And the thing is certainly true. It is not a mere bit of gossip. We
have it from Frederick himself. His sister had a letter from him
yesterday, in which he tells us of it, and he had just had it in a
letter from Harville, written upon the spot, from Uppercross. I fancy
they are all at Uppercross.”
This was an opportunity which Anne could not resist; she said,
therefore, “I hope, Admiral, I hope there is nothing in the style of
Captain Wentworth’s letter to make you and Mrs Croft particularly
uneasy. It did seem, last autumn, as if there were an attachment
between him and Louisa Musgrove; but I hope it may be understood to
have worn out on each side equally, and without violence. I hope his
letter does not breathe the spirit of an ill-used man.”
“Not at all, not at all; there is not an oath or a murmur from
beginning to end.”
Anne looked down to hide her smile.
“No, no; Frederick is not a man to whine and complain; he has too much
spirit for that. If the girl likes another man better, it is very fit
she should have him.”
“Certainly. But what I mean is, that I hope there is nothing in Captain
Wentworth’s manner of writing to make you suppose he thinks himself
ill-used by his friend, which might appear, you know, without its being
absolutely said. I should be very sorry that such a friendship as has
subsisted between him and Captain Benwick should be destroyed, or even
wounded, by a circumstance of this sort.”
“Yes, yes, I understand you. But there is nothing at all of that nature
in the letter. He does not give the least fling at Benwick; does not so
much as say, ‘I wonder at it, I have a reason of my own for wondering
at it.’ No, you would not guess, from his way of writing, that he had
ever thought of this Miss (what’s her name?) for himself. He very
handsomely hopes they will be happy together; and there is nothing very
unforgiving in that, I think.”
Anne did not receive the perfect conviction which the Admiral meant to
convey, but it would have been useless to press the enquiry farther.
She therefore satisfied herself with common-place remarks or quiet
attention, and the Admiral had it all his own way.
“Poor Frederick!” said he at last. “Now he must begin all over again
with somebody else. I think we must get him to Bath. Sophy must write,
and beg him to come to Bath. Here are pretty girls enough, I am sure.
It would be of no use to go to Uppercross again, for that other Miss
Musgrove, I find, is bespoke by her cousin, the young parson. Do not
you think, Miss Elliot, we had better try to get him to Bath?”
CHAPTER XIX.
While Admiral Croft was taking this walk with Anne, and expressing his
wish of getting Captain Wentworth to Bath, Captain Wentworth was
already on his way thither. Before Mrs Croft had written, he was
arrived, and the very next time Anne walked out, she saw him.
Mr Elliot was attending his two cousins and Mrs Clay. They were in
Milsom Street. It began to rain, not much, but enough to make shelter
desirable for women, and quite enough to make it very desirable for
Miss Elliot to have the advantage of being conveyed home in Lady
Dalrymple’s carriage, which was seen waiting at a little distance; she,
Anne, and Mrs Clay, therefore, turned into Molland’s, while Mr Elliot
stepped to Lady Dalrymple, to request her assistance. He soon joined
them again, successful, of course; Lady Dalrymple would be most happy
to take them home, and would call for them in a few minutes.
Her ladyship’s carriage was a barouche, and did not hold more than four
with any comfort. Miss Carteret was with her mother; consequently it
was not reasonable to expect accommodation for all the three Camden
Place ladies. There could be no doubt as to Miss Elliot. Whoever
suffered inconvenience, she must suffer none, but it occupied a little
time to settle the point of civility between the other two. The rain
was a mere trifle, and Anne was most sincere in preferring a walk with
Mr Elliot. But the rain was also a mere trifle to Mrs Clay; she would
hardly allow it even to drop at all, and her boots were so thick! much
thicker than Miss Anne’s; and, in short, her civility rendered her
quite as anxious to be left to walk with Mr Elliot as Anne could be,
and it was discussed between them with a generosity so polite and so
determined, that the others were obliged to settle it for them; Miss
Elliot maintaining that Mrs Clay had a little cold already, and Mr
Elliot deciding on appeal, that his cousin Anne’s boots were rather the
thickest.