101:003,00[U  ]| <PERSUASION.>
101:003,01['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot, of Kellynch-hall, in Somersetshire, 
101:003,02['  ]| was a man who, for his own amusement, never took up 
101:003,03['  ]| any book but the Baronetage; there he found occupation 
101:003,04['  ]| for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed one; 
101:003,05['  ]| there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, 
101:003,06['  ]| by contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest 
101:003,07['  ]| patents; there any unwelcome sensations, arising from 
101:003,08['  ]| domestic affairs, changed naturally into pity and contempt, 
101:003,09['  ]| as he turned over the almost endless creations of the last 
101:003,10['  ]| century ~~ and there, if every other leaf were powerless, 
101:003,11['  ]| he could read his own history with an interest which 
101:003,12['  ]| never failed ~~ this was the page at which the favourite 
101:003,13['  ]| volume always opened: 
101:003,15@z   | "$PN#G1$ELLIOT*OF*KELLYNCH-HALL. 
101:003,17@z   | "$PN#G$Walter*Elliot, born$1#1$ March*1*1760, married, July*15*1784, 
101:003,18@z   | $PN#ZK$Elizabeth, daughter of $PN#ZZK$James*Stevenson_*Esq% of 
101:003,19@z   | South*Park, in the county of Gloucester; by which lady 
101:003,20@z   | (who died 1800) he has issue $PN#H$Elizabeth, born$1#1$ June*1*1785; 
101:003,21@z   | $PN#A$Anne, born$1#1$ August*9*1787; a still-born son, 
101:003,22@z   | Nov%*5*1789; $PN#P$Mary, born$1#1$ Nov%*20*1791." 
101:003,23['  ]| Precisely such had the paragraph originally stood from 
101:003,24['  ]| the printer's hands; but $PN#G$Sir*Walter had improved it by 
101:003,25['  ]| adding, for the information of himself and his family, 
101:003,26['  ]| these words, after the date of $PN#P$Mary's birth ~~ 
101:003,26[G  ]| "married, 
101:003,27[G  ]| Dec%*16*1810, $PN#O$Charles, son and heir of $PN#W$Charles*Musgrove_*Esq% 
101:003,28[G  ]| of Uppercross, in the county of Somerset," ~~ 
101:003,28['  ]| and by 
101:003,29['  ]| inserting most accurately the day of the month on which 
101:003,30['  ]| he had lost his wife. 
101:003,31['  ]| Then followed the history and rise of the ancient and 
101:004,01['  ]| respectable family, in the usual terms:  how it had been 
101:004,02['  ]| first settled in Cheshire; how mentioned in $PN#Z1$Dugdale ~~ 
101:004,03['  ]| serving the office of High*Sheriff, representing a borough 
101:004,04['  ]| in three successive parliaments, exertions of loyalty, and 
101:004,05['  ]| dignity of baronet, in the first year of $PN#Z1$Charles*II%, with 
101:004,06['  ]| all the $PN#G2$Marys and $PN#G2$Elizabeths they had married; forming 
101:004,07['  ]| altogether two handsome duodecimo pages, and concluding 
101:004,08['  ]| with the arms and motto:  "Principal seat, 
101:004,09['  ]| Kellynch*hall, in the county of Somerset," and $PN#G$Sir*Walter's 
101:004,10['  ]| hand-writing again in this finale: 
101:004,11[G  ]| "Heir*presumptive, $PN#I$William*Walter*Elliot_*Esq%, 
101:004,12[G  ]| great*grandson of the second $PN#G2$Sir*Walter." 
101:004,13['  ]| Vanity was the beginning and the end of $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot's 
101:004,14['  ]| character; vanity of person and of situation. 
101:004,15['  ]| He had been remarkably handsome in his youth; and, 
101:004,16['  ]| at fifty-four, was still a very fine man.  Few women 
101:004,17['  ]| could think more of their personal appearance than he 
101:004,18['  ]| did; nor could the valet of any new*made lord be more 
101:004,19['  ]| delighted with the place he held in society.  He considered 
101:004,20['  ]| the blessing of beauty as inferior only to the blessing of 
101:004,21['  ]| a baronetcy; and the $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot, who united these 
101:004,22['  ]| gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect and 
101:004,23['  ]| devotion. 
101:004,24['  ]| His good looks and his rank had one fair claim on his 
101:004,25['  ]| attachment; since to them he must have owed a wife 
101:004,26['  ]| of very superior character to any*thing deserved by his 
101:004,27['  ]| own.  $PN#ZK$Lady*Elliot had been an excellent woman, sensible 
101:004,28['  ]| and amiable; whose judgment and conduct, if they 
101:004,29['  ]| might be pardoned the youthful infatuation which made 
101:004,30['  ]| her $PN#ZK$Lady*Elliot, had never required indulgence afterwards. 
101:004,31['  ]| ~~ She had humoured, or softened, or concealed his 
101:004,32['  ]| failings, and promoted his real respectability for seventeen 
101:004,33['  ]| years; and though not the very happiest being in the 
101:004,34['  ]| world herself, had found enough in her duties, her friends, 
101:004,35['  ]| and her children, to attach her to life, and make it no 
101:004,36['  ]| matter of indifference to her when she was called on to 
101:004,37['  ]| quit them. ~~ Three girls, the two eldest sixteen and 
101:004,38['  ]| fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother to bequeath; 
101:005,01['  ]| an awful charge rather, to confide to the authority and 
101:005,02['  ]| guidance of a conceited, silly father.  She had, however, 
101:005,03['  ]| one very intimate friend, a sensible, deserving woman, 
101:005,04['  ]| who had been brought, by strong attachment to herself, to 
101:005,05['  ]| settle close by her, in the village of Kellynch; and on her 
101:005,06['  ]| kindness and advice, $PN#ZK$Lady*Elliot mainly relied for the best 
101:005,07['  ]| help and maintenance of the good principles and instruction 
101:005,08['  ]| which she had been anxiously giving her daughters. 
101:005,09['  ]| This friend, and $PN#G$Sir*Walter, did \not\ marry, whatever 
101:005,10['  ]| might have been anticipated on that head by their 
101:005,11['  ]| acquaintance. ~~ Thirteen years had passed away since 
101:005,12['  ]| $PN#ZK$Lady*Elliot's death, and they were still near neighbours 
101:005,13['  ]| and intimate friends; and one remained a widower, the 
101:005,14['  ]| other a widow. 
101:005,15['  ]| That $PN#K$Lady*Russell, of steady age and character, and 
101:005,16['  ]| extremely well provided for, should have no thought of 
101:005,17['  ]| a second marriage, needs no apology to the public, which 
101:005,18['  ]| is rather apt to be unreasonably discontented when a 
101:005,19['  ]| woman \does\ marry again, than when she does \not\; but 
101:005,20['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter's continuing in singleness requires explanation. ~~ 
101:005,21['  ]| Be it known then, that $PN#G$Sir*Walter, like a good 
101:005,22['  ]| father, (having met with one or two private disappointments 
101:005,23['  ]| in very unreasonable applications) prided himself 
101:005,24['  ]| on remaining single for his dear daughter's sake.  For 
101:005,25['  ]| one daughter, his eldest, he would really have given up 
101:005,26['  ]| any*thing, which he had not been very much tempted to 
101:005,27['  ]| do.  $PN#H$Elizabeth had succeeded, at sixteen, to all that was 
101:005,28['  ]| possible, of her mother's rights and consequence; and 
101:005,29['  ]| being very handsome, and very like himself, her influence 
101:005,30['  ]| had always been great, and they had gone on together 
101:005,31['  ]| most happily.  His two other children were of very 
101:005,32['  ]| inferior value.  $PN#P$Mary had acquired a little artificial 
101:005,33['  ]| importance, by becoming $PN#P$Mrs%*Charles*Musgrove; but 
101:005,34['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, with an elegance of mind and sweetness of character, 
101:005,35['  ]| which must have placed her high with any people 
101:005,36['  ]| of real understanding, was nobody with either father or 
101:005,37['  ]| sister:  her word had no weight; her convenience was 
101:005,38['  ]| always to give way; ~~ she was only $PN#A$Anne. 
101:006,01['  ]| To $PN#K$Lady*Russell, indeed, she was a most dear and 
101:006,02['  ]| highly valued god-daughter, favourite and friend.  $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
101:006,03['  ]| loved them all; but it was only in $PN#A$Anne that she 
101:006,04['  ]| could fancy the mother to revive again. 
101:006,05['  ]| A few years before, $PN#A$Anne*Elliot had been a very pretty 
101:006,06['  ]| girl, but her bloom had vanished early; and as even in 
101:006,07['  ]| its height, her father had found little to admire in her, 
101:006,08['  ]| (so totally different were her delicate features and mild 
101:006,09['  ]| dark eyes from his own); there could be nothing in them 
101:006,10['  ]| now that she was faded and thin, to excite his esteem. 
101:006,11['  ]| He had never indulged much hope, he had now none, of 
101:006,12['  ]| ever reading her name in any other page of his favourite 
101:006,13['  ]| work.  All equality of alliance must rest with $PN#H$Elizabeth; 
101:006,14['  ]| for $PN#P$Mary had merely connected herself with an old 
101:006,15['  ]| country family of respectability and large fortune, and 
101:006,16['  ]| had therefore \given\ all the honour, and received none: 
101:006,17['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth would, one day or other, marry suitably. 
101:006,18['  ]| It sometimes happens, that a woman is handsomer at 
101:006,19['  ]| twenty-nine than she was ten years before; and, generally 
101:006,20['  ]| speaking, if there has been neither ill*health nor anxiety, 
101:006,21['  ]| it is a time of life at which scarcely any charm is lost. 
101:006,22['  ]| It was so with $PN#H$Elizabeth; still the same handsome 
101:006,23['  ]| $PN#H$Miss*Elliot that she had begun to be thirteen years ago; 
101:006,24['  ]| and $PN#G$Sir*Walter might be excused, therefore, in forgetting 
101:006,25['  ]| her age, or, at least, be deemed only half a fool, for 
101:006,26['  ]| thinking himself and $PN#H$Elizabeth as blooming as ever, 
101:006,27['  ]| amidst the wreck of the good looks of every*body else; 
101:006,28['  ]| for he could plainly see how old all the rest of his family 
101:006,29['  ]| and acquaintance were growing.  $PN#A$Anne haggard, $PN#P$Mary 
101:006,30['  ]| coarse, every face in the neighbourhood worsting; and 
101:006,31['  ]| the rapid increase of crow's*foot about $PN#K$Lady*Russell's 
101:006,32['  ]| temples had long been a distress to him. 
101:006,33['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth did not quite equal her father in personal 
101:006,34['  ]| contentment.  Thirteen years had seen her mistress of 
101:006,35['  ]| Kellynch*Hall, presiding and directing with a self-possession 
101:006,36['  ]| and decision which could never have given 
101:006,37['  ]| the idea of her being younger than she was.  For thirteen 
101:006,38['  ]| years had she been doing the honours, and laying down 
101:007,01['  ]| the domestic law at home, and leading the way to the 
101:007,02['  ]| chaise*and*four, and walking immediately after $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
101:007,03['  ]| out of all the drawing-rooms and dining-rooms 
101:007,04['  ]| in the country.  Thirteen winters' revolving frosts had 
101:007,05['  ]| seen her opening every ball of credit which a scanty 
101:007,06['  ]| neighbourhood afforded; and thirteen springs shewn 
101:007,07['  ]| their blossoms, as she travelled up to London with her 
101:007,08['  ]| father, for a few weeks annual enjoyment of the great 
101:007,09['  ]| world.  She had the remembrance of all this; she had 
101:007,10['  ]| the consciousness of being nine-and-twenty, to give her 
101:007,11['  ]| some regrets and some apprehensions.  She was fully 
101:007,12['  ]| satisfied of being still quite as handsome as ever; but 
101:007,13['  ]| she felt her approach to the years of danger, and would 
101:007,14['  ]| have rejoiced to be certain of being properly solicited 
101:007,15['  ]| by baronet-blood within the next twelvemonth or two. 
101:007,16['  ]| Then might she again take up the book of books with 
101:007,17['  ]| as much enjoyment as in her early youth; but now she 
101:007,18['  ]| liked it not.  Always to be presented with the date of 
101:007,19['  ]| her own birth, and see no marriage follow but that of 
101:007,20['  ]| a youngest sister, made the book an evil; and more 
101:007,21['  ]| than once, when her father had left it open on the table 
101:007,22['  ]| near her, had she closed it, with averted eyes, and pushed 
101:007,23['  ]| it away. 
101:007,24['  ]| She had had a disappointment, moreover, which that 
101:007,25['  ]| book, and especially the history of her own family, must 
101:007,26['  ]| ever present the remembrance of.  The heir*presumptive, 
101:007,27['  ]| the very $PN#I$William*Walter*Elliot_*Esq% whose rights had 
101:007,28['  ]| been so generously supported by her father, had disappointed 
101:007,29['  ]| her. 
101:007,30['  ]| She had, while a very young girl, as soon as she had 
101:007,31['  ]| known him to be, in the event of her having no brother, 
101:007,32['  ]| the future baronet, meant to marry him; and her father 
101:007,33['  ]| had always meant that she should.  He had not been 
101:007,34['  ]| known to them as a boy, but soon after $PN#ZK$Lady*Elliot's 
101:007,35['  ]| death $PN#G$Sir*Walter had sought the acquaintance, and though 
101:007,36['  ]| his overtures had not been met with any warmth, he had 
101:007,37['  ]| persevered in seeking it, making allowance for the modest 
101:007,38['  ]| drawing back of youth; and in one of their spring 
101:008,01['  ]| excursions to London, when $PN#H$Elizabeth was in her first 
101:008,02['  ]| bloom, $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot had been forced into the introduction. 
101:008,03['  ]| He was at that time a very young man, just engaged 
101:008,04['  ]| in the study of the law; and $PN#H$Elizabeth found him 
101:008,05['  ]| extremely agreeable, and every plan in his favour was 
101:008,06['  ]| confirmed.  He was invited to Kellynch*Hall; he was 
101:008,07['  ]| talked of and expected all the rest of the year; but he 
101:008,08['  ]| never came.  The following spring he was seen again in 
101:008,09['  ]| town, found equally agreeable, again encouraged, invited 
101:008,10['  ]| and expected, and again he did not come; and the next 
101:008,11['  ]| tidings were that he was married.  Instead of pushing 
101:008,12['  ]| his fortune in the line marked out for the heir of the 
101:008,13['  ]| house of $PN#G1$Elliot, he had purchased independence by uniting 
101:008,14['  ]| himself to a rich woman of inferior birth. 
101:008,15['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter had resented it.  As the head of the house, 
101:008,16['  ]| he felt that he ought to have been consulted, especially 
101:008,17['  ]| after taking the young man so publicly by the hand: 
101:008,18[G  ]| "For they must have been seen together," 
101:008,18['  ]| he observed, 
101:008,19[G  ]| "once at $PN#Z1$Tattersal's, and twice in the lobby of the House*of*Commons." 
101:008,20['  ]| His disapprobation was expressed, but 
101:008,21['  ]| apparently very little regarded.  $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot had attempted 
101:008,22['  ]| no apology, and shewn himself as unsolicitous of being 
101:008,23['  ]| longer noticed by the family, as $PN#G$Sir*Walter considered 
101:008,24['  ]| him unworthy of it:  all acquaintance between them had 
101:008,25['  ]| ceased. 
101:008,26['  ]| This very awkward history of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, was still, 
101:008,27['  ]| after an interval of several years, felt with anger by 
101:008,28['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth, who had liked the man for himself, and still 
101:008,29['  ]| more for being her father's heir, and whose strong family 
101:008,30['  ]| pride could see only in \him\, a proper match for $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot's 
101:008,31['  ]| eldest daughter.  There was not a baronet from 
101:008,32['  ]| A to Z, whom her feelings could have so willingly acknowledged 
101:008,33['  ]| as an equal.  Yet so miserably had he conducted 
101:008,34['  ]| himself, that though she was at this present time, (the 
101:008,35['  ]| summer of 1814,) wearing black ribbons for his wife, she 
101:008,36['  ]| could not admit him to be worth thinking of again.  The 
101:008,37['  ]| disgrace of his first marriage might, perhaps, as there was 
101:008,38['  ]| no reason to suppose it perpetuated by offspring, have 
101:009,01['  ]| been got over, had he not done worse; but he had, as 
101:009,02['  ]| by the accustomary intervention of kind friends they 
101:009,03['  ]| had been informed, spoken most disrespectfully of them 
101:009,04['  ]| all, most slightingly and contemptuously of the very 
101:009,05['  ]| blood he belonged to, and the honours which were hereafter 
101:009,06['  ]| to be his own.  This could not be pardoned. 
101:009,07['  ]| Such were $PN#H$Elizabeth*Elliot's sentiments and sensations; 
101:009,08['  ]| such the cares to alloy, the agitations to vary, the sameness 
101:009,09['  ]| and the elegance, the prosperity and the nothingness, 
101:009,10['  ]| of her scene of life ~~ such the feelings to give interest to 
101:009,11['  ]| a long, uneventful residence in one country circle, to fill 
101:009,12['  ]| the vacancies which there were no habits of utility abroad, 
101:009,13['  ]| no talents or accomplishments for home, to occupy. 
101:009,14['  ]| But now, another occupation and solicitude of mind was 
101:009,15['  ]| beginning to be added to these.  Her father was growing 
101:009,16['  ]| distressed for money.  She knew, that when he now took 
101:009,17['  ]| up the Baronetage, it was to drive the heavy bills of his 
101:009,18['  ]| tradespeople, and the unwelcome hints of $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd, 
101:009,19['  ]| his agent, from his thoughts.  The Kellynch property 
101:009,20['  ]| was good, but not equal to $PN#G$Sir*Walter's apprehension of 
101:009,21['  ]| the state required in its possessor.  While $PN#ZK$Lady*Elliot 
101:009,22['  ]| lived, there had been method, moderation, and economy, 
101:009,23['  ]| which had just kept him within his income; but with 
101:009,24['  ]| her had died all such right-mindedness, and from that 
101:009,25['  ]| period he had been constantly exceeding it.  It had not 
101:009,26['  ]| been possible for him to spend less; he had done nothing 
101:009,27['  ]| but what $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot was imperiously called on to 
101:009,28['  ]| do; but blameless as he was, he was not only growing 
101:009,29['  ]| dreadfully in debt, but was hearing of it so often, that 
101:009,30['  ]| it became vain to attempt concealing it longer, even 
101:009,31['  ]| partially, from his daughter.  He had given her some 
101:009,32['  ]| hints of it the last spring in town; he had gone so far 
101:009,33['  ]| even as to say, 
101:009,33[G  ]| "Can we retrench? does it occur to you 
101:009,34[G  ]| that there is any one article in which we can retrench?" ~~ 
101:009,35['  ]| and $PN#H$Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour 
101:009,36['  ]| of female alarm, set seriously to think what could be 
101:009,37['  ]| done, and had finally proposed these two branches of 
101:009,38['  ]| economy:  to cut off some unnecessary charities, and to 
101:010,01['  ]| refrain from new-furnishing the drawing-room; to which 
101:010,02['  ]| expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of 
101:010,03['  ]| their taking no present down to $PN#A$Anne, as had been the 
101:010,04['  ]| usual yearly custom.  But these measures, however good 
101:010,05['  ]| in themselves, were insufficient for the real extent of the 
101:010,06['  ]| evil, the whole of which $PN#G$Sir*Walter found himself obliged 
101:010,07['  ]| to confess to her soon afterwards.  $PN#H$Elizabeth had nothing 
101:010,08['  ]| to propose of deeper efficacy.  She felt herself ill-used 
101:010,09['  ]| and unfortunate, as did her father; and they were neither 
101:010,10['  ]| of them able to devise any means of lessening their expenses 
101:010,11['  ]| without compromising their dignity, or relinquishing 
101:010,12['  ]| their comforts in a way not to be borne. 
101:010,13['  ]| There was only a small part of his estate that $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
101:010,14['  ]| could dispose of; but had every acre been alienable, it 
101:010,15['  ]| would have made no difference.  He had condescended 
101:010,16['  ]| to mortgage as far as he had the power, but he would never 
101:010,17['  ]| condescend to sell.  
101:010,17@g   | No; he would never disgrace his 
101:010,18@g   | name so far.  The Kellynch estate should be transmitted 
101:010,19@g   | whole and entire, as he had received it. 
101:010,20['  ]| Their two confidential friends, $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd, who lived 
101:010,21['  ]| in the neighbouring market town, and $PN#K$Lady*Russell, were 
101:010,22['  ]| called on to advise them; and both father and daughter 
101:010,23['  ]| seemed to expect that something should be struck out 
101:010,24['  ]| by one or the other to remove their embarrassments and 
101:010,25['  ]| reduce their expenditure, without involving the loss of 
101:010,26['  ]| any indulgence of taste or pride. 
102:011,01['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd, a civil, cautious lawyer, who, whatever 
102:011,02['  ]| might be his hold or his views on $PN#G$Sir*Walter, would rather 
102:011,03['  ]| have the \disagreeable\ prompted by any*body else, excused 
102:011,04['  ]| himself from offering the slightest hint, and only begged 
102:011,05['  ]| leave to recommend an implicit deference to the excellent 
102:011,06['  ]| judgment of $PN#K$Lady*Russell, ~~ from whose known good sense 
102:011,07['  ]| he fully expected to have just such resolute measures 
102:011,08['  ]| advised, as he meant to see finally adopted. 
102:011,09['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell was most anxiously zealous on the subject, 
102:011,10['  ]| and gave it much serious consideration.  She was a woman 
102:011,11['  ]| rather of sound than of quick abilities, whose difficulties 
102:011,12['  ]| in coming to any decision in this instance were great, 
102:011,13['  ]| from the opposition of two leading principles.  She was 
102:011,14['  ]| of strict integrity herself, with a delicate sense of honour; 
102:011,15['  ]| but she was as desirous of saving $PN#G$Sir*Walter's feelings, 
102:011,16['  ]| as solicitous for the credit of the family, as aristocratic 
102:011,17['  ]| in her ideas of what was due to them, as any*body of 
102:011,18['  ]| sense and honesty could well be.  She was a benevolent, 
102:011,19['  ]| charitable, good woman, and capable of strong attachments; 
102:011,20['  ]| most correct in her conduct, strict in her notions 
102:011,21['  ]| of decorum, and with manners that were held a standard 
102:011,22['  ]| of good-breeding.  She had a cultivated mind, and was, 
102:011,23['  ]| generally speaking, rational and consistent ~~ but she had 
102:011,24['  ]| prejudices on the side of ancestry; she had a value for 
102:011,25['  ]| rank and consequence, which blinded her a little to the 
102:011,26['  ]| faults of those who possessed them.  Herself, the widow 
102:011,27['  ]| of only a knight, she gave the dignity of a baronet all its 
102:011,28['  ]| due; and $PN#G$Sir*Walter, independent of his claims as an 
102:011,29['  ]| old acquaintance, an attentive neighbour, an obliging 
102:011,30['  ]| landlord, the husband of her very dear friend, the father 
102:011,31['  ]| of $PN#A$Anne and her sisters, was, as being $PN#G$Sir*Walter, in her 
102:011,32['  ]| apprehension entitled to a great deal of compassion and 
102:011,33['  ]| consideration under his present difficulties. 
102:012,01@k   | They must retrench; that did not admit of a doubt. 
102:012,02['  ]| But she was very anxious to have it done with the least 
102:012,03['  ]| possible pain to him and $PN#H$Elizabeth.  She drew up plans 
102:012,04['  ]| of economy, she made exact calculations, and she did, 
102:012,05['  ]| what nobody else thought of doing, she consulted $PN#A$Anne, 
102:012,06['  ]| who never seemed considered by the others as having 
102:012,07['  ]| any interest in the question.  She consulted, and in 
102:012,08['  ]| a degree was influenced by her, in marking out the 
102:012,09['  ]| scheme of retrenchment, which was at last submitted to 
102:012,10['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter.  Every emendation of $PN#A$Anne's had been on 
102:012,11['  ]| the side of honesty against importance.  She wanted 
102:012,12['  ]| more vigorous measures, a more complete reformation, 
102:012,13['  ]| a quicker release from debt, a much higher tone of 
102:012,14['  ]| indifference for every*thing but justice and equity. 
102:012,15[K  ]| "If we can persuade your father to all this," 
102:012,15['  ]| said 
102:012,16['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell, looking over her paper, 
102:012,16[K  ]| "much may be 
102:012,17[K  ]| done.  If he will adopt these regulations, in seven years 
102:012,18[K  ]| he will be clear; and I hope we may be able to convince 
102:012,19[K  ]| him and $PN#H$Elizabeth, that Kellynch-hall has a respectability 
102:012,20[K  ]| in itself, which cannot be affected by these reductions; 
102:012,21[K  ]| and that the true dignity of $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot will be very 
102:012,22[K  ]| far from lessened, in the eyes of sensible people, by his 
102:012,23[K  ]| acting like a man of principle.  What will he be doing, 
102:012,24[K  ]| in fact, but what very many of our first families have done, 
102:012,25[K  ]| ~~ or ought to do? ~~ There will be nothing singular in 
102:012,26[K  ]| his case; and it is singularity which often makes the 
102:012,27[K  ]| worst part of our suffering, as it always does of our conduct. 
102:012,28[K  ]| I have great hope of our prevailing.  We must 
102:012,29[K  ]| be serious and decided ~~ for, after all, the person who has 
102:012,30[K  ]| contracted debts must pay them; and though a great 
102:012,31[K  ]| deal is due to the feelings of the gentleman, and the head 
102:012,32[K  ]| of a house, like your father, there is still more due to the 
102:012,33[K  ]| character of an honest man." 
102:012,34['  ]| This was the principle on which $PN#A$Anne wanted her 
102:012,35['  ]| father to be proceeding, his friends to be urging him.  She 
102:012,36['  ]| considered it as an act of indispensable duty to clear 
102:012,37['  ]| away the claims of creditors, with all the expedition 
102:012,38['  ]| which the most comprehensive retrenchments could 
102:013,01['  ]| secure, and saw no dignity in any*thing short of it.  She 
102:013,02['  ]| wanted it to be prescribed, and felt as a duty.  She rated 
102:013,03['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell's influence highly, and as to the severe 
102:013,04['  ]| degree of self-denial, which her own conscience prompted, 
102:013,05['  ]| she believed there might be little more difficulty in 
102:013,06['  ]| persuading them to a complete, than to half a reformation. 
102:013,07['  ]| Her knowledge of her father and $PN#H$Elizabeth, inclined her 
102:013,08['  ]| to think that the sacrifice of one pair of horses would be 
102:013,09['  ]| hardly less painful than of both, and so on, through the 
102:013,10['  ]| whole list of $PN#K$Lady*Russell's too gentle reductions. 
102:013,11['  ]| How $PN#A$Anne's more rigid requisitions might have been 
102:013,12['  ]| taken, is of little consequence.  $PN#K$Lady*Russell's had no 
102:013,13['  ]| success at all ~~ could not be put up with ~~ were not to 
102:013,14['  ]| be borne. 
102:013,14[G  ]| "What!  Every comfort of life knocked off! 
102:013,15[G  ]| Journeys, London, servants, horses, table, ~~ contractions 
102:013,16[G  ]| and restrictions every*where.  To live no longer with the 
102:013,17[G  ]| decencies even of a private gentleman!  No, he would 
102:013,18[G  ]| sooner quit Kellynch-hall at once, than remain in it on 
102:013,19[G  ]| such disgraceful terms." 
102:013,20[Q  ]| "Quit Kellynch-hall." 
102:013,20['  ]| The hint was immediately taken 
102:013,21['  ]| up by $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd, whose interest was involved in the 
102:013,22['  ]| reality of $PN#G$Sir*Walter's retrenching, and who was perfectly 
102:013,23['  ]| persuaded that nothing would be done without a change 
102:013,24['  ]| of abode. ~~ 
102:013,24[Q  ]| "Since the idea had been started in the very 
102:013,25[Q  ]| quarter which ought to dictate, he had no scruple," 
102:013,26['  ]| he said, 
102:013,26[Q  ]| "in confessing his judgment to be entirely on 
102:013,27[Q  ]| that side.  It did not appear to him that $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
102:013,28[Q  ]| could materially alter his style of living in a house which 
102:013,29[Q  ]| had such a character of hospitality and ancient dignity 
102:013,30[Q  ]| to support. ~~ In any other place, $PN#G$Sir*Walter might judge 
102:013,31[Q  ]| for himself; and would be looked up to, as regulating 
102:013,32[Q  ]| the modes of life, in whatever way he might choose to 
102:013,33[Q  ]| model his household." 
102:013,34['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter would quit Kellynch-hall; ~~ and after a very 
102:013,35['  ]| few days more of doubt and indecision, the great question 
102:013,36['  ]| of whither he should go, was settled, and the first outline 
102:013,37['  ]| of this important change made out. 
102:013,38['  ]| There had been three alternatives, London, Bath, or 
102:014,01['  ]| another house in the country.  All $PN#A$Anne's wishes had been 
102:014,02['  ]| for the latter.  A small house in their own neighbourhood, 
102:014,03['  ]| where they might still have $PN#K$Lady*Russell's society, still 
102:014,04['  ]| be near $PN#P$Mary, and still have the pleasure of sometimes 
102:014,05['  ]| seeing the lawns and groves of Kellynch, was the object 
102:014,06['  ]| of her ambition.  But the usual fate of $PN#A$Anne attended 
102:014,07['  ]| her, in having something very opposite from her inclination 
102:014,08['  ]| fixed on.  She disliked Bath, and did not think it 
102:014,09['  ]| agreed with her ~~ and Bath was to be her home. 
102:014,10['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter had at first thought more of London, but 
102:014,11['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd felt that he could not be trusted in London, 
102:014,12['  ]| and had been skilful enough to dissuade him from it, and 
102:014,13['  ]| make Bath preferred. 
102:014,13@q   | It was a much safer place for 
102:014,14@q   | a gentleman in his predicament: ~~ he might there be 
102:014,15@q   | important at comparatively little expense. ~~ 
102:014,15['  ]| Two material 
102:014,16['  ]| advantages of Bath over London had of course been given 
102:014,17['  ]| all their weight, its more convenient distance from 
102:014,18['  ]| Kellynch, only fifty miles, and $PN#K$Lady*Russell's spending 
102:014,19['  ]| some part of every winter there; and to the very great 
102:014,20['  ]| satisfaction of $PN#K$Lady*Russell, whose first views on the 
102:014,21['  ]| projected change had been for Bath, $PN#G$Sir*Walter and 
102:014,22['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth were induced to believe that they should lose 
102:014,23['  ]| neither consequence nor enjoyment by settling there. 
102:014,24['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell felt obliged to oppose her dear $PN#A$Anne's 
102:014,25['  ]| known wishes.  
102:014,25@k   | It would be too much to expect $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
102:014,26@k   | to descend into a small house in his own neighbourhood. 
102:014,27@k   | $PN#A$Anne herself would have found the mortifications 
102:014,28@k   | of it more than she foresaw, and to $PN#G$Sir*Walter's 
102:014,29@k   | feelings they must have been dreadful.  And with regard 
102:014,30@k   | to $PN#A$Anne's dislike of Bath, she considered it as a prejudice 
102:014,31@k   | and mistake, arising first from the circumstance of her 
102:014,32@k   | having been three years at school there, after her mother's 
102:014,33@k   | death, and, secondly, from her happening to be not in 
102:014,34@k   | perfectly good spirits the only winter which she had 
102:014,35@k   | afterwards spent there with herself. 
102:014,36['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell was fond of Bath in short, and disposed 
102:014,37['  ]| to think it must suit them all; and 
102:014,37@k   | as to her young friend's 
102:014,38@k   | health, by passing all the warm months with her at 
102:015,01@k   | Kellynch-lodge, every danger would be avoided; and it 
102:015,02@k   | was, in fact, a change which must do both health and 
102:015,03@k   | spirits good.  $PN#A$Anne had been too little from home, too 
102:015,04@k   | little seen.  Her spirits were not high.  A larger society 
102:015,05@k   | would improve them.  She wanted her to be more known. 
102:015,06['  ]| The undesirableness of any other house in the same 
102:015,07['  ]| neighbourhood for $PN#G$Sir*Walter, was certainly much 
102:015,08['  ]| strengthened by one part, and a very material part of 
102:015,09['  ]| the scheme, which had been happily engrafted on the 
102:015,10['  ]| beginning.  He was not only to quit his home, but to see 
102:015,11['  ]| it in the hands of others; a trial of fortitude, which 
102:015,12['  ]| stronger heads than $PN#G$Sir*Walter's have found too much. ~~ 
102:015,13['  ]| Kellynch-hall was to be let.  This, however, was a profound 
102:015,14['  ]| secret; not to be breathed beyond their own circle. 
102:015,15['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter could not have borne the degradation of 
102:015,16['  ]| being known to design letting his house. ~~ $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd 
102:015,17['  ]| had once mentioned the word, "advertise;" ~~ but never 
102:015,18['  ]| dared approach it again; $PN#G$Sir*Walter spurned the idea of 
102:015,19['  ]| its being offered in any manner; forbad the slightest hint 
102:015,20['  ]| being dropped of his having such an intention; and it 
102:015,21['  ]| was only on the supposition of his being spontaneously 
102:015,22['  ]| solicited by some most unexceptionable applicant, on his 
102:015,23['  ]| own terms, and as a great favor, that he would let it at all. 
102:015,24['  ]| How quick come the reasons for approving what we 
102:015,25['  ]| like! ~~ $PN#K$Lady*Russell had another excellent one at hand, 
102:015,26['  ]| for being extremely glad that $PN#G$Sir*Walter and his family 
102:015,27['  ]| were to remove from the country.  $PN#H$Elizabeth had been 
102:015,28['  ]| lately forming an intimacy, which she wished to see 
102:015,29['  ]| interrupted.  It was with a daughter of $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd, 
102:015,30['  ]| who had returned, after an unprosperous marriage, to 
102:015,31['  ]| her father's house, with the additional burthen of two 
102:015,32['  ]| children.  She was a clever young woman, who understood 
102:015,33['  ]| the art of pleasing; the art of pleasing, at least, 
102:015,34['  ]| at Kellynch-hall; and who had made herself so acceptable 
102:015,35['  ]| to $PN#H$Miss*Elliot, as to have been already staying there more 
102:015,36['  ]| than once, in spite of all that $PN#K$Lady*Russell, who thought 
102:015,37['  ]| it a friendship quite out of place, could hint of caution 
102:015,38['  ]| and reserve. 
102:016,01['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell, indeed, had scarcely any influence with 
102:016,02['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth, and seemed to love her, rather because she 
102:016,03['  ]| would love her, than because $PN#H$Elizabeth deserved it.  She 
102:016,04['  ]| had never received from her more than outward attention, 
102:016,05['  ]| nothing beyond the observances of complaisance; had 
102:016,06['  ]| never succeeded in any point which she wanted to carry, 
102:016,07['  ]| against previous inclination.  She had been repeatedly 
102:016,08['  ]| very earnest in trying to get $PN#A$Anne included in the visit 
102:016,09['  ]| to London, sensibly open to all the injustice and all the 
102:016,10['  ]| discredit of the selfish arrangements which shut her out, 
102:016,11['  ]| and on many lesser occasions had endeavoured to give 
102:016,12['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth the advantage of her own better judgment and 
102:016,13['  ]| experience ~~ but always in vain; $PN#H$Elizabeth would go her 
102:016,14['  ]| own way ~~ and never had she pursued it in more decided 
102:016,15['  ]| opposition to $PN#K$Lady*Russell, than in this selection of 
102:016,16['  ]| $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay; turning from the society of so deserving a 
102:016,17['  ]| sister to bestow her affection and confidence on one who 
102:016,18['  ]| ought to have been nothing to her but the object of distant 
102:016,19['  ]| civility. 
102:016,20['  ]| From situation, $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay was, in $PN#K$Lady*Russell's 
102:016,21['  ]| estimate, a very unequal, and in her character she believed 
102:016,22['  ]| a very dangerous companion ~~ and a removal that would 
102:016,23['  ]| leave $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay behind, and bring a choice of more suitable 
102:016,24['  ]| intimates within $PN#H$Miss*Elliot's reach, was therefore an 
102:016,25['  ]| object of first-rate importance. 
103:017,01[Q  ]| "I must take leave to observe, $PN#G$Sir*Walter," 
103:017,01['  ]| said 
103:017,02['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd one morning at Kellynch*Hall, as he laid 
103:017,03['  ]| down the newspaper, 
103:017,03[Q  ]| "that the present juncture is much 
103:017,04[Q  ]| in our favour.  This peace will be turning all our rich 
103:017,05[Q  ]| Navy Officers ashore.  They will be all wanting a home. 
103:017,06[Q  ]| Could not be a better time, $PN#G$Sir*Walter, for having a choice 
103:017,07[Q  ]| of tenants, very responsible tenants.  Many a noble 
103:017,08[Q  ]| fortune has been made during the war.  If a rich Admiral 
103:017,09[Q  ]| were to come in our way, $PN#G$Sir*Walter ~" 
103:017,10[G  ]| "He would be a very lucky man, $PN#Q$Shepherd," 
103:017,10['  ]| replied 
103:017,11['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter, 
103:017,11[G  ]| "that's all I have to remark.  A prize indeed 
103:017,12[G  ]| would Kellynch*Hall be to him; rather the greatest 
103:017,13[G  ]| prize of all, let him have taken ever so many before ~~ hey, 
103:017,14[G  ]| $PN#Q$Shepherd?" 
103:017,15['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd laughed, as he knew he must, at this wit, 
103:017,16['  ]| and then added, 
103:017,17[Q  ]| "I presume to observe, $PN#G$Sir*Walter, that, in the way of 
103:017,18[Q  ]| business, gentlemen of the navy are well to deal with. 
103:017,19[Q  ]| I have had a little knowledge of their methods of doing 
103:017,20[Q  ]| business, and I am free to confess that they have very 
103:017,21[Q  ]| liberal notions, and are as likely to make desirable 
103:017,22[Q  ]| tenants as any set of people one should meet with.  Therefore, 
103:017,23[Q  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter, what I would take leave to suggest is, 
103:017,24[Q  ]| that if in consequence of any rumours getting abroad of 
103:017,25[Q  ]| your intention ~~ which must be contemplated as a possible 
103:017,26[Q  ]| thing, because we know how difficult it is to keep the 
103:017,27[Q  ]| actions and designs of one part of the world from the 
103:017,28[Q  ]| notice and curiosity of the other, ~~ consequence has its 
103:017,29[Q  ]| tax ~~ I, $PN#Q$John*Shepherd, might conceal any family-matters 
103:017,30[Q  ]| that I chose, for nobody would think it worth 
103:017,31[Q  ]| their while to observe me, but $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot has eyes 
103:017,32[Q  ]| upon him which it may be very difficult to elude ~~ and 
103:017,33[Q  ]| therefore, thus much I venture upon, that it will not 
103:018,01[Q  ]| greatly surprise me if, with all our caution, some rumour 
103:018,02[Q  ]| of the truth should get abroad ~~ in the supposition of 
103:018,03[Q  ]| which, as I was going to observe, since applications will 
103:018,04[Q  ]| unquestionably follow, I should think any from our 
103:018,05[Q  ]| wealthy naval commanders particularly worth attending 
103:018,06[Q  ]| to ~~ and beg leave to add, that two hours will bring me 
103:018,07[Q  ]| over at any time, to save you the trouble of replying." 
103:018,08['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter only nodded.  But soon afterwards, rising 
103:018,09['  ]| and pacing the room, he observed sarcastically, 
103:018,10[G  ]| "There are few among the gentlemen of the navy, 
103:018,11[G  ]| I imagine, who would not be surprised to find themselves 
103:018,12[G  ]| in a house of this description." 
103:018,13[C  ]| "They would look around them, no doubt, and bless 
103:018,14[C  ]| their good fortune," 
103:018,14['  ]| said $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay, for $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay was 
103:018,15['  ]| present; her father had driven her over, nothing being of 
103:018,16['  ]| so much use to $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay's health as a drive to Kellynch: 
103:018,17[C  ]| "but I quite agree with my father in thinking a sailor 
103:018,18[C  ]| might be a very desirable tenant.  I have known a good 
103:018,19[C  ]| deal of the profession; and besides their liberality, they 
103:018,20[C  ]| are so neat and careful in all their ways!  These valuable 
103:018,21[C  ]| pictures of yours, $PN#G$Sir*Walter, if you chose to leave them, 
103:018,22[C  ]| would be perfectly safe.  Every*thing in and about the 
103:018,23[C  ]| house would be taken such excellent care of!  the gardens 
103:018,24[C  ]| and shrubberies would be kept in almost as high order 
103:018,25[C  ]| as they are now.  You need not be afraid, $PN#H$Miss*Elliot, 
103:018,26[C  ]| of your own sweet flower-garden's being neglected." 
103:018,27[G  ]| "As to all that," 
103:018,27['  ]| rejoined $PN#G$Sir*Walter coolly, 
103:018,27[G  ]| "supposing 
103:018,28[G  ]| I were induced to let my house, I have by no means 
103:018,29[G  ]| made up my mind as to the privileges to be annexed to 
103:018,30[G  ]| it.  I am not particularly disposed to favour a tenant. 
103:018,31[G  ]| The park would be open to him of course, and few navy 
103:018,32[G  ]| officers, or men of any other description, can have had 
103:018,33[G  ]| such a range; but what restrictions I might impose on 
103:018,34[G  ]| the use of the pleasure-grounds, is another thing.  I am 
103:018,35[G  ]| not fond of the idea of my shrubberies being always 
103:018,36[G  ]| approachable; and I should recommend $PN#H$Miss*Elliot to be 
103:018,37[G  ]| on her guard with respect to her flower-garden.  I am very 
103:018,38[G  ]| little disposed to grant a tenant of Kellynch*Hall any 
103:019,01[G  ]| extraordinary favour, I assure you, be he sailor or 
103:019,02[G  ]| soldier." 
103:019,03['  ]| After a short pause, $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd presumed to say, 
103:019,04[Q  ]| "In all these cases, there are established usages which 
103:019,05[Q  ]| make every*thing plain and easy between landlord and 
103:019,06[Q  ]| tenant.  Your interest, $PN#G$Sir*Walter, is in pretty safe hands. 
103:019,07[Q  ]| Depend upon me for taking care that no tenant has more 
103:019,08[Q  ]| than his just rights.  I venture to hint, that $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot 
103:019,09[Q  ]| cannot be half so jealous for his own, as $PN#Q$John*Shepherd 
103:019,10[Q  ]| will be for him." 
103:019,11['  ]| Here $PN#A$Anne spoke, ~~ 
103:019,12[A  ]| "The navy, I think, who have done so much for us, 
103:019,13[A  ]| have at least an equal claim with any other set of men, for 
103:019,14[A  ]| all the comforts and all the privileges which any home 
103:019,15[A  ]| can give.  Sailors work hard enough for their comforts, 
103:019,16[A  ]| we must all allow." 
103:019,17[Q  ]| "Very true, very true.  What $PN#A$Miss*Anne says, is very 
103:019,18[Q  ]| true," 
103:019,18['  ]| was $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd's rejoinder, and 
103:019,18[C  ]| "Oh! certainly," 
103:019,19['  ]| was his daughter's; but $PN#G$Sir*Walter's remark 
103:019,20['  ]| was, soon afterwards ~~ 
103:019,21[G  ]| "The profession has its utility, but I should be sorry 
103:019,22[G  ]| to see any friend of mine belonging to it." 
103:019,23[C  ]| "Indeed!" 
103:019,23['  ]| was the reply, and with a look of surprise. 
103:019,24[G  ]| "Yes; it is in two points offensive to me; I have 
103:019,25[G  ]| two strong grounds of objection to it.  First, as being 
103:019,26[G  ]| the means of bringing persons of obscure birth into undue 
103:019,27[G  ]| distinction, and raising men to honours which their fathers 
103:019,28[G  ]| and grandfathers never dreamt of; and secondly, as it 
103:019,29[G  ]| cuts up a man's youth and vigour most horribly; a sailor 
103:019,30[G  ]| grows old sooner than any other man; I have observed 
103:019,31[G  ]| it all my life.  A man is in greater danger in the navy of 
103:019,32[G  ]| being insulted by the rise of one whose father, his father 
103:019,33[G  ]| might have disdained to speak to, and of becoming 
103:019,34[G  ]| prematurely an object of disgust himself, than in any 
103:019,35[G  ]| other line.  One day last spring, in town, I was in company 
103:019,36[G  ]| with two men, striking instances of what I am talking of, 
103:019,37[G  ]| $PN#ZZC$Lord*St%*Ives whose father we all know to have been 
103:019,38[G  ]| a country curate, without bread to eat; I was to give 
103:020,01[G  ]| place to $PN#ZZC$Lord*St%*Ives, and a certain $PN#ZC$Admiral*Baldwin, 
103:020,02[G  ]| the most deplorable looking personage you can imagine, 
103:020,03[G  ]| his face the colour of mahogany, rough and rugged to 
103:020,04[G  ]| the last degree, all lines and wrinkles, nine grey hairs of 
103:020,05[G  ]| a side, and nothing but a dab of powder at top. ~~ ""In 
103:020,06[G  ]| the name of heaven, who is that old fellow?"" said I, to 
103:020,07[G  ]| a friend of mine who was standing near, ($PN#ZX$Sir*Basil*Morley.) 
103:020,08@w   | ""Old fellow!"" 
103:020,08[G  ]| cried $PN#W$Sir*Basil, 
103:020,08@w   | ""it is $PN#ZC$Admiral*Baldwin. 
103:020,09@w   | What do you take his age to be?""  
103:020,09[G  ]| ""Sixty,"" said I, ""or 
103:020,10[G  ]| perhaps sixty-two.""  
103:020,10@w   | ""Forty,"" 
103:020,10[G  ]| replied $PN#W$Sir*Basil, 
103:020,10@w   | ""forty, 
103:020,11@w   | and no more.""  
103:020,11[G  ]| Picture to yourselves my amazement; 
103:020,12[G  ]| I shall not easily forget $PN#ZC$Admiral*Baldwin.  I never saw 
103:020,13[G  ]| quite so wretched an example of what a sea-faring life 
103:020,14[G  ]| can do; but to a degree, I know it is the same with them 
103:020,15[G  ]| all:  they are all knocked about, and exposed to every 
103:020,16[G  ]| climate, and every weather, till they are not fit to be 
103:020,17[G  ]| seen.  It is a pity they are not knocked on the head at 
103:020,18[G  ]| once, before they reach $PN#ZC$Admiral*Baldwin's age." 
103:020,19[C  ]| "Nay, $PN#G$Sir*Walter," 
103:020,19['  ]| cried $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay, 
103:020,19[C  ]| "this is being 
103:020,20[C  ]| severe indeed.  Have a little mercy on the poor men. 
103:020,21[C  ]| We are not all born$1#1$ to be handsome.  The sea is no 
103:020,22[C  ]| beautifier, certainly; sailors do grow old betimes; I 
103:020,23[C  ]| have often observed it; they soon lose the look of youth. 
103:020,24[C  ]| But then, is not it the same with many other professions, 
103:020,25[C  ]| perhaps most other?  Soldiers, in active service, are not 
103:020,26[C  ]| at all better off:  and even in the quieter professions, 
103:020,27[C  ]| there is a toil and a labour of the mind, if not the body, 
103:020,28[C  ]| which seldom leaves a man's looks to the natural effect 
103:020,29[C  ]| of time.  The lawyer plods, quite care-worn; the physician 
103:020,30[C  ]| is up at all hours, and travelling in all weather; and 
103:020,31[C  ]| even the clergyman ~" 
103:020,31['  ]| she stopt a moment to consider 
103:020,32['  ]| what might do for the clergyman; ~~ 
103:020,32[C  ]| "and even the clergyman, 
103:020,33[C  ]| you know, is obliged to go into infected rooms, and 
103:020,34[C  ]| expose his health and looks to all the injury of a poisonous 
103:020,35[C  ]| atmosphere.  In fact, as I have long been convinced, 
103:020,36[C  ]| though every profession is necessary and honourable in 
103:020,37[C  ]| its turn, it is only the lot of those who are not obliged 
103:020,38[C  ]| to follow any, who can live in a regular way, in the 
103:021,01[C  ]| country, choosing their own hours, following their own 
103:021,02[C  ]| pursuits, and living on their own property, without the 
103:021,03[C  ]| torment of trying for more; it is only \their\ lot, I say, to 
103:021,04[C  ]| hold the blessings of health and a good appearance to 
103:021,05[C  ]| the utmost:  I know no other set of men but what lose 
103:021,06[C  ]| something of their personableness when they cease to be 
103:021,07[C  ]| quite young." 
103:021,08['  ]| It seemed as if $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd, in this anxiety to bespeak 
103:021,09['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter's goodwill towards a naval officer as tenant, 
103:021,10['  ]| had been gifted with foresight; for the very first application 
103:021,11['  ]| for the house was from an $PN#D$Admiral*Croft, with whom 
103:021,12['  ]| he shortly afterwards fell into company in attending the 
103:021,13['  ]| quarter*sessions at Taunton; and indeed, he had received 
103:021,14['  ]| a hint of the $PN#D$admiral from a London correspondent.  By 
103:021,15['  ]| the report which he hastened over to Kellynch to make, 
103:021,16@q   | $PN#D$Admiral*Croft was a native of Somersetshire, who having 
103:021,17@q   | acquired a very handsome fortune, was wishing to settle 
103:021,18@q   | in his own country, and had come down to Taunton in 
103:021,19@q   | order to look at some advertised places in that immediate 
103:021,20@q   | neighbourhood, which, however, had not suited him; 
103:021,21@q   | that accidentally hearing ~~ (it was just as he had foretold, 
103:021,22['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd observed, 
103:021,22@q   | $PN#G$Sir*Walter's concerns could not 
103:021,23@q   | be kept a secret,) ~~ accidentally hearing of the possibility 
103:021,24@q   | of Kellynch*Hall being to let, and understanding his 
103:021,25['  ]| ($PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd's) 
103:021,25@q   | connection with the owner, he had 
103:021,26@q   | introduced himself to him in order to make particular 
103:021,27@q   | inquiries, and had, in the course of a pretty long conference, 
103:021,28@q   | expressed as strong an inclination for the place 
103:021,29@q   | as a man who knew it only by description, could feel; 
103:021,30@q   | and given $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd, in his explicit account of himself, 
103:021,31@q   | every proof of his being a most responsible, eligible 
103:021,32@q   | tenant. 
103:021,33[G  ]| "And who is $PN#D$Admiral*Croft?" 
103:021,33['  ]| was $PN#G$Sir*Walter's cold 
103:021,34['  ]| suspicious inquiry. 
103:021,35['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd answered for his being of a gentleman's 
103:021,36['  ]| family, and mentioned a place; and $PN#A$Anne, after the 
103:021,37['  ]| little pause which followed, added ~~ 
103:021,38[A  ]| "He is rear*admiral of the white.  He was in the 
103:022,01[A  ]| Trafalgar action, and has been in the East*Indies since; 
103:022,02[A  ]| he has been stationed there, I believe, several years." 
103:022,03[G  ]| "Then I take it for granted," 
103:022,03['  ]| observed $PN#G$Sir*Walter, 
103:022,04[G  ]| "that his face is about as orange as the cuffs and capes 
103:022,05[G  ]| of my livery." 
103:022,06['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd hastened to assure him, that 
103:022,06@q   | $PN#D$Admiral*Croft 
103:022,07@q   | was a very hale, hearty, well-looking man, a little 
103:022,08@q   | weather-beaten, to be sure, but not much; and quite 
103:022,09@q   | the gentleman in all his notions and behaviour; ~~ not 
103:022,10@q   | likely to make the smallest difficulty about terms; ~~ only 
103:022,11@q   | wanted a comfortable home, and to get into it as soon as 
103:022,12@q   | possible; ~~ knew he must pay for his convenience; ~~ 
103:022,13@q   | knew what rent a ready-furnished house of that consequence 
103:022,14@q   | might fetch; ~~ should not have been surprised 
103:022,15@q   | if $PN#G$Sir*Walter had asked more; ~~ had inquired 
103:022,16@q   | about the manor; ~~ would be glad of the deputation, 
103:022,17@q   | certainly, but made no great point of it; ~~ said he sometimes 
103:022,18@q   | took out a gun, but never killed; ~~ quite the 
103:022,19@q   | gentleman. 
103:022,20['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd was eloquent on the subject; pointing 
103:022,21['  ]| out all the circumstances of the $PN#D$admiral's family, which 
103:022,22['  ]| made him peculiarly desirable as a tenant. 
103:022,22@q   | He was 
103:022,23@q   | a married man, and without children; the very state 
103:022,24@q   | to be wished for.  A house was never taken good care 
103:022,25@q   | of, 
103:022,25['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd observed, 
103:022,25@q   | without a lady:  he did not 
103:022,26@q   | know, whether furniture might not be in danger of suffering 
103:022,27@q   | as much where there was no lady, as where there were 
103:022,28@q   | many children.  A lady, without a family, was the very 
103:022,29@q   | best preserver of furniture in the world.  He had seen 
103:022,30@q   | $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, too; she was at Taunton with the admiral, 
103:022,31@q   | and had been present almost all the time they were talking 
103:022,32@q   | the matter over. 
103:022,33[Q  ]| "And a very well-spoken, genteel, shrewd lady, she 
103:022,34[Q  ]| seemed to be," 
103:022,34['  ]| continued he; 
103:022,34[Q  ]| "asked more questions 
103:022,35[Q  ]| about the house, and terms, and taxes, than the $PN#D$admiral 
103:022,36[Q  ]| himself, and seemed more conversant with business.  And 
103:022,37[Q  ]| moreover, $PN#G$Sir*Walter, I found she was not quite unconnected 
103:022,38[Q  ]| in this country, any more than her husband; 
103:023,01[Q  ]| that is to say, she is sister to a gentleman who did live 
103:023,02[Q  ]| amongst us once; she told me so herself:  sister to the 
103:023,03[Q  ]| gentleman who lived a few years back, at Monkford. 
103:023,04[Q  ]| Bless me! what was his name?  At this moment I 
103:023,05[Q  ]| cannot recollect his name, though I have heard it so 
103:023,06[Q  ]| lately.  $PN#C$Penelope, my dear, can you help me to the name 
103:023,07[Q  ]| of the gentleman who lived at Monkford ~~ $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft's 
103:023,08[Q  ]| brother?" 
103:023,09['  ]| But $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay was talking so eagerly with $PN#H$Miss*Elliot, 
103:023,10['  ]| that she did not hear the appeal. 
103:023,11[G  ]| "I have no conception whom you can mean, $PN#Q$Shepherd; 
103:023,12[G  ]| I remember no gentleman resident at Monkford since the 
103:023,13[G  ]| time of old $PN#ZZL$Governor*Trent." 
103:023,14[Q  ]| "Bless me! how very odd!  I shall forget my own 
103:023,15[Q  ]| name soon, I suppose.  A name that I am so very well 
103:023,16[Q  ]| acquainted with; knew the gentleman so well by sight; 
103:023,17[Q  ]| seen him a hundred times; came to consult me once, 
103:023,18[Q  ]| I remember, about a trespass of one of his neighbours; 
103:023,19[Q  ]| farmer's man breaking into his orchard ~~ wall torn down ~~ 
103:023,20[Q  ]| apples stolen ~~ caught in the fact; and afterwards, 
103:023,21[Q  ]| contrary to my judgment, submitted to an amicable 
103:023,22[Q  ]| compromise.  Very odd indeed!" 
103:023,23['  ]| After waiting another moment ~~ 
103:023,24[A  ]| "You mean $PN#ZZO$Mr%*Wentworth, I suppose," 
103:023,24['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne. 
103:023,25['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd was all gratitude. 
103:023,26[Q  ]| "$PN#ZZO$Wentworth was the very name!  $PN#ZZO$Mr%*Wentworth 
103:023,27[Q  ]| was the very man.  He had the curacy of Monkford, you 
103:023,28[Q  ]| know, $PN#G$Sir*Walter, some time back, for two or three years. 
103:023,29[Q  ]| Came there about the year **5, I take it.  You remember 
103:023,30[Q  ]| him, I am sure." 
103:023,31[G  ]| "$PN#ZZO$Wentworth?  Oh! ay, ~~ $PN#ZZO$Mr%*Wentworth, the curate 
103:023,32[G  ]| of Monkford.  You misled me by the term \gentleman\. 
103:023,33[G  ]| I thought you were speaking of some man of property: 
103:023,34[G  ]| $PN#ZZO$Mr%*Wentworth was nobody, I remember; quite unconnected; 
103:023,35[G  ]| nothing to do with the $PN#Z1$Strafford family.  One 
103:023,36[G  ]| wonders how the names of many of our nobility become 
103:023,37[G  ]| so common." 
103:023,38['  ]| As $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd perceived that this connexion of the 
103:024,01['  ]| $PN#D1$Crofts did them no service with $PN#G$Sir*Walter, he mentioned 
103:024,02['  ]| it no more; returning, with all his zeal, to dwell on the 
103:024,03['  ]| circumstances more indisputably in their favour; their 
103:024,04['  ]| age, and number, and fortune; the high idea they had 
103:024,05['  ]| formed of Kellynch*Hall, and extreme solicitude for the 
103:024,06['  ]| advantage of renting it; making it appear as if they 
103:024,07['  ]| ranked nothing beyond the happiness of being the tenants 
103:024,08['  ]| of $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot:  an extraordinary taste, certainly, 
103:024,09['  ]| could they have been supposed in the secret of $PN#G$Sir*Walter's 
103:024,10['  ]| estimate of the dues of a tenant. 
103:024,11['  ]| It succeeded, however; and though $PN#G$Sir*Walter must 
103:024,12['  ]| ever look with an evil eye on any*one intending to inhabit 
103:024,13['  ]| that house, and think them infinitely too well off in being 
103:024,14['  ]| permitted to rent it on the highest terms, he was talked 
103:024,15['  ]| into allowing $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd to proceed in the treaty, and 
103:024,16['  ]| authorising him to wait on $PN#D$Admiral*Croft, who still 
103:024,17['  ]| remained at Taunton, and fix a day for the house being 
103:024,18['  ]| seen. 
103:024,19['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter was not very wise; but still he had experience 
103:024,20['  ]| enough of the world to feel, that a more unobjectionable 
103:024,21['  ]| tenant, in all essentials, than $PN#D$Admiral*Croft bid fair 
103:024,22['  ]| to be, could hardly offer.  So far went his understanding; 
103:024,23['  ]| and his vanity supplied a little additional soothing, in 
103:024,24['  ]| the $PN#D$admiral's situation in life, which was just high enough, 
103:024,25['  ]| and not too high.  "I have let my house to $PN#D$Admiral*Croft," 
103:024,26['  ]| would sound extremely well; very much better 
103:024,27['  ]| than to any mere \$PN#X$Mr%\*****; a \$PN#X$Mr%\ (save, perhaps, some 
103:024,28['  ]| half*dozen in the nation,) always needs a note of explanation. 
103:024,29['  ]| An admiral speaks his own consequence, and, at 
103:024,30['  ]| the same time, can never make a baronet look small.  In 
103:024,31['  ]| all their dealings and intercourse, $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot must 
103:024,32['  ]| ever have the precedence. 
103:024,33['  ]| Nothing could be done without a reference to $PN#H$Elizabeth; 
103:024,34['  ]| but her inclination was growing so strong for a removal, 
103:024,35['  ]| that she was happy to have it fixed and expedited by 
103:024,36['  ]| a tenant at hand; and not a word to suspend decision 
103:024,37['  ]| was uttered by her. 
103:024,38['  ]| $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd was completely empowered to act; and 
103:025,01['  ]| no sooner had such an end been reached, than $PN#A$Anne, 
103:025,02['  ]| who had been a most attentive listener to the whole, 
103:025,03['  ]| left the room, to seek the comfort of cool air for her 
103:025,04['  ]| flushed cheeks; and as she walked along a favourite 
103:025,05['  ]| grove, said, with a gentle sigh, 
103:025,05[A  ]| "a few months more, and 
103:025,06[A  ]| \he\, perhaps, may be walking here." 
104:026,01['  ]| \He\ was not $PN#ZZO$Mr%*Wentworth, the former curate of Monkford, 
104:026,02['  ]| however suspicious appearances may be, but a 
104:026,03['  ]| $PN#B$captain*Frederick*Wentworth, his brother, who being 
104:026,04['  ]| made commander in consequence of the action off 
104:026,05['  ]| St%*Domingo, and not immediately employed, had come 
104:026,06['  ]| into Somersetshire, in the summer of 1806; and having 
104:026,07['  ]| no parent living, found a home for half a year, at Monkford. 
104:026,08['  ]| He was, at that time, a remarkably fine young 
104:026,09['  ]| man, with a great deal of intelligence, spirit and brilliancy; 
104:026,10['  ]| and $PN#A$Anne an extremely pretty girl, with gentleness, 
104:026,11['  ]| modesty, taste, and feeling. ~~ Half the sum of attraction, 
104:026,12['  ]| on either side, might have been enough, for he had nothing 
104:026,13['  ]| to do, and she had hardly any*body to love; but the 
104:026,14['  ]| encounter of such lavish recommendations could not fail. 
104:026,15['  ]| They were gradually acquainted, and when acquainted, 
104:026,16['  ]| rapidly and deeply in love.  It would be difficult to say 
104:026,17['  ]| which had seen highest perfection in the other, or which 
104:026,18['  ]| had been the happiest; she, in receiving his declarations 
104:026,19['  ]| and proposals, or he in having them accepted. 
104:026,20['  ]| A short period of exquisite felicity followed, and but 
104:026,21['  ]| a short one. ~~ Troubles soon arose.  $PN#G$Sir*Walter, on being 
104:026,22['  ]| applied to, without actually withholding his consent, or 
104:026,23['  ]| saying it should never be, gave it all the negative of great 
104:026,24['  ]| astonishment, great coldness, great silence, and a professed 
104:026,25['  ]| resolution of doing nothing for his daughter.  He 
104:026,26['  ]| thought it a very degrading alliance; and $PN#K$Lady*Russell, 
104:026,27['  ]| though with more tempered and pardonable pride, 
104:026,28['  ]| received it as a most unfortunate one. 
104:026,29@k   | $PN#A$Anne*Elliot, with all her claims of birth, beauty, and 
104:026,30@k   | mind, to throw herself away at nineteen; involve herself 
104:026,31@k   | at nineteen in an engagement with a young man, who 
104:026,32@k   | had nothing but himself to recommend him, and no hopes 
104:026,33@k   | of attaining affluence, but in the chances of a most uncertain 
104:027,01@k   | profession, and no connexions to secure even his 
104:027,02@k   | farther rise in that profession; would be, indeed, a 
104:027,03@k   | throwing away, which she grieved to think of!  $PN#A$Anne*Elliot, 
104:027,04@k   | so young; known to so few, to be snatched off 
104:027,05@k   | by a stranger without alliance or fortune; or rather sunk 
104:027,06@k   | by him into a state of most wearing, anxious, youth-killing 
104:027,07@k   | dependance!  It must not be, if by any fair 
104:027,08@k   | interference of friendship, any representations from one 
104:027,09@k   | who had almost a mother's love, and mother's rights, it 
104:027,10@k   | would be prevented. 
104:027,11['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth had no fortune.  He had been 
104:027,12['  ]| lucky in his profession, but spending freely, what had 
104:027,13['  ]| come freely, had realized nothing.  But, he was confident 
104:027,14['  ]| that he should soon be rich; ~~ full of life and ardour, he 
104:027,15['  ]| knew that 
104:027,15@b   | he should soon have a ship, and soon be on 
104:027,16@b   | a station that would lead to every*thing he wanted.  He 
104:027,17@b   | had always been lucky; he knew he should be so still. ~~ 
104:027,18['  ]| Such confidence, powerful in its own warmth, and bewitching 
104:027,19['  ]| in the wit which often expressed it, must have 
104:027,20['  ]| been enough for $PN#A$Anne; but $PN#K$Lady*Russell saw it very 
104:027,21['  ]| differently. ~~ His sanguine temper, and fearlessness of 
104:027,22['  ]| mind, operated very differently on her.  She saw in it 
104:027,23['  ]| but an aggravation of the evil. 
104:027,23@k   | It only added a dangerous 
104:027,24@k   | character to himself.  He was brilliant, he was headstrong. 
104:027,25['  ]| ~~ $PN#K$Lady*Russell had little taste for wit; and of any*thing 
104:027,26['  ]| approaching to imprudence a horror.  She deprecated 
104:027,27['  ]| the connexion in every light. 
104:027,28['  ]| Such opposition, as these feelings produced, was more 
104:027,29['  ]| than $PN#A$Anne could combat.  Young and gentle as she was, 
104:027,30['  ]| it might yet have been possible to withstand her father's 
104:027,31['  ]| ill-will, though unsoftened by one kind word or look on 
104:027,32['  ]| the part of her sister; ~~ but $PN#K$Lady*Russell, whom she had 
104:027,33['  ]| always loved and relied on, could not, with such steadiness 
104:027,34['  ]| of opinion, and such tenderness of manner, be continually 
104:027,35['  ]| advising her in vain.  She was persuaded to believe the 
104:027,36['  ]| engagement a wrong thing ~~ indiscreet, improper, hardly 
104:027,37['  ]| capable of success, and not deserving it.  But it was not 
104:027,38['  ]| a merely selfish caution, under which she acted, in putting 
104:028,01['  ]| an end to it.  Had she not imagined herself consulting 
104:028,02['  ]| his good, even more than her own, she could hardly have 
104:028,03['  ]| given him up. ~~ The belief of being prudent, and self-denying 
104:028,04['  ]| principally for \his\ advantage, was her chief 
104:028,05['  ]| consolation, under the misery of a parting ~~ a final 
104:028,06['  ]| parting; and every consolation was required, for she had 
104:028,07['  ]| to encounter all the additional pain of opinions, on his 
104:028,08['  ]| side, totally unconvinced and unbending, and of his 
104:028,09['  ]| feeling himself ill-used by so forced a relinquishment. ~~ He 
104:028,10['  ]| had left the country in consequence. 
104:028,11['  ]| A few months had seen the beginning and the end of 
104:028,12['  ]| their acquaintance; but, not with a few months ended 
104:028,13['  ]| $PN#A$Anne's share of suffering from it.  Her attachment and 
104:028,14['  ]| regrets had, for a long time, clouded every enjoyment of 
104:028,15['  ]| youth; and an early loss of bloom and spirits had been 
104:028,16['  ]| their lasting effect. 
104:028,17['  ]| More than seven years were gone since this little history 
104:028,18['  ]| of sorrowful interest had reached its close; and time had 
104:028,19['  ]| softened down much, perhaps nearly all of peculiar 
104:028,20['  ]| attachment to him, ~~ but she had been too dependant 
104:028,21['  ]| on time alone; no aid had been given in change of place, 
104:028,22['  ]| (except in one visit to Bath soon after the rupture,) or 
104:028,23['  ]| in any novelty or enlargement of society. ~~ No*one had 
104:028,24['  ]| ever come within the Kellynch circle, who could bear 
104:028,25['  ]| a comparison with $PN#B$Frederick*Wentworth, as he stood in 
104:028,26['  ]| her memory.  No second attachment, the only thoroughly 
104:028,27['  ]| natural, happy, and sufficient cure, at her time of life, 
104:028,28['  ]| had been possible to the nice tone of her mind, the 
104:028,29['  ]| fastidiousness of her taste, in the small limits of the society 
104:028,30['  ]| around them.  She had been solicited, when about two-and-twenty, 
104:028,31['  ]| to change her name, by the young man, who 
104:028,32['  ]| not long afterwards found a more willing mind in her 
104:028,33['  ]| younger sister; and $PN#K$Lady*Russell had lamented her 
104:028,34['  ]| refusal; for $PN#O$Charles*Musgrove was the eldest son of 
104:028,35['  ]| a man, whose landed property and general importance, 
104:028,36['  ]| were second, in that country, only to $PN#G$Sir*Walter's, and of 
104:028,37['  ]| good character and appearance; and however $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
104:028,38['  ]| might have asked yet for something more, while 
104:029,01['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was nineteen, she would have rejoiced to see her 
104:029,02['  ]| at twenty-two, so respectably removed from the partialities 
104:029,03['  ]| and injustice of her father's house, and settled so permanently 
104:029,04['  ]| near herself.  But in this case, $PN#A$Anne had left 
104:029,05['  ]| nothing for advice to do; and though $PN#K$Lady*Russell, as 
104:029,06['  ]| satisfied as ever with her own discretion, never wished 
104:029,07['  ]| the past undone, she began now to have the anxiety 
104:029,08['  ]| which borders on hopelessness for $PN#A$Anne's being tempted, 
104:029,09['  ]| by some man of talents and independence, to enter 
104:029,10['  ]| a state for which she held her to be peculiarly fitted by 
104:029,11['  ]| her warm affections and domestic habits. 
104:029,12['  ]| They knew not each other's opinion, either its constancy 
104:029,13['  ]| or its change, on the one leading point of $PN#A$Anne's conduct, 
104:029,14['  ]| for the subject was never alluded to, ~~ but $PN#A$Anne, at seven*and*twenty, 
104:029,15['  ]| thought very differently from what she had 
104:029,16['  ]| been made to think at nineteen. ~~ She did not blame 
104:029,17['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell, she did not blame herself for having been 
104:029,18['  ]| guided by her; but she felt that 
104:029,18@a   | were any young person, 
104:029,19@a   | in similar circumstances, to apply to her for counsel, 
104:029,20@a   | they would never receive any of such certain immediate 
104:029,21@a   | wretchedness, such uncertain future good. ~~ 
104:029,21['  ]| She was 
104:029,22['  ]| persuaded that under every disadvantage of disapprobation 
104:029,23['  ]| at home, and every anxiety attending his profession, 
104:029,24['  ]| all their probable fears, delays and disappointments, she 
104:029,25['  ]| should yet have been a happier woman in maintaining 
104:029,26['  ]| the engagement, than she had been in the sacrifice of it; 
104:029,27['  ]| and this, she fully believed, had the usual share, had even 
104:029,28['  ]| more than a usual share of all such solicitudes and suspense 
104:029,29['  ]| been theirs, without reference to the actual results 
104:029,30['  ]| of their case, which, as it happened, would have bestowed 
104:029,31['  ]| earlier prosperity than could be reasonably calculated on. 
104:029,32['  ]| All his sanguine expectations, all his confidence had been 
104:029,33['  ]| justified.  His genius and ardour had seemed to foresee 
104:029,34['  ]| and to command his prosperous path.  He had, very 
104:029,35['  ]| soon after their engagement ceased, got employ; and all 
104:029,36['  ]| that he had told her would follow, had taken place.  He 
104:029,37['  ]| had distinguished himself, and early gained the other step 
104:029,38['  ]| in rank ~~ and must now, by successive captures, have 
104:030,01['  ]| made a handsome fortune.  She had only navy*lists and 
104:030,02['  ]| newspapers for her authority, but she could not doubt 
104:030,03['  ]| his being rich; ~~ and, in favour of his constancy, she had 
104:030,04['  ]| no reason to believe him married. 
104:030,05['  ]| How eloquent could $PN#A$Anne*Elliot have been, ~~ how 
104:030,06['  ]| eloquent, at least, were her wishes on the side of early 
104:030,07['  ]| warm attachment, and a cheerful confidence in futurity, 
104:030,08['  ]| against that over-anxious caution which seems to insult 
104:030,09['  ]| exertion and distrust Providence! ~~ She had been forced 
104:030,10['  ]| into prudence in her youth, she learned romance as she 
104:030,11['  ]| grew older ~~ the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning. 
104:030,12['  ]| With all these circumstances, recollections and feelings, 
104:030,13['  ]| she could not hear that $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's sister was 
104:030,14['  ]| likely to live at Kellynch, without a revival of former pain; 
104:030,15['  ]| and many a stroll and many a sigh were necessary to 
104:030,16['  ]| dispel the agitation of the idea.  She often told herself 
104:030,17['  ]| it was folly, before she could harden her nerves sufficiently 
104:030,18['  ]| to feel the continual discussion of the $PN#D1$Crofts and their 
104:030,19['  ]| business no evil.  She was assisted, however, by that 
104:030,20['  ]| perfect indifference and apparent unconsciousness, among 
104:030,21['  ]| the only three of her own friends in the secret of the past, 
104:030,22['  ]| which seemed almost to deny any recollection of it.  She 
104:030,23['  ]| could do justice to the superiority of $PN#K$Lady*Russell's 
104:030,24['  ]| motives in this, over those of her father and $PN#H$Elizabeth; 
104:030,25['  ]| she could honour all the better feelings of her calmness ~~ 
104:030,26['  ]| but the general air of oblivion among them was highly 
104:030,27['  ]| important, from whatever it sprung; and in the event 
104:030,28['  ]| of $PN#D$Admiral*Croft's really taking Kellynch-hall, she 
104:030,29['  ]| rejoiced anew over the conviction which had always been 
104:030,30['  ]| most grateful to her, of the past being known to those 
104:030,31['  ]| three only among her connexions, by whom no syllable, 
104:030,32['  ]| she believed, would ever be whispered, and in the trust 
104:030,33['  ]| that among his, the brother only with whom he had been 
104:030,34['  ]| residing, had received any information of their short-lived 
104:030,35['  ]| engagement. ~~ That brother had been long removed from 
104:030,36['  ]| the country ~~ and being a sensible man, and, moreover, 
104:030,37['  ]| a single man at the time, she had a fond dependance on 
104:030,38['  ]| no human creature's having heard of it from him. 
104:031,01['  ]| The sister, $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, had then been out of England, 
104:031,02['  ]| accompanying her husband on a foreign station, and her 
104:031,03['  ]| own sister, $PN#P$Mary, had been at school while it all occurred ~~ 
104:031,04['  ]| and never admitted by the pride of some, and the delicacy 
104:031,05['  ]| of others, to the smallest knowledge of it afterwards. 
104:031,06['  ]| With these supports, she hoped that the acquaintance 
104:031,07['  ]| between herself and the $PN#D1$Crofts, which, with $PN#K$Lady*Russell, 
104:031,08['  ]| still resident in Kellynch, and $PN#P$Mary fixed only three miles 
104:031,09['  ]| off, must be anticipated, need not involve any particular 
104:031,10['  ]| awkwardness. 
105:032,01['  ]| On the morning appointed for $PN#D$Admiral and $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft's 
105:032,02['  ]| seeing Kellynch-hall, $PN#A$Anne found it most natural to take 
105:032,03['  ]| her almost daily walk to $PN#K$Lady*Russell's, and keep out 
105:032,04['  ]| of the way till all was over; when she found it most 
105:032,05['  ]| natural to be sorry that she had missed the opportunity of 
105:032,06['  ]| seeing them. 
105:032,07['  ]| This meeting of the two parties proved highly satisfactory, 
105:032,08['  ]| and decided the whole business at once.  Each lady 
105:032,09['  ]| was previously well*disposed for an agreement, and saw 
105:032,10['  ]| nothing, therefore, but good manners in the other; and, 
105:032,11['  ]| with regard to the gentlemen, there was such an hearty 
105:032,12['  ]| good*humour, such an open, trusting liberality on the 
105:032,13['  ]| $PN#D$Admiral's side, as could not but influence $PN#G$Sir*Walter, who 
105:032,14['  ]| had besides been flattered into his very best and most 
105:032,15['  ]| polished behaviour by $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd's assurances of his 
105:032,16['  ]| being known, by report, to the $PN#D$Admiral, as a model of 
105:032,17['  ]| good*breeding. 
105:032,18['  ]| The house and grounds, and furniture, were approved, 
105:032,19['  ]| the $PN#D1$Crofts were approved, terms, time, every*thing, and 
105:032,20['  ]| every*body, was right; and $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd's clerks were 
105:032,21['  ]| set to work, without there having been a single preliminary 
105:032,22['  ]| difference to modify of all that "This indenture sheweth." 
105:032,23['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter, without hesitation, declared 
105:032,23@g   | the $PN#D$Admiral 
105:032,24@g   | to be the best-looking sailor he had ever met with, 
105:032,24['  ]| and 
105:032,25['  ]| went so far as to say, that, 
105:032,25@g   | if his own man might have 
105:032,26@g   | had the arranging of his hair, he should not be ashamed 
105:032,27@g   | of being seen with him any*where; 
105:032,27['  ]| and the $PN#D$Admiral, 
105:032,28['  ]| with sympathetic cordiality, observed to his wife as they 
105:032,29['  ]| drove back through the Park, 
105:032,29[D  ]| "I thought we should 
105:032,30[D  ]| soon come to a deal, my dear, in spite of what they told 
105:032,31[D  ]| us at Taunton.  The baronet will never set the Thames on 
105:032,32[D  ]| fire, but there seems no harm in him:" ~~ 
105:032,32['  ]| reciprocal compliments, 
105:032,33['  ]| which would have been esteemed about equal. 
105:033,01['  ]| The $PN#D1$Crofts were to have possession at Michaelmas, and 
105:033,02['  ]| as $PN#G$Sir*Walter proposed removing to Bath in the course 
105:033,03['  ]| of the preceding month, there was no time to be lost in 
105:033,04['  ]| making every dependant arrangement. 
105:033,05['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell, convinced that $PN#A$Anne would not be 
105:033,06['  ]| allowed to be of any use, or any importance, in the choice 
105:033,07['  ]| of the house which they were going to secure, was very 
105:033,08['  ]| unwilling to have her hurried away so soon, and wanted 
105:033,09['  ]| to make it possible for her to stay behind, till she might 
105:033,10['  ]| convey her to Bath herself after Christmas; but having 
105:033,11['  ]| engagements of her own, which must take her from 
105:033,12['  ]| Kellynch for several weeks, she was unable to give the 
105:033,13['  ]| full invitation she wished; and $PN#A$Anne, though dreading 
105:033,14['  ]| the possible heats of September in all the white glare of 
105:033,15['  ]| Bath, and grieving to forego all the influence so sweet 
105:033,16['  ]| and so sad of the autumnal months in the country, did 
105:033,17['  ]| not think that, every*thing considered, she wished to 
105:033,18['  ]| remain. 
105:033,18@a   | It would be most right, and most wise, and, 
105:033,19@a   | therefore, must involve least suffering, to go with the 
105:033,20@a   | others. 
105:033,21['  ]| Something occurred, however, to give her a different 
105:033,22['  ]| duty.  $PN#P$Mary, often a little unwell, and always thinking 
105:033,23['  ]| a great deal of her own complaints, and always in the 
105:033,24['  ]| habit of claiming $PN#A$Anne when any*thing was the matter, 
105:033,25['  ]| was indisposed; and foreseeing that she should not have 
105:033,26['  ]| a day's health all the autumn, entreated, or rather 
105:033,27['  ]| required her, for it was hardly entreaty, to come to Uppercross*Cottage, 
105:033,28['  ]| and bear her company as long as she 
105:033,29['  ]| should want her, instead of going to Bath. 
105:033,30[P  ]| "I cannot possibly do without $PN#A$Anne," 
105:033,30['  ]| was $PN#P$Mary's 
105:033,31['  ]| reasoning; and $PN#H$Elizabeth's reply was, 
105:033,31[H  ]| "Then I am sure 
105:033,32[H  ]| $PN#A$Anne had better stay, for nobody will want her in Bath." 
105:033,33['  ]| To be claimed as a good, though in an improper style, 
105:033,34['  ]| is at least better than being rejected as no good at all; 
105:033,35['  ]| and $PN#A$Anne, glad to be thought of some use, glad to have 
105:033,36['  ]| any*thing marked out as a duty, and certainly not sorry 
105:033,37['  ]| to have the scene of it in the country, and her own dear 
105:033,38['  ]| country, readily agreed to stay. 
105:034,01['  ]| This invitation of $PN#P$Mary's removed all $PN#K$Lady*Russell's 
105:034,02['  ]| difficulties, and it was consequently soon settled that 
105:034,03['  ]| $PN#A$Anne should not go to Bath till $PN#K$Lady*Russell took her, 
105:034,04['  ]| and that all the intervening time should be divided 
105:034,05['  ]| between Uppercross*Cottage and Kellynch-lodge. 
105:034,06['  ]| So far all was perfectly right; but $PN#K$Lady*Russell was 
105:034,07['  ]| almost startled by the wrong of one part of the Kellynch-hall 
105:034,08['  ]| plan, when it burst on her, which was, $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay's 
105:034,09['  ]| being engaged to go to Bath with $PN#G$Sir*Walter and $PN#H$Elizabeth, 
105:034,10['  ]| as a most important and valuable assistant to the latter 
105:034,11['  ]| in all the business before her.  $PN#K$Lady*Russell was extremely 
105:034,12['  ]| sorry that such a measure should have been resorted to 
105:034,13['  ]| at all ~~ wondered, grieved, and feared ~~ and the affront 
105:034,14['  ]| it contained to $PN#A$Anne, in $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay's being of so much 
use, 
105:034,15['  ]| while $PN#A$Anne could be of none, was a very sore aggravation. 
105:034,16['  ]| $PN#A$Anne herself was become hardened to such affronts; 
105:034,17['  ]| but she felt the imprudence of the arrangement quite as 
105:034,18['  ]| keenly as $PN#K$Lady*Russell.  With a great deal of quiet 
105:034,19['  ]| observation, and a knowledge, which she often wished 
105:034,20['  ]| less, of her father's character, she was sensible that 
105:034,21['  ]| results the most serious to his family from the intimacy, 
105:034,22['  ]| were more than possible.  She did not imagine that her 
105:034,23['  ]| father had at present an idea of the kind.  $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay 
105:034,24['  ]| had freckles, and a projecting tooth, and a clumsy wrist, 
105:034,25['  ]| which he was continually making severe remarks upon, 
105:034,26['  ]| in her absence; but she was young, and certainly altogether 
105:034,27['  ]| well-looking, and possessed, in an acute mind and 
105:034,28['  ]| assiduous pleasing manners, infinitely more dangerous 
105:034,29['  ]| attractions than any merely personal might have been. 
105:034,30['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was so impressed by the degree of their danger, that 
105:034,31['  ]| she could not excuse herself from trying to make it perceptible 
105:034,32['  ]| to her sister.  She had little hope of success; 
105:034,33['  ]| but $PN#H$Elizabeth, who in the event of such a reverse would 
105:034,34['  ]| be so much more to be pitied than herself, should never, 
105:034,35['  ]| she thought, have reason to reproach her for giving no 
105:034,36['  ]| warning. 
105:034,37['  ]| She spoke, and seemed only to offend.  $PN#H$Elizabeth could 
105:034,38['  ]| not conceive how such an absurd suspicion should occur 
105:035,01['  ]| to her; and indignantly answered for each party's 
105:035,02['  ]| perfectly knowing their situation. 
105:035,03[H  ]| "$PN#C$Mrs%*Clay," 
105:035,03['  ]| said she warmly, 
105:035,03[H  ]| "never forgets who she 
105:035,04[H  ]| is; and as I am rather better acquainted with her sentiments 
105:035,05[H  ]| than you can be, I can assure you, that upon the 
105:035,06[H  ]| subject of marriage they are particularly nice; and that 
105:035,07[H  ]| she reprobates all inequality of condition and rank more 
105:035,08[H  ]| strongly than most people.  And as to my father, I really 
105:035,09[H  ]| should not have thought that he, who has kept himself 
105:035,10[H  ]| single so long for our sakes, need be suspected now.  If 
105:035,11[H  ]| $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay were a very beautiful woman, I grant you, it 
105:035,12[H  ]| might be wrong to have her so much with me; not that 
105:035,13[H  ]| any*thing in the world, I am sure, would induce my 
105:035,14[H  ]| father to make a degrading match; but he might be 
105:035,15[H  ]| rendered unhappy.  But poor $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay, who, with all 
105:035,16[H  ]| her merits, can never have been reckoned tolerably 
105:035,17[H  ]| pretty!  I really think poor $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay may be staying 
105:035,18[H  ]| here in perfect safety.  One would imagine you had never 
105:035,19[H  ]| heard my father speak of her personal misfortunes, 
105:035,20[H  ]| though I know you must fifty times.  That tooth of her's! 
105:035,21[H  ]| and those freckles!  Freckles do not disgust me so very 
105:035,22[H  ]| much as they do him:  I have known a face not materially 
105:035,23[H  ]| disfigured by a few, but he abominates them.  You must 
105:035,24[H  ]| have heard him notice $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay's freckles." 
105:035,25[A  ]| "There is hardly any personal defect," 
105:035,25['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne, 
105:035,26[A  ]| "which an agreeable manner might not gradually reconcile 
105:035,27[A  ]| one to." 
105:035,28[H  ]| "I think very differently," 
105:035,28['  ]| answered $PN#H$Elizabeth, 
105:035,29['  ]| shortly; 
105:035,29[H  ]| "an agreeable manner may set off handsome 
105:035,30[H  ]| features, but can never alter plain ones.  However, at 
105:035,31[H  ]| any rate, as I have a great deal more at stake on this 
105:035,32[H  ]| point than any*body else can have, I think it rather 
105:035,33[H  ]| unnecessary in you to be advising me." 
105:035,34['  ]| $PN#A$Anne had done ~~ glad that it was over, and not absolutely 
105:035,35['  ]| hopeless of doing good.  $PN#H$Elizabeth, though resenting 
105:035,36['  ]| the suspicion, might yet be made observant by it. 
105:035,37['  ]| The last office of the four carriage-horses was to draw 
105:035,38['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter, $PN#H$Miss*Elliot, and $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay to Bath.  The party 
105:036,01['  ]| drove off in very good spirits; $PN#G$Sir*Walter prepared with 
105:036,02['  ]| condescending bows for all the afflicted tenantry and 
105:036,03['  ]| cottagers who might have had a hint to shew themselves: 
105:036,04['  ]| and $PN#A$Anne walked up at the same time, in a sort of desolate 
105:036,05['  ]| tranquillity, to the Lodge, where she was to spend the 
105:036,06['  ]| first week. 
105:036,07['  ]| Her friend was not in better spirits than herself.  $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
105:036,08['  ]| felt this break-up of the family exceedingly. 
105:036,09['  ]| Their respectability was as dear to her as her own; and 
105:036,10['  ]| a daily intercourse had become precious by habit.  It was 
105:036,11['  ]| painful to look upon their deserted grounds, and still 
105:036,12['  ]| worse to anticipate the new hands they were to fall into; 
105:036,13['  ]| and to escape the solitariness and the melancholy of so 
105:036,14['  ]| altered a village, and be out of the way when $PN#D$Admiral 
105:036,15['  ]| and $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft first arrived, she had determined to make 
105:036,16['  ]| her own absence from home begin when she must give up 
105:036,17['  ]| $PN#A$Anne.  Accordingly their removal was made together, and 
105:036,18['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was set down at Uppercross*Cottage, in the first 
105:036,19['  ]| stage of $PN#K$Lady*Russell's journey. 
105:036,20['  ]| Uppercross was a moderate-sized village, which a few 
105:036,21['  ]| years back had been completely in the old English style; 
105:036,22['  ]| containing only two houses superior in appearance to 
105:036,23['  ]| those of the yeomen and labourers, ~~ the mansion of the 
105:036,24['  ]| 'squire, with its high walls, great gates, and old trees, 
105:036,25['  ]| substantial and unmodernized ~~ and the compact, tight 
105:036,26['  ]| parsonage, enclosed in its own neat garden, with a vine 
105:036,27['  ]| and a pear-tree trained round its casements; but upon 
105:036,28['  ]| the marriage of the young 'squire, it had received the 
105:036,29['  ]| improvement of a farm-house elevated into a cottage for 
105:036,30['  ]| his residence; and Uppercross*Cottage, with its viranda, 
105:036,31['  ]| French windows, and other prettinesses, was quite as 
105:036,32['  ]| likely to catch the traveller's eye, as the more consistent 
105:036,33['  ]| and considerable aspect and premises of the Great*House, 
105:036,34['  ]| about a quarter of a mile farther on. 
105:036,35['  ]| Here $PN#A$Anne had often been staying.  She knew the ways 
105:036,36['  ]| of Uppercross as well as those of Kellynch.  The two 
105:036,37['  ]| families were so continually meeting, so much in the habit 
105:036,38['  ]| of running in and out of each other's house at all hours, 
105:037,01['  ]| that it was rather a surprise to her to find $PN#P$Mary alone; 
105:037,02['  ]| but being alone, her being unwell and out of spirits, was 
105:037,03['  ]| almost a matter of course.  Though better endowed than the 
105:037,04['  ]| elder sister, $PN#P$Mary had not $PN#A$Anne's understanding or temper. 
105:037,05['  ]| While well, and happy, and properly attended to, she had 
105:037,06['  ]| great good*humour and excellent spirits; but any indisposition 
105:037,07['  ]| sunk her completely; she had no resources for 
105:037,08['  ]| solitude; and inheriting a considerable share of the $PN#G1$Elliot 
105:037,09['  ]| self-importance, was very prone to add to every other distress 
105:037,10['  ]| that of fancying herself neglected and ill-used.  In person, 
105:037,11['  ]| she was inferior to both sisters, and had, even in her 
105:037,12['  ]| bloom, only reached the dignity of being "a fine girl." 
105:037,13['  ]| She was now lying on the faded sofa of the pretty little 
105:037,14['  ]| drawing-room, the once elegant furniture of which had 
105:037,15['  ]| been gradually growing shabby, under the influence of 
105:037,16['  ]| four summers and two children; and, on $PN#A$Anne's appearing, 
105:037,17['  ]| greeted her with, 
105:037,18[P  ]| "So, you are come at last!  I began to think I should 
105:037,19[P  ]| never see you.  I am so ill I can hardly speak.  I have 
105:037,20[P  ]| not seen a creature the whole morning!" 
105:037,21[A  ]| "I am sorry to find you unwell," 
105:037,21['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne. 
105:037,21[A  ]| "You 
105:037,22[A  ]| sent me such a good account of yourself on Thursday!" 
105:037,23[P  ]| "Yes, I made the best of it; I always do; but I was 
105:037,24[P  ]| very far from well at the time; and I do not think I ever 
105:037,25[P  ]| was so ill in my life as I have been all this morning ~~ very 
105:037,26[P  ]| unfit to be left alone, I am sure.  Suppose I were to be 
105:037,27[P  ]| seized of a sudden in some dreadful way, and not able 
105:037,28[P  ]| to ring the bell!  So, $PN#K$Lady*Russell would not get out. 
105:037,29[P  ]| I do not think she has been in this house three times 
105:037,30[P  ]| this summer." 
105:037,31['  ]| $PN#A$Anne said what was proper, and enquired after her 
105:037,32['  ]| husband. 
105:037,32[P  ]| "Oh! $PN#O$Charles is out shooting.  I have not 
105:037,33[P  ]| seen him since seven o'clock.  He would go, though I told 
105:037,34[P  ]| him how ill I was.  He said he should not stay out long; 
105:037,35[P  ]| but he has never come back, and now it is almost one. 
105:037,36[P  ]| I assure you, I have not seen a soul this whole long 
105:037,37[P  ]| morning." 
105:037,38[A  ]| "You have had your little boys with you?" 
105:038,01[P  ]| "Yes, as long as I could bear their noise; but they are 
105:038,02[P  ]| so unmanageable that they do me more harm than good. 
105:038,03[P  ]| Little $PN#P1$Charles does not mind a word I say, and $PN#P2$Walter 
105:038,04[P  ]| is growing quite as bad." 
105:038,05[A  ]| "Well, you will soon be better now," 
105:038,05['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne, 
105:038,06['  ]| cheerfully. 
105:038,06[A  ]| "You know I always cure you when I come. 
105:038,07[A  ]| How are your neighbours at the Great*House?" 
105:038,08[P  ]| "I can give you no account of them.  I have not seen 
105:038,09[P  ]| one of them to-day, except $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove, who just 
105:038,10[P  ]| stopped and spoke through the window, but without 
105:038,11[P  ]| getting off his horse; and though I told him how ill I was, 
105:038,12[P  ]| not one of them had been near me.  It did not happen 
105:038,13[P  ]| to suit the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves, I suppose, and they never 
105:038,14[P  ]| put themselves out of their way." 
105:038,15[A  ]| "You will see them yet, perhaps, before the morning 
105:038,16[A  ]| is gone.  It is early." 
105:038,17[P  ]| "I never want them, I assure you.  They talk and laugh 
105:038,18[P  ]| a great deal too much for me.  Oh! $PN#A$Anne, I am so very 
105:038,19[P  ]| unwell!  It was quite unkind of you not to come on 
105:038,20[P  ]| Thursday." 
105:038,21[A  ]| "My dear $PN#P$Mary, recollect what a comfortable account 
105:038,22[A  ]| you sent me of yourself!  You wrote in the cheerfullest 
105:038,23[A  ]| manner, and said you were perfectly well, and in no 
105:038,24[A  ]| hurry for me; and that being the case, you must be 
105:038,25[A  ]| aware that my wish would be to remain with $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
105:038,26[A  ]| to the last:  and besides what I felt on her 
105:038,27[A  ]| account, I have really been so busy, have had so much 
105:038,28[A  ]| to do, that I could not very conveniently have left 
105:038,29[A  ]| Kellynch sooner." 
105:038,30[P  ]| "Dear me! what can \you\ possibly have to do?" 
105:038,31[A  ]| "A great many things, I assure you.  More than I can 
105:038,32[A  ]| recollect in a moment:  but I can tell you some.  I have 
105:038,33[A  ]| been making a duplicate of the catalogue of my father's 
105:038,34[A  ]| books and pictures.  I have been several times in the 
105:038,35[A  ]| garden with $PN#ZU$Mackenzie, trying to understand, and make 
105:038,36[A  ]| him understand, which of $PN#H$Elizabeth's plants are for $PN#K$Lady*Russell. 
105:038,37[A  ]| I have had all my own little concerns to arrange 
105:038,38[A  ]| ~~ books and music to divide, and all my trunks to repack, 
105:039,01[A  ]| from not having understood in time what was intended 
105:039,02[A  ]| as to the waggons.  And one thing I have had to do, 
105:039,03[A  ]| $PN#P$Mary, of a more trying nature; going to almost every 
105:039,04[A  ]| house in the parish, as a sort of take-leave.  I was told 
105:039,05[A  ]| that they wished it.  But all these things took up a great 
105:039,06[A  ]| deal of time." 
105:039,07[P  ]| "Oh! well;" ~~ 
105:039,07['  ]| and after a moment's pause, 
105:039,07[P  ]| "But 
105:039,08[P  ]| you have never asked me one word about our dinner at 
105:039,09[P  ]| the $PN#ZY$Pooles yesterday." 
105:039,10[A  ]| "Did you go then?  I have made no enquiries, because 
105:039,11[A  ]| I concluded you must have been obliged to give up the 
105:039,12[A  ]| party." 
105:039,13[P  ]| "Oh! yes, I went.  I was very well yesterday; nothing 
105:039,14[P  ]| at all the matter with me till this morning.  It would have 
105:039,15[P  ]| been strange if I had not gone." 
105:039,16[A  ]| "I am very glad you were well enough, and I hope 
105:039,17[A  ]| you had a pleasant party." 
105:039,18[P  ]| "Nothing remarkable.  One always knows beforehand 
105:039,19[P  ]| what the dinner will be, and who will be there.  And it 
105:039,20[P  ]| is so very uncomfortable, not having a carriage of one's 
105:039,21[P  ]| own.  $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove took me, and we were 
105:039,22[P  ]| so crowded!  They are both so very large, and take up 
105:039,23[P  ]| so much room!  And $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove always sits forward. 
105:039,24[P  ]| So, there was I, crowded into the back seat with $PN#R$Henrietta 
105:039,25[P  ]| and $PN#M$Louisa.  And I think it very likely that my illness 
105:039,26[P  ]| to-day may be owing to it." 
105:039,27['  ]| A little farther perseverance in patience, and forced 
105:039,28['  ]| cheerfulness on $PN#A$Anne's side, produced nearly a cure on 
105:039,29['  ]| $PN#P$Mary's.  She could soon sit upright on the sofa, and 
105:039,30['  ]| began to hope she might be able to leave it by dinner-time. 
105:039,31['  ]| Then, forgetting to think of it, she was at the other end 
105:039,32['  ]| of the room, beautifying a nosegay; then, she ate her 
105:039,33['  ]| cold meat; and then she was well enough to propose 
105:039,34['  ]| a little walk. 
105:039,35[P  ]| "Where shall we go?" 
105:039,35['  ]| said she, when they were 
105:039,36['  ]| ready. 
105:039,36[P  ]| "I suppose you will not like to call at the Great*House 
105:039,37[P  ]| before they have been to see you?" 
105:039,38[A  ]| "I have not the smallest objection on that account," 
105:040,01['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne. 
105:040,01[A  ]| "I should never think of standing on such 
105:040,02[A  ]| ceremony with people I know so well as $PN#N$Mrs% and the 
105:040,03[A  ]| $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves." 
105:040,04[P  ]| "Oh! but they ought to call upon you as soon as 
105:040,05[P  ]| possible.  They ought to feel what is due to you as \my\ 
105:040,06[P  ]| sister.  However, we may as well go and sit with them 
105:040,07[P  ]| a little while, and when we have got that over, we can 
105:040,08[P  ]| enjoy our walk." 
105:040,09['  ]| $PN#A$Anne had always thought such a style of intercourse 
105:040,10['  ]| highly imprudent; but she had ceased to endeavour to 
105:040,11['  ]| check it, from believing that, though there were on each 
105:040,12['  ]| side continual subjects of offence, neither family could 
105:040,13['  ]| now do without it.  To the Great*House accordingly 
105:040,14['  ]| they went, to sit the full half*hour in the old-fashioned 
105:040,15['  ]| square parlour, with a small carpet and shining floor, to 
105:040,16['  ]| which the present daughters of the house were gradually 
105:040,17['  ]| giving the proper air of confusion by a grand piano*forte 
105:040,18['  ]| and a harp, flower-stands and little tables placed in 
105:040,19['  ]| every direction.  Oh! could the originals of the portraits 
105:040,20['  ]| against the wainscot, could the gentlemen in brown 
105:040,21['  ]| velvet and the ladies in blue satin have seen what was 
105:040,22['  ]| going on, have been conscious of such an overthrow of 
105:040,23['  ]| all order and neatness!  The portraits themselves seemed 
105:040,24['  ]| to be staring in astonishment. 
105:040,25['  ]| The $PN#W1$Musgroves, like their houses, were in a state of 
105:040,26['  ]| alteration, perhaps of improvement.  The father and 
105:040,27['  ]| mother were in the old English style, and the young 
105:040,28['  ]| people in the new.  $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove were a very 
105:040,29['  ]| good sort of people; friendly and hospitable, not much 
105:040,30['  ]| educated, and not at all elegant.  Their children had more 
105:040,31['  ]| modern minds and manners.  There was a numerous 
105:040,32['  ]| family; but the only two grown up, excepting $PN#O$Charles, 
105:040,33['  ]| were $PN#R$Henrietta and $PN#M$Louisa, young ladies of nineteen and 
105:040,34['  ]| twenty, who had brought from a school at Exeter all the 
105:040,35['  ]| usual stock of accomplishments, and were now, like 
105:040,36['  ]| thousands of other young ladies, living to be fashionable, 
105:040,37['  ]| happy, and merry.  Their dress had every advantage, 
105:040,38['  ]| their faces were rather pretty, their spirits extremely 
105:041,01['  ]| good, their manners unembarrassed and pleasant; they 
105:041,02['  ]| were of consequence at home, and favourites abroad. 
105:041,03['  ]| $PN#A$Anne always contemplated them as some of the happiest 
105:041,04['  ]| creatures of her acquaintance; but still, saved as we all 
105:041,05['  ]| are by some comfortable feeling of superiority from wishing 
105:041,06['  ]| for the possibility of exchange, she would not have given 
105:041,07['  ]| up her own more elegant and cultivated mind for all their 
105:041,08['  ]| enjoyments; and envied them nothing but that seemingly 
105:041,09['  ]| perfect good understanding and agreement together, that 
105:041,10['  ]| good-humoured mutual affection, of which she had known 
105:041,11['  ]| so little herself with either of her sisters. 
105:041,12['  ]| They were received with great cordiality.  Nothing 
105:041,13['  ]| seemed amiss on the side of the Great*House family, 
105:041,14['  ]| which was generally, as $PN#A$Anne very well knew, the least 
105:041,15['  ]| to blame.  The half*hour was chatted away pleasantly 
105:041,16['  ]| enough; and she was not at all surprised, at the end of 
105:041,17['  ]| it, to have their walking party joined by both the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves, 
105:041,18['  ]| at $PN#P$Mary's particular invitation. 
106:042,01['  ]| $PN#A$Anne had not wanted this visit to Uppercross, to learn 
106:042,02['  ]| that a removal from one set of people to another, though 
106:042,03['  ]| at a distance of only three miles, will often include a total 
106:042,04['  ]| change of conversation, opinion, and idea.  She had never 
106:042,05['  ]| been staying there before, without being struck by it, 
106:042,06['  ]| or without wishing that other $PN#G1$Elliots could have her 
106:042,07['  ]| advantage in seeing how unknown, or unconsidered there, 
106:042,08['  ]| were the affairs which at Kellynch-hall were treated as 
106:042,09['  ]| of such general publicity and pervading interest; yet, 
106:042,10['  ]| with all this experience, she believed she must now submit 
106:042,11['  ]| to feel that another lesson, in the art of knowing our own 
106:042,12['  ]| nothingness beyond our own circle, was become necessary 
106:042,13['  ]| for her; ~~ for certainly, coming as she did, with a heart 
106:042,14['  ]| full of the subject which had been completely occupying 
106:042,15['  ]| both houses in Kellynch for many weeks, she had expected 
106:042,16['  ]| rather more curiosity and sympathy than she found in 
106:042,17['  ]| the separate, but very similar remark of $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove 
106:042,18[Y  ]| ~~ "So, $PN#A$Miss*Anne, $PN#G$Sir*Walter and your sister 
106:042,19[Y  ]| are gone; and what part of Bath do you think they will 
106:042,20[Y  ]| settle in?" 
106:042,20['  ]| and this, without much waiting for an 
106:042,21['  ]| answer; ~~ or in the young ladies' addition of, 
106:042,21[Y  ]| "I hope 
106:042,22[Y  ]| we shall be in Bath in the winter; but remember, papa, 
106:042,23[Y  ]| if we do go, we must be in a good situation ~~ none of your 
106:042,24[Y  ]| Queen-squares for us!" 
106:042,24['  ]| or in the anxious supplement 
106:042,25['  ]| from $PN#P$Mary, of 
106:042,25[P  ]| "Upon my word, I shall be pretty well off, 
106:042,26[P  ]| when you are all gone away to be happy at Bath!" 
106:042,27['  ]| She could only resolve to avoid such self-delusion in 
106:042,28['  ]| future, and think with heightened gratitude of the 
106:042,29['  ]| extraordinary blessing of having one such truly sympathising 
106:042,30['  ]| friend as $PN#K$Lady*Russell. 
106:042,31['  ]| The $PN#W2$Mr%*Musgroves had their own game to guard, and 
106:042,32['  ]| to destroy; their own horses, dogs, and newspapers to 
106:042,33['  ]| engage them; and the females were fully occupied in 
106:043,01['  ]| all the other common subjects of house-keeping, neighbours, 
106:043,02['  ]| dress, dancing, and music.  She acknowledged it 
106:043,03['  ]| to be very fitting, that every little social commonwealth 
106:043,04['  ]| should dictate its own matters of discourse; and hoped, 
106:043,05['  ]| ere long, to become a not unworthy member of the one 
106:043,06['  ]| she was now transplanted into. ~~ With the prospect of 
106:043,07['  ]| spending at least two months at Uppercross, it was 
106:043,08['  ]| highly incumbent on her to clothe her imagination, her 
106:043,09['  ]| memory, and all her ideas in as much of Uppercross as 
106:043,10['  ]| possible. 
106:043,11['  ]| She had no dread of these two months.  $PN#P$Mary was not 
106:043,12['  ]| so repulsive and unsisterly as $PN#H$Elizabeth, nor so inaccessible 
106:043,13['  ]| to all influence of hers; neither was there any*thing 
106:043,14['  ]| among the other component parts of the cottage inimical 
106:043,15['  ]| to comfort. ~~ She was always on friendly terms with her 
106:043,16['  ]| brother-in-law; and in the children, who loved her nearly 
106:043,17['  ]| as well, and respected her a great deal more than their 
106:043,18['  ]| mother, she had an object of interest, amusement, and 
106:043,19['  ]| wholesome exertion. 
106:043,20['  ]| $PN#O$Charles*Musgrove was civil and agreeable; in sense 
106:043,21['  ]| and temper he was undoubtedly superior to his wife; 
106:043,22['  ]| but not of powers, or conversation, or grace, to make the 
106:043,23['  ]| past, as they were connected together, at all a dangerous 
106:043,24['  ]| contemplation; though, at the same time, $PN#A$Anne could 
106:043,25['  ]| believe, with $PN#K$Lady*Russell, that a more equal match 
106:043,26['  ]| might have greatly improved him; and that a woman 
106:043,27['  ]| of real understanding might have given more consequence 
106:043,28['  ]| to his character, and more usefulness, rationality, and 
106:043,29['  ]| elegance to his habits and pursuits.  As it was, he did 
106:043,30['  ]| nothing with much zeal, but sport; and his time was 
106:043,31['  ]| otherwise trifled away, without benefit from books, or 
106:043,32['  ]| any*thing else.  He had very good spirits, which never 
106:043,33['  ]| seemed much affected by his wife's occasional lowness; 
106:043,34['  ]| bore$1#1$ with her unreasonableness sometimes to $PN#A$Anne's admiration; 
106:043,35['  ]| and, upon the whole, though there was very often 
106:043,36['  ]| a little disagreement, (in which she had sometimes more 
106:043,37['  ]| share than she wished, being appealed to by both parties) 
106:043,38['  ]| they might pass for a happy couple.  They were always 
106:044,01['  ]| perfectly agreed in the want of more money, and a strong 
106:044,02['  ]| inclination for a handsome present from his father; but 
106:044,03['  ]| here, as on most topics, he had the superiority, for while 
106:044,04['  ]| $PN#P$Mary thought it a great shame that such a present was 
106:044,05['  ]| not made, he always contended for his father's having 
106:044,06['  ]| many other uses for his money, and a right to spend it 
106:044,07['  ]| as he liked. 
106:044,08['  ]| As to the management of their children, his theory was 
106:044,09['  ]| much better than his wife's, and his practice not so bad. ~~ 
106:044,10[O  ]| "I could manage them very well, if it were not for $PN#P$Mary's 
106:044,11[O  ]| interference," ~~ 
106:044,11['  ]| was what $PN#A$Anne often heard him say, 
106:044,12['  ]| and had a good deal of faith in; but when listening in 
106:044,13['  ]| turn to $PN#P$Mary's reproach of 
106:044,13[P  ]| "$PN#O$Charles spoils the children 
106:044,14[P  ]| so that I cannot get them into any order," ~~ 
106:044,14['  ]| she never had 
106:044,15['  ]| the smallest temptation to say, "Very true." 
106:044,16['  ]| One of the least agreeable circumstances of her residence 
106:044,17['  ]| there, was her being treated with too much confidence by 
106:044,18['  ]| all parties, and being too much in the secret of the complaints 
106:044,19['  ]| of each house.  Known to have some influence 
106:044,20['  ]| with her sister, she was continually requested, or at least 
106:044,21['  ]| receiving hints to exert it, beyond what was practicable. 
106:044,22[O  ]| "I wish you could persuade $PN#P$Mary not to be always 
106:044,23[O  ]| fancying herself ill," 
106:044,23['  ]| was $PN#O$Charles's language; and, in an 
106:044,24['  ]| unhappy mood, thus spoke $PN#P$Mary; ~~ 
106:044,24[P  ]| "I do believe if 
106:044,25[P  ]| $PN#O$Charles were to see me dying, he would not think there 
106:044,26[P  ]| was any*thing the matter with me.  I am sure, $PN#A$Anne, 
106:044,27[P  ]| if you would, you might persuade him that I really am 
106:044,28[P  ]| very ill ~~ a great deal worse than I ever own." 
106:044,29['  ]| $PN#P$Mary's declaration was, 
106:044,29[P  ]| "I hate sending the children 
106:044,30[P  ]| to the Great*House, though their grandmamma is always 
106:044,31[P  ]| wanting to see them, for she humours and indulges them 
106:044,32[P  ]| to such a degree, and gives them so much trash and sweet 
106:044,33[P  ]| things, that they are sure to come back sick and cross 
106:044,34[P  ]| for the rest of the day." ~~ 
106:044,34['  ]| And $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove took the 
106:044,35['  ]| first opportunity of being alone with $PN#A$Anne, to say, 
106:044,35[N  ]| "Oh! 
106:044,36[N  ]| $PN#A$Miss*Anne, I cannot help wishing $PN#P$Mrs%*Charles had a little 
106:044,37[N  ]| of your method with those children.  They are quite 
106:044,38[N  ]| different creatures with you!  But to be sure, in general 
106:045,01[N  ]| they are so spoilt!  It is a pity you cannot put your 
106:045,02[N  ]| sister in the way of managing them.  They are as fine 
106:045,03[N  ]| healthy children as ever were seen, poor little dears, 
106:045,04[N  ]| without partiality; but $PN#P$Mrs%*Charles knows no more how 
106:045,05[N  ]| they should be treated! ~~ Bless me, how troublesome they 
106:045,06[N  ]| are sometimes! ~~ I assure you, $PN#A$Miss*Anne, it prevents my 
106:045,07[N  ]| wishing to see them at our house so often as I otherwise 
106:045,08[N  ]| should.  I believe $PN#P$Mrs%*Charles is not quite pleased with 
106:045,09[N  ]| my not inviting them oftener; but you know it is very 
106:045,10[N  ]| bad to have children with one, that one is obliged to be 
106:045,11[N  ]| checking every moment; ""don't do this, and don't do 
106:045,12[N  ]| that;"" ~~ or that one can only keep in tolerable order by 
106:045,13[N  ]| more cake than is good for them." 
106:045,14['  ]| She had this communication, moreover, from $PN#P$Mary. 
106:045,15[P  ]| "$PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove thinks all her servants so steady, that 
106:045,16[P  ]| it would be high treason to call it in question; but I am 
106:045,17[P  ]| sure, without exaggeration, that her upper house-maid 
106:045,18[P  ]| and laundry-maid, instead of being in their business, are 
106:045,19[P  ]| gadding about the village, all day long.  I meet them 
106:045,20[P  ]| wherever I go; and I declare, I never go twice into my 
106:045,21[P  ]| nursery without seeing something of them.  If $PN#ZT$Jemima 
106:045,22[P  ]| were not the trustiest, steadiest creature in the world, 
106:045,23[P  ]| it would be enough to spoil her; for she tells me, they 
106:045,24[P  ]| are always tempting her to take a walk with them." 
106:045,25['  ]| And on $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove's side, it was, ~~ 
106:045,25[N  ]| "I make a rule 
106:045,26[N  ]| of never interfering in any of my daughter-in-law's 
106:045,27[N  ]| concerns, for I know it would not do; but I shall tell \you\, 
106:045,28[N  ]| $PN#A$Miss*Anne, because you may be able to set things to 
106:045,29[N  ]| rights, that I have no very good opinion of $PN#P$Mrs%*Charles's 
106:045,30[N  ]| nursery-maid:  I hear strange stories of her; she is 
106:045,31[N  ]| always upon the gad:  and from my own knowledge, 
106:045,32[N  ]| I can declare, she is such a fine-dressing lady, that she is 
106:045,33[N  ]| enough to ruin any servants she comes near.  $PN#P$Mrs%*Charles 
106:045,34[N  ]| quite swears by her, I know; but I just give you this 
106:045,35[N  ]| hint, that you may be upon the watch; because, if you 
106:045,36[N  ]| see any*thing amiss, you need not be afraid of mentioning 
106:045,37[N  ]| it." 
106:045,38['  ]| Again; it was $PN#P$Mary's complaint, that 
106:045,38@p   | $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove 
106:046,01@p   | was very apt not to give her the precedence that was her 
106:046,02@p   | due, when they dined at the Great*House with other 
106:046,03@p   | families; and she did not see any reason why she was to 
106:046,04@p   | be considered so much at home as to lose her place. 
106:046,04['  ]| And 
106:046,05['  ]| one day, when $PN#A$Anne was walking with only the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves, 
106:046,06['  ]| one of them, after talking of rank, people of rank, 
106:046,07['  ]| and jealousy of rank, said, 
106:046,07[R  ]| "I have no scruple of observing 
106:046,08[R  ]| to \you\, how nonsensical some persons are about their 
106:046,09[R  ]| place, because, all the world knows how easy and indifferent 
106:046,10[R  ]| you are about it:  but I wish any*body could give $PN#P$Mary 
106:046,11[R  ]| a hint that it would be a great deal better if she were not 
106:046,12[R  ]| so very tenacious; especially, if she would not be always 
106:046,13[R  ]| putting herself forward to take place of mamma.  Nobody 
106:046,14[R  ]| doubts her right to have precedence of mamma, but it 
106:046,15[R  ]| would be more becoming in her not to be always insisting 
106:046,16[R  ]| on it.  It is not that mamma cares about it the least in the 
106:046,17[R  ]| world, but I know it is taken notice of by many persons." 
106:046,18['  ]| How was $PN#A$Anne to set all these matters to rights?  She 
106:046,19['  ]| could do little more than listen patiently, soften every 
106:046,20['  ]| grievance, and excuse each to the other; give them all 
106:046,21['  ]| hints of the forbearance necessary between such near neighbours, 
106:046,22['  ]| and make those hints broadest which were meant 
106:046,23['  ]| for her sister's benefit. 
106:046,24['  ]| In all other respects, her visit began and proceeded very 
106:046,25['  ]| well.  Her own spirits improved by change of place and 
106:046,26['  ]| subject, by being removed three miles from Kellynch: 
106:046,27['  ]| $PN#P$Mary's ailments lessened by having a constant companion; 
106:046,28['  ]| and their daily intercourse with the other family, since 
106:046,29['  ]| there was neither superior affection, confidence, nor 
106:046,30['  ]| employment in the cottage, to be interrupted by it, was 
106:046,31['  ]| rather an advantage.  It was certainly carried nearly as 
106:046,32['  ]| far as possible, for they met every morning, and hardly 
106:046,33['  ]| ever spent an evening asunder; but she believed they 
106:046,34['  ]| should not have done so well without the sight of $PN#W$Mr% and 
106:046,35['  ]| $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove's respectable forms in the usual places, 
106:046,36['  ]| or without the talking, laughing, and singing of their 
106:046,37['  ]| daughters. 
106:046,38['  ]| She played a great deal better than either of the 
106:047,01['  ]| $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves; but having no voice, no knowledge of 
106:047,02['  ]| the harp, and no fond parents to sit by and fancy themselves 
106:047,03['  ]| delighted, her performance was little thought of, 
106:047,04['  ]| only out of civility, or to refresh the others, as she was 
106:047,05['  ]| well aware.  She knew that when she played she was 
106:047,06['  ]| giving pleasure only to herself; but this was no new 
106:047,07['  ]| sensation:  excepting one short period of her life, she had 
106:047,08['  ]| never, since the age of fourteen, never since the loss of 
106:047,09['  ]| her dear mother, known the happiness of being listened 
106:047,10['  ]| to, or encouraged by any just appreciation or real taste. 
106:047,11['  ]| In music she had been always used to feel alone in the 
106:047,12['  ]| world; and $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove's fond partiality for 
106:047,13['  ]| their own daughters' performance, and total indifference 
106:047,14['  ]| to any other person's, gave her much more pleasure for 
106:047,15['  ]| their sakes, than mortification for her own. 
106:047,16['  ]| The party at the Great*House was sometimes increased 
106:047,17['  ]| by other company.  The neighbourhood was not large, 
106:047,18['  ]| but the $PN#W1$Musgroves were visited by every*body, and had 
106:047,19['  ]| more dinner*parties, and more callers, more visitors by 
106:047,20['  ]| invitation and by chance, than any other family.  They 
106:047,21['  ]| were more completely popular. 
106:047,22['  ]| The girls were wild for dancing; and the evenings 
106:047,23['  ]| ended, occasionally, in an unpremeditated little ball. 
106:047,24['  ]| There was a family of cousins within a walk of Uppercross, 
106:047,25['  ]| in less affluent circumstances, who depended on the $PN#W1$Musgroves 
106:047,26['  ]| for all their pleasures:  they would come at any 
106:047,27['  ]| time, and help play at any*thing, or dance any*where; 
106:047,28['  ]| and $PN#A$Anne, very much preferring the office of musician 
106:047,29['  ]| to a more active post, played country*dances to them by 
106:047,30['  ]| the hour together; a kindness which always recommended 
106:047,31['  ]| her musical powers to the notice of $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove 
106:047,32['  ]| more than any*thing else, and often drew this compliment; 
106:047,33[Y  ]| ~~ "Well done, $PN#A$Miss*Anne! very well done indeed! 
106:047,34[Y  ]| Lord bless me! how those little fingers of yours fly about!" 
106:047,35['  ]| So passed the first three weeks.  Michaelmas came; 
106:047,36['  ]| and now $PN#A$Anne's heart must be in Kellynch again.  A 
106:047,37['  ]| beloved home made over to others; all the precious 
106:047,38['  ]| rooms and furniture, groves, and prospects, beginning to 
106:048,01['  ]| own other eyes and other limbs!  She could not think of 
106:048,02['  ]| much else on the 29th of September; and she had this 
106:048,03['  ]| sympathetic touch in the evening, from $PN#P$Mary, who, on 
106:048,04['  ]| having occasion to note down the day of the month, 
106:048,05['  ]| exclaimed, 
106:048,05[P  ]| "Dear me! is not this the day the $PN#D1$Crofts 
106:048,06[P  ]| were to come to Kellynch?  I am glad I did not think of 
106:048,07[P  ]| it before.  How low it makes me!" 
106:048,08['  ]| The $PN#D1$Crofts took possession with true naval alertness, 
106:048,09['  ]| and were to be visited.  $PN#P$Mary deplored the necessity 
106:048,10['  ]| for herself. 
106:048,10[P  ]| "Nobody knew how much she should suffer. 
106:048,11[P  ]| She should put it off as long as she could." 
106:048,11['  ]| But was not 
106:048,12['  ]| easy till she had talked $PN#O$Charles into driving her over on 
106:048,13['  ]| an early day; and was in a very animated, comfortable 
106:048,14['  ]| state of imaginary agitation, when she came back.  $PN#A$Anne 
106:048,15['  ]| had very sincerely rejoiced in there being no means of 
106:048,16['  ]| her going.  She wished, however, to see the $PN#D1$Crofts, and 
106:048,17['  ]| was glad to be within when the visit was returned.  They 
106:048,18['  ]| came; the master of the house was not at home, but the 
106:048,19['  ]| two sisters were together; and as it chanced that 
106:048,20['  ]| $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft fell to the share of $PN#A$Anne, while the $PN#D$admiral 
106:048,21['  ]| sat by $PN#P$Mary, and made himself very agreeable by his 
106:048,22['  ]| good-humoured notice of her little boys, she was well 
106:048,23['  ]| able to watch for a likeness, and if it failed her in the 
106:048,24['  ]| features, to catch it in the voice, or the turn of sentiment 
106:048,25['  ]| and expression. 
106:048,26['  ]| $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, though neither tall nor fat, had a squareness, 
106:048,27['  ]| uprightness, and vigour of form, which gave importance 
106:048,28['  ]| to her person.  She had bright dark eyes, good teeth, 
106:048,29['  ]| and altogether an agreeable face; though her reddened 
106:048,30['  ]| and weather-beaten complexion, the consequence of her 
106:048,31['  ]| having been almost as much at sea as her husband, made 
106:048,32['  ]| her seem to have lived some years longer in the world 
106:048,33['  ]| than her real eight*and*thirty.  Her manners were open, 
106:048,34['  ]| easy, and decided, like one who had no distrust of herself, 
106:048,35['  ]| and no doubts of what to do; without any approach to 
106:048,36['  ]| coarseness, however, or any want of good*humour.  $PN#A$Anne 
106:048,37['  ]| gave her credit, indeed, for feelings of great consideration 
106:048,38['  ]| towards herself, in all that related to Kellynch; and it 
106:049,01['  ]| pleased her:  especially, as she had satisfied herself in 
106:049,02['  ]| the very first half*minute, in the instant even of introduction, 
106:049,03['  ]| that there was not the smallest symptom of any 
106:049,04['  ]| knowledge or suspicion on $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft's side, to give a bias 
106:049,05['  ]| of any sort.  She was quite easy on that head, and consequently 
106:049,06['  ]| full of strength and courage, till for a moment 
106:049,07['  ]| electrified by $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft's suddenly saying, ~~ 
106:049,08[E  ]| "It was you, and not your sister, I find, that my brother 
106:049,09[E  ]| had the pleasure of being acquainted with, when he was 
106:049,10[E  ]| in this country." 
106:049,11['  ]| $PN#A$Anne hoped she had outlived the age of blushing; but 
106:049,12['  ]| the age of emotion she certainly had not. 
106:049,13[E  ]| "Perhaps you may not have heard that he is married," 
106:049,14['  ]| added $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft. 
106:049,15['  ]| She could now answer as she ought; and was happy 
106:049,16['  ]| to feel, when $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft's next words explained it to be 
106:049,17['  ]| $PN#ZZO$Mr%*Wentworth of whom she spoke, that she had said 
106:049,18['  ]| nothing which might not do for either brother.  She 
106:049,19['  ]| immediately felt how reasonable it was, that $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft 
106:049,20['  ]| should be thinking and speaking of $PN#ZZO$Edward, and not of 
106:049,21['  ]| $PN#B$Frederick; and with shame at her own forgetfulness, 
106:049,22['  ]| applied herself to the knowledge of their former neighbour's 
106:049,23['  ]| present state, with proper interest. 
106:049,24['  ]| The rest was all tranquillity; till just as they were 
106:049,25['  ]| moving, she heard the $PN#D$admiral say to $PN#P$Mary, 
106:049,26[D  ]| "We are expecting a brother of $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft's here soon; 
106:049,27[D  ]| I dare say you know him by name." 
106:049,28['  ]| He was cut short by the eager attacks of the little 
106:049,29['  ]| boys, clinging to him like an old friend, and declaring 
106:049,30['  ]| he should not go; and being too much engrossed by 
106:049,31['  ]| proposals of carrying them away in his coat pocket, &c% 
106:049,32['  ]| to have another moment for finishing or recollecting what 
106:049,33['  ]| he had begun, $PN#A$Anne was left to persuade herself, as well 
106:049,34['  ]| as she could, that the same brother must still be in question. 
106:049,35['  ]| She could not, however, reach such a degree of 
106:049,36['  ]| certainty, as not to be anxious to hear whether any*thing 
106:049,37['  ]| had been said on the subject at the other house, where 
106:049,39['  ]| the $PN#D1$Crofts had previously been calling. 
106:050,01['  ]| The folks of Great*House were to spend the evening 
106:050,02['  ]| of this day at the Cottage; and it being now too late in 
106:050,03['  ]| the year for such visits to be made on foot, the coach 
106:050,04['  ]| was beginning to be listened for, when the youngest 
106:050,05['  ]| $PN#M$Miss*Musgrove walked in.  That she was coming to 
106:050,06['  ]| apologize, and that they should have to spend the evening 
106:050,07['  ]| by themselves, was the first black idea; and $PN#P$Mary was 
106:050,08['  ]| quite ready to be affronted, when $PN#M$Louisa made all right 
106:050,09['  ]| by saying, that she only came on foot, to leave more 
106:050,10['  ]| room for the harp, which was bringing in the carriage. 
106:050,11[M  ]| "And I will tell you our reason," 
106:050,11['  ]| she added, 
106:050,11[M  ]| "and all 
106:050,12[M  ]| about it.  I am come on to give you notice, that papa and 
106:050,13[M  ]| mamma are out of spirits this evening, especially mamma; 
106:050,14[M  ]| she is thinking so much of poor $PN#W$Richard!  And we agreed 
106:050,15[M  ]| it would be best to have the harp, for it seems to amuse 
106:050,16[M  ]| her more than the piano-forte.  I will tell you why she 
106:050,17[M  ]| is out of spirits.  When the $PN#D1$Crofts called this morning, 
106:050,18[M  ]| (they called here afterwards, did not they?) they 
106:050,19[M  ]| happened to say, that her brother, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
106:050,20[M  ]| is just returned to England, or paid off, or something, and 
106:050,21[M  ]| is coming to see them almost directly; and most unluckily 
106:050,22[M  ]| it came into mamma's head, when they were gone, that 
106:050,23[M  ]| $PN#B$Wentworth, or something very like it, was the name of 
106:050,24[M  ]| poor $PN#W$Richard's captain, at one time, I do not know when 
106:050,25[M  ]| or where, but a great while before he died, poor fellow! 
106:050,26[M  ]| And upon looking over his letters and things, she found 
106:050,27[M  ]| it was so; and is perfectly sure that this must be the very 
106:050,28[M  ]| man, and her head is quite full of it, and of poor $PN#W$Richard! 
106:050,29[M  ]| So we must all be as merry as we can, that she may not 
106:050,30[M  ]| be dwelling upon such gloomy things." 
106:050,31['  ]| The real circumstances of this pathetic piece of family 
106:050,32['  ]| history were, that the $PN#W1$Musgroves had had the ill fortune of 
106:050,33['  ]| a very troublesome, hopeless son; and the good fortune 
106:050,34['  ]| to lose him before he reached his twentieth year; that he 
106:050,35['  ]| had been sent to sea, because he was stupid and unmanageable 
106:050,36['  ]| on shore; that he had been very little cared for 
106:050,37['  ]| at any time by his family, though quite as much as he 
106:050,38['  ]| deserved; seldom heard of, and scarcely at all regretted, 
106:051,01['  ]| when the intelligence of his death abroad had worked its 
106:051,02['  ]| way to Uppercross, two years before. 
106:051,03['  ]| He had, in fact, though his sisters were now doing all 
106:051,04['  ]| they could for him, by calling him 
106:051,04[Y  ]| "poor $PN#W$Richard," 
106:051,04['  ]| been 
106:051,05['  ]| nothing better than a thick-headed, unfeeling, unprofitable 
106:051,06['  ]| $PN#W$Dick*Musgrove, who had never done any*thing to entitle 
106:051,07['  ]| himself to more than the abbreviation of his name, living 
106:051,08['  ]| or dead. 
106:051,09['  ]| He had been several years at sea, and had, in the course 
106:051,10['  ]| of those removals to which all midshipmen are liable, and 
106:051,11['  ]| especially such midshipmen as every captain wishes to 
106:051,12['  ]| get rid of, been six months on board $PN#B$Captain*Frederick*Wentworth's 
106:051,13['  ]| frigate, the Laconia; and from the Laconia 
106:051,14['  ]| he had, under the influence of his captain, written the 
106:051,15['  ]| only two letters which his father and mother had ever 
106:051,16['  ]| received from him during the whole of his absence; that 
106:051,17['  ]| is to say, the only two disinterested letters; all the rest 
106:051,18['  ]| had been mere applications for money. 
106:051,19['  ]| In each letter he had spoken well of his captain; but 
106:051,20['  ]| yet, so little were they in the habit of attending to such 
106:051,21['  ]| matters, so unobservant and incurious were they as to 
106:051,22['  ]| the names of men or ships, that it had made scarcely any 
106:051,23['  ]| impression at the time; and that $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove should 
106:051,24['  ]| have been suddenly struck, this very day, with a recollection, 
106:051,25['  ]| of the name of $PN#B$Wentworth, as connected with her 
106:051,26['  ]| son, seemed one of those extraordinary bursts of mind 
106:051,27['  ]| which do sometimes occur. 
106:051,28['  ]| She had gone to her letters, and found it all as she 
106:051,29['  ]| supposed; and the reperusal of these letters, after so 
106:051,30['  ]| long an interval, her poor son gone for*ever, and all the 
106:051,31['  ]| strength of his faults forgotten, had affected her spirits 
106:051,32['  ]| exceedingly, and thrown her into greater grief for him 
106:051,33['  ]| than she had known on first hearing of his death.  $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove 
106:051,34['  ]| was, in a lesser degree, affected likewise; and when 
106:051,35['  ]| they reached the cottage, they were evidently in want, 
106:051,36['  ]| first, of being listened to anew on this subject, and afterwards, 
106:051,37['  ]| of all the relief which cheerful companions could 
106:051,38['  ]| give. 
106:052,01['  ]| To hear them talking so much of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
106:052,02['  ]| repeating his name so often, puzzling over past years, 
106:052,03['  ]| and at least ascertaining that it \might\, that it probably 
106:052,04['  ]| \would\, turn out to be the very same $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
106:052,05['  ]| whom they recollected meeting, once or twice, after their 
106:052,06['  ]| coming back from Clifton; ~~ 
106:052,06@y   | a very fine young man; but 
106:052,07@y   | they could not say whether it was seven or eight years 
106:052,08@y   | ago, ~~ 
106:052,08['  ]| was a new sort of trial to $PN#A$Anne's nerves.  She 
106:052,09['  ]| found, however, that it was one to which she must enure 
106:052,10['  ]| herself.  
106:052,10@a   | Since he actually was expected in the country, 
106:052,11@a   | she must teach herself to be insensible on such points. 
106:052,12['  ]| And not only did it appear that he was expected, and 
106:052,13['  ]| speedily, but the $PN#W1$Musgroves, in their warm gratitude for 
106:052,14['  ]| the kindness he had shewn poor $PN#W$Dick, and very high 
106:052,15['  ]| respect for his character, stamped as it was by poor 
106:052,16['  ]| $PN#W$Dick's having been six months under his care, and 
106:052,17['  ]| mentioning him in strong, though not perfectly well 
106:052,18['  ]| spelt praise, as 
106:052,18[W  ]| "a fine dashing felow, only two perticular 
106:052,19[W  ]| about the school-master," 
106:052,19['  ]| were bent on introducing 
106:052,20['  ]| themselves, and seeking his acquaintance, as soon as they 
106:052,21['  ]| could hear of his arrival. 
106:052,22['  ]| The resolution of doing so helped to form the comfort 
106:052,23['  ]| of their evening. 
107:053,01['  ]| A very few days more, and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was 
107:053,02['  ]| known to be at Kellynch, and $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove had called 
107:053,03['  ]| on him, and come back warm in his praise, and he was 
107:053,04['  ]| engaged with the $PN#D1$Crofts to dine at Uppercross, by the 
107:053,05['  ]| end of another week.  It had been a great disappointment 
107:053,06['  ]| to $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove, to find that no earlier day could be 
107:053,07['  ]| fixed, so impatient was he to shew his gratitude, by seeing 
107:053,08['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth under his own roof, and welcoming 
107:053,09['  ]| him to all that was strongest and best in his cellars.  But 
107:053,10['  ]| a week must pass; only a week, in $PN#A$Anne's reckoning, 
107:053,11['  ]| and then, she supposed, they must meet; and soon she 
107:053,12['  ]| began to wish that she could feel secure even for a week. 
107:053,13['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth made a very early return to 
107:053,14['  ]| $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove's civility, and she was all but calling there 
107:053,15['  ]| in the same half*hour! ~~ She and $PN#P$Mary were actually 
107:053,16['  ]| setting forward for the great*house, where, as she afterwards 
107:053,17['  ]| learnt, they must inevitably have found him, when 
107:053,18['  ]| they were stopped by the eldest boy's being at that 
107:053,19['  ]| moment brought home in consequence of a bad fall.  The 
107:053,20['  ]| child's situation put the visit entirely aside, but she could 
107:053,21['  ]| not hear of her escape with indifference, even in the midst 
107:053,22['  ]| of the serious anxiety which they afterwards felt on his 
107:053,23['  ]| account. 
107:053,24['  ]| His collar-bone was found to be dislocated, and such 
107:053,25['  ]| injury received in the back, as roused the most alarming 
107:053,26['  ]| ideas.  It was an afternoon of distress, and $PN#A$Anne had 
107:053,27['  ]| every*thing to do at once ~~ the apothecary to send for ~~ 
107:053,28['  ]| the father to have pursued and informed ~~ the mother to 
107:053,29['  ]| support and keep from hysterics ~~ the servants to control 
107:053,30['  ]| ~~ the youngest child to banish, and the poor suffering 
107:053,31['  ]| one to attend and soothe; ~~ besides sending, as soon as 
107:053,32['  ]| she recollected it, proper notice to the other house, which 
107:053,33['  ]| brought her an accession rather of frightened, enquiring 
107:053,34['  ]| companions, than of very useful assistants. 
107:054,01['  ]| Her brother's return was the first comfort; he could 
107:054,02['  ]| take best care of his wife, and the second blessing was the 
107:054,03['  ]| arrival of the apothecary.  Till he came and had examined 
107:054,04['  ]| the child, their apprehensions were the worse for being 
107:054,05['  ]| vague; ~~ they suspected great injury, but knew not 
107:054,06['  ]| where; but now the collar-bone was soon replaced, and 
107:054,07['  ]| though $PN#ZZ$Mr%*Robinson felt and felt, and rubbed, and looked 
107:054,08['  ]| grave, and spoke low words both to the father and the 
107:054,09['  ]| aunt, still they were all to hope the best, and to be able 
107:054,10['  ]| to part and eat their dinner in tolerable ease of mind; 
107:054,11['  ]| and then it was, just before they parted, that the two 
107:054,12['  ]| young aunts were able so far to digress from their nephew's 
107:054,13['  ]| state, as to give the information of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's 
107:054,14['  ]| visit; ~~ staying five minutes behind their father and 
107:054,15['  ]| mother, to endeavour to express 
107:054,15@y   | how perfectly delighted 
107:054,16@y   | they were with him, how much handsomer, how infinitely 
107:054,17@y   | more agreeable they thought him than any individual 
107:054,18@y   | among their male acquaintance, who had been at all 
107:054,19@y   | a favourite before ~~ how glad they had been to hear papa 
107:054,20@y   | invite him to stay dinner ~~ how sorry when he said it 
107:054,21@y   | was quite out of his power ~~ and how glad again, when he 
107:054,22@y   | had promised to reply to papa and mamma's farther 
107:054,23@y   | pressing invitations, to come and dine with them on the 
107:054,24@y   | morrow, actually on the morrow! ~~ And he had promised 
107:054,25@y   | it in so pleasant a manner, as if he felt all the motive of 
107:054,26@y   | their attention just as he ought! ~~ And, in short, he had 
107:054,27@y   | looked and said every*thing with such exquisite grace, 
107:054,28@y   | that they could assure them all, their heads were both 
107:054,29@y   | turned by him! ~~ 
107:054,29['  ]| And off they ran, quite as full of glee 
107:054,30['  ]| as of love, and apparently more full of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
107:054,31['  ]| than of little $PN#P1$Charles. 
107:054,32['  ]| The same story and the same raptures were repeated, 
107:054,33['  ]| when the two girls came with their father, through the 
107:054,34['  ]| gloom of the evening, to make enquiries; and $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove, 
107:054,35['  ]| no longer under the first uneasiness about his heir, 
107:054,36['  ]| could add his confirmation and praise, and 
107:054,36@w   | hope there 
107:054,37@w   | would be now no occasion for putting $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
107:054,38@w   | off, and only be sorry to think that the cottage*party, 
107:055,01@w   | probably, would not like to leave the little boy, to give 
107:055,02@w   | him the meeting. ~~ 
107:055,02[Y  ]| "Oh, no! as to leaving the little boy!" 
107:055,03['  ]| ~~ both father and mother were in much too strong and 
107:055,04['  ]| recent alarm to bear the thought; and $PN#A$Anne, in the joy 
107:055,05['  ]| of the escape, could not help adding her warm protestations 
107:055,06['  ]| to theirs. 
107:055,07['  ]| $PN#O$Charles*Musgrove, indeed, afterwards shewed more of inclination; 
107:055,08[O  ]| "the child was going on so well ~~ and he wished 
107:055,09[O  ]| so much to be introduced to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, that, 
107:055,10[O  ]| perhaps, he might join them in the evening; he would 
107:055,11[O  ]| not dine from home, but he might walk in for half an hour." 
107:055,12['  ]| But in this he was eagerly opposed by his wife, with 
107:055,13[P  ]| "Oh, no! indeed, $PN#O$Charles, I cannot bear to have you go 
107:055,14[P  ]| away.  Only think, if any*thing should happen!" 
107:055,15['  ]| The child had a good night, and was going on well the 
107:055,16['  ]| next day.  It must be a work of time to ascertain that no 
107:055,17['  ]| injury had been done to the spine, but $PN#ZZ$Mr%*Robinson 
107:055,18['  ]| found nothing to increase alarm, and $PN#O$Charles*Musgrove 
107:055,19['  ]| began consequently to feel no necessity for longer confinement. 
107:055,20@o   | The child was to be kept in bed, and amused as 
107:055,21@o   | quietly as possible; but what was there for a father to 
107:055,22@o   | do?  This was quite a female case, and it would be highly 
107:055,23@o   | absurd in him, who could be of no use at home, to shut 
107:055,24@o   | himself up.  His father very much wished him to meet 
107:055,25@o   | $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, and there being no sufficient reason 
107:055,26@o   | against it, he ought to go; 
107:055,26['  ]| and it ended in his making 
107:055,27['  ]| a bold public declaration, when he came in from shooting, 
107:055,28['  ]| of his meaning to dress directly, and dine at the other 
107:055,29['  ]| house. 
107:055,30[O  ]| "Nothing can be going on better than the child," 
107:055,31['  ]| said he, 
107:055,31[O  ]| "so I told my father just now that I would come, 
107:055,32[O  ]| and he thought me quite right.  Your sister being with 
107:055,33[O  ]| you, my love, I have no scruple at all.  You would not 
107:055,34[O  ]| like to leave him yourself, but you see I can be of no use. 
107:055,35[O  ]| $PN#A$Anne will send for me if any*thing is the matter." 
107:055,36['  ]| Husbands and wives generally understand when 
107:055,37['  ]| opposition will be vain.  $PN#P$Mary knew, from $PN#O$Charles's 
107:055,38['  ]| manner of speaking, that he was quite determined on 
107:056,01['  ]| going, and that it would be of no use to teaze him.  She 
107:056,02['  ]| said nothing, therefore, till he was out of the room, but 
107:056,03['  ]| as soon as there was only $PN#A$Anne to hear, 
107:056,04[P  ]| "So!  You and I are to be left to shift by ourselves, 
107:056,05[P  ]| with this poor sick child ~~ and not a creature coming near 
107:056,06[P  ]| us all the evening!  I knew how it would be.  This is 
107:056,07[P  ]| always my luck!  If there is any*thing disagreeable going 
107:056,08[P  ]| on, men are always sure to get out of it, and $PN#O$Charles is 
107:056,09[P  ]| as bad as any of them.  Very unfeeling!  I must say it 
107:056,10[P  ]| is very unfeeling of him, to be running away from his 
107:056,11[P  ]| poor little boy; talks of his being going on so well! 
107:056,12[P  ]| How does he know that he is going on well, or that there 
107:056,13[P  ]| may not be a sudden change half an hour hence?  I did 
107:056,14[P  ]| not think $PN#O$Charles would have been so unfeeling.  So, here 
107:056,15[P  ]| he is to go away and enjoy himself, and because I am the 
107:056,16[P  ]| poor mother, I am not to be allowed to stir; ~~ and yet, 
107:056,17[P  ]| I am sure, I am more unfit than any*body else to be about 
107:056,18[P  ]| the child.  My being the mother is the very reason why 
107:056,19[P  ]| my feelings should not be tried.  I am not at all equal 
107:056,20[P  ]| to it.  You saw how hysterical I was yesterday." 
107:056,21[A  ]| "But that was only the effect of the suddenness of your 
107:056,22[A  ]| alarm ~~ of the shock.  You will not be hysterical again. 
107:056,23[A  ]| I dare say we shall have nothing to distress us.  I perfectly 
107:056,24[A  ]| understand $PN#ZZ$Mr%*Robinson's directions, and have no fears; 
107:056,25[A  ]| and indeed, $PN#P$Mary, I cannot wonder at your husband. 
107:056,26[A  ]| Nursing does not belong to a man, it is not his province. 
107:056,27[A  ]| A sick child is always the mother's property, her own 
107:056,28[A  ]| feelings generally make it so." 
107:056,29[P  ]| "I hope I am as fond of my child as any mother ~~ but 
107:056,30[P  ]| I do not know that I am of any more use in the sick-room 
107:056,31[P  ]| than $PN#O$Charles, for I cannot be always scolding and teazing 
107:056,32[P  ]| a poor child when it is ill; and you saw, this morning, 
107:056,33[P  ]| that if I told him to keep quiet, he was sure to begin 
107:056,34[P  ]| kicking about.  I have not nerves for the sort of thing." 
107:056,35[A  ]| "But, could you be comfortable yourself, to be spending 
107:056,36[A  ]| the whole evening away from the poor boy?" 
107:056,37[P  ]| "Yes; you see his papa can, and why should not I? ~~ 
107:056,38[P  ]| $PN#ZT$Jemima is so careful!  And she could send us word every 
107:057,01[P  ]| hour how he was.  I really think $PN#O$Charles might as well 
107:057,02[P  ]| have told his father we would all come.  I am not more 
107:057,03[P  ]| alarmed about little $PN#P1$Charles now than he is.  I was 
107:057,04[P  ]| dreadfully alarmed yesterday, but the case is very 
107:057,05[P  ]| different to-day." 
107:057,06[A  ]| "Well ~~ if you do not think it too late to give notice 
107:057,07[A  ]| for yourself, suppose you were to go, as well as your 
107:057,08[A  ]| husband.  Leave little $PN#P1$Charles to my care.  $PN#WMr% and 
107:057,09[A  ]| $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove cannot think it wrong, while I remain 
107:057,10[A  ]| with him." 
107:057,11[P  ]| "Are you serious?" 
107:057,11['  ]| cried $PN#P$Mary, her eyes brightening. 
107:057,12[P  ]| "Dear me! that's a very good thought, very good 
107:057,13[P  ]| indeed.  To be sure I may just as well go as not, for I am 
107:057,14[P  ]| of no use at home ~~ am I? and it only harasses me.  You, 
107:057,15[P  ]| who have not a mother's feelings, are a great deal the 
107:057,16[P  ]| properest person.  You can make little $PN#P1$Charles do any*thing; 
107:057,17[P  ]| he always minds you at a word.  It will be a great 
107:057,18[P  ]| deal better than leaving him with only $PN#ZT$Jemima.  Oh! 
107:057,19[P  ]| I will certainly go; I am sure I ought if I can, quite as 
107:057,20[P  ]| much as $PN#O$Charles, for they want me excessively to be 
107:057,21[P  ]| acquainted with $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, and I know you do 
107:057,22[P  ]| not mind being left alone.  An excellent thought of yours, 
107:057,23[P  ]| indeed, $PN#A$Anne!  I will go and tell $PN#O$Charles, and get ready 
107:057,24[P  ]| directly.  You can send for us, you know, at a moment's 
107:057,25[P  ]| notice, if any*thing is the matter; but I dare say there 
107:057,26[P  ]| will be nothing to alarm you.  I should not go, you may 
107:057,27[P  ]| be sure, if I did not feel quite at ease about my dear 
107:057,28[P  ]| child." 
107:057,29['  ]| The next moment she was tapping at her husband's 
107:057,30['  ]| dressing-room door, and as $PN#A$Anne followed her up*stairs, 
107:057,31['  ]| she was in time for the whole conversation, which began 
107:057,32['  ]| with $PN#P$Mary's saying, in a tone of great exultation, 
107:057,33[P  ]| "I mean to go with you, $PN#O$Charles, for I am of no more 
107:057,34[P  ]| use at home than you are.  If I were to shut myself up 
107:057,35[P  ]| for*ever with the child, I should not be able to persuade 
107:057,36[P  ]| him to do any*thing he did not like.  $PN#A$Anne will stay; 
107:057,37[P  ]| $PN#A$Anne undertakes to stay at home and take care of him. 
107:057,38[P  ]| It is $PN#A$Anne's own proposal, and so I shall go with you, 
107:058,01[P  ]| which will be a great deal better, for I have not dined at 
107:058,02[P  ]| the other house since Tuesday." 
107:058,03[O  ]| "This is very kind of $PN#A$Anne," 
107:058,03['  ]| was her husband's answer, 
107:058,04[O  ]| "and I should be very glad to have you go; but it seems 
107:058,05[O  ]| rather hard that she should be left at home by herself, 
107:058,06[O  ]| to nurse our sick child." 
107:058,07['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was now at hand to take up her own cause, and 
107:058,08['  ]| the sincerity of her manner being soon sufficient to convince 
107:058,09['  ]| him, where conviction was at least very agreeable, 
107:058,10['  ]| he had no farther scruples as to her being left to dine 
107:058,11['  ]| alone, though he still wanted her to join them in the 
107:058,12['  ]| evening, when the child might be at rest for the night, 
107:058,13['  ]| and kindly urged her to let him come and fetch her; 
107:058,14['  ]| but she was quite unpersuadable; and this being the 
107:058,15['  ]| case, she had ere long the pleasure of seeing them set off 
107:058,16['  ]| together in high spirits.  
107:058,16@a   | They were gone, 
107:058,16['  ]| she hoped, 
107:058,16@a   | to 
107:058,17@a   | be happy, however oddly constructed such happiness 
107:058,18@a   | might seem; as for herself, she was left with as many 
107:058,19@a   | sensations of comfort, as were, perhaps, ever likely to be 
107:058,20@a   | hers.  She knew herself to be of the first utility to the 
107:058,21@a   | child; and what was it to her, if $PN#B$Frederick*Wentworth 
107:058,22@a   | were only half a mile distant, making himself agreeable 
107:058,23@a   | to others! 
107:058,24@a   | She would have liked to know how he felt as to a meeting. 
107:058,25@a   | Perhaps indifferent, if indifference could exist under 
107:058,26@a   | such circumstances.  He must be either indifferent or 
107:058,27@a   | unwilling.  Had he wished ever to see her again, he need 
107:058,28@a   | not have waited till this time; he would have done what 
107:058,29@a   | she could not but believe that in his place she should 
107:058,30@a   | have done long ago, when events had been early giving 
107:058,31@a   | him the independence which alone had been wanting. 
107:058,32['  ]| Her brother and sister came back delighted with their 
107:058,33['  ]| new acquaintance, and their visit in general.  There 
107:058,34['  ]| had been music, singing, talking, laughing, all that was 
107:058,35['  ]| most agreeable; charming manners in $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
107:058,36['  ]| no shyness or reserve; they seemed all to know 
107:058,37['  ]| each other perfectly, and he was coming the very next 
107:058,38['  ]| morning to shoot with $PN#O$Charles.  He was to come to 
107:059,01['  ]| breakfast, but not at the Cottage, though that had been 
107:059,02['  ]| proposed at first; but then he had been pressed to come 
107:059,03['  ]| to the Great*House instead, and he seemed afraid of being 
107:059,04['  ]| in $PN#P$Mrs%*Charles*Musgrove's way, on account of the child; 
107:059,05['  ]| and therefore, somehow, they hardly knew how, it ended 
107:059,06['  ]| in $PN#O$Charles's being to meet him to breakfast at his father's. 
107:059,07['  ]| $PN#A$Anne understood it. 
107:059,07@a   | He wished to avoid seeing her. 
107:059,08['  ]| He had enquired after her, she found, slightly, as might 
107:059,09['  ]| suit a former slight acquaintance, seeming to acknowledge 
107:059,10['  ]| such as she had acknowledged, actuated, perhaps, by the 
107:059,11['  ]| same view of escaping introduction when they were to 
107:059,12['  ]| meet. 
107:059,13['  ]| The morning hours of the Cottage were always later 
107:059,14['  ]| than those of the other house; and on the morrow the 
107:059,15['  ]| difference was so great, that $PN#P$Mary and $PN#A$Anne were not 
107:059,16['  ]| more than beginning breakfast when $PN#O$Charles came in to 
107:059,17['  ]| say that they were just setting off, that he was come for 
107:059,18['  ]| his dogs, that his sisters were following with $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
107:059,19['  ]| his sisters meaning to visit $PN#P$Mary and the 
107:059,20['  ]| child, and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth proposing also to wait on 
107:059,21['  ]| her for a few minutes, if not inconvenient; and though 
107:059,22['  ]| $PN#O$Charles had answered for the child's being in no such 
107:059,23['  ]| state as could make it inconvenient, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
107:059,24['  ]| would not be satisfied without his running on to give 
107:059,25['  ]| notice. 
107:059,26['  ]| $PN#P$Mary, very much gratified by this attention, was 
107:059,27['  ]| delighted to receive him; while a thousand feelings 
107:059,28['  ]| rushed on $PN#A$Anne, of which this was the most consoling, 
107:059,29['  ]| that it would soon be over.  And it was soon over.  In 
107:059,30['  ]| two minutes after $PN#O$Charles's preparation, the others 
107:059,31['  ]| appeared; they were in the drawing-room.  Her eye half 
107:059,32['  ]| met $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's; a bow, a curtsey passed; 
107:059,33['  ]| she heard his voice ~~ 
107:059,33@a   | he talked to $PN#P$Mary, said all that was 
107:059,34@a   | right; said something to the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves, enough to 
107:059,35@a   | mark an easy footing:  the room seemed full ~~ full of 
107:059,36@a   | persons and voices ~~ 
107:059,36['  ]| but a few minutes ended it.  $PN#O$Charles 
107:059,37['  ]| shewed himself at the window, all was ready, their visitor 
107:059,38['  ]| had bowed and was gone; the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves were gone 
107:060,01['  ]| too, suddenly resolving to walk to the end of the village 
107:060,02['  ]| with the sportsmen:  the room was cleared, and $PN#A$Anne 
107:060,03['  ]| might finish her breakfast as she could. 
107:060,04[A  ]| "It is over! it is over!" 
107:060,04['  ]| she repeated to herself 
107:060,05['  ]| again, and again, in nervous gratitude. 
107:060,05[A  ]| "The worst is 
107:060,06[A  ]| over!" 
107:060,07['  ]| $PN#P$Mary talked, but she could not attend.  
107:060,07@a   | She had seen 
107:060,08@a   | him.  They had met.  They had been once more in the 
107:060,09@a   | same room! 
107:060,10['  ]| Soon, however, she began to reason with herself, and 
107:060,11['  ]| try to be feeling less. 
107:060,11@a   | Eight years, almost eight years 
107:060,12@a   | had passed, since all had been given up.  How absurd to 
107:060,13@a   | be resuming the agitation which such an interval had 
107:060,14@a   | banished into distance and indistinctness!  What might 
107:060,15@a   | not eight years do?  Events of every description, changes, 
107:060,16@a   | alienations, removals, ~~ all, all must be comprised in it; 
107:060,17@a   | and oblivion of the past ~~ how natural, how certain too! 
107:060,18@a   | It included nearly a third part of her own life. 
107:060,19['  ]| Alas!  with all her reasonings, she found, that to 
107:060,20['  ]| retentive feelings eight years may be little more than 
107:060,21['  ]| nothing. 
107:060,22@a   | Now, how were his sentiments to be read?  Was this 
107:060,23@a   | like wishing to avoid her? 
107:060,23['  ]| And the next moment she 
107:060,24['  ]| was hating herself for the folly which asked the question. 
107:060,25['  ]| On one other question, which perhaps her utmost 
107:060,26['  ]| wisdom might not have prevented, she was soon spared all 
107:060,27['  ]| suspense; for after the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves had returned and 
107:060,28['  ]| finished their visit at the Cottage, she had this spontaneous 
107:060,29['  ]| information from $PN#P$Mary: 
107:060,30[P  ]| "$PN#B$Captain*Wentworth is not very gallant by you, $PN#A$Anne, 
107:060,31[P  ]| though he was so attentive to me.  $PN#R$Henrietta asked him 
107:060,32[P  ]| what he thought of you, when they went away; and he 
107:060,33[P  ]| said, 
107:060,33[B  ]| "You were so altered he should not have known 
107:060,34[B  ]| you again." 
107:060,35['  ]| $PN#P$Mary had no feelings to make her respect her sister's 
107:060,36['  ]| in a common way; but she was perfectly unsuspicious 
107:060,37['  ]| of being inflicting any peculiar wound. 
107:060,38@a   | "Altered beyond his knowledge!" 
107:060,38['  ]| $PN#A$Anne fully submitted, 
107:061,01['  ]| in silent, deep mortification. 
107:061,01@a   | Doubtless it was 
107:061,02@a   | so; 
107:061,02['  ]| and she could take no revenge, for he was not altered, 
107:061,03['  ]| or not for the worse.  She had already acknowledged it 
107:061,04['  ]| to herself, and she could not think differently, let him 
107:061,05['  ]| think of her as he would. 
107:061,05@a   | No; the years which had 
107:061,06@a   | destroyed her youth and bloom had only given him a more 
107:061,07@a   | glowing, manly, open look, in no respect lessening his 
107:061,08@a   | personal advantages. 
107:061,08['  ]| She had seen the same $PN#B$Frederick*Wentworth. 
107:061,09['  ]| 
107:061,10@b   | "So altered that he should not have known her again!" 
107:061,11['  ]| These were words which could not but dwell with her. 
107:061,12['  ]| Yet she soon began to rejoice that she had heard them. 
107:061,13['  ]| They were of sobering tendency; they allayed agitation; 
107:061,14['  ]| they composed, and consequently must make her happier. 
107:061,15['  ]| $PN#B$Frederick*Wentworth had used such words, or something 
107:061,16['  ]| like them, but without an idea that they would be carried 
107:061,17['  ]| round to her.  He had thought her wretchedly altered, and, 
107:061,18['  ]| in the first moment of appeal, had spoken as he felt. 
107:061,19@b   | He had not forgiven $PN#A$Anne*Elliot.  She had used him ill; 
107:061,20@b   | deserted and disappointed him; and worse, she had 
107:061,21@b   | shewn a feebleness of character in doing so, which his 
107:061,22@b   | own decided, confident temper could not endure.  She 
107:061,23@b   | had given him up to oblige others.  It had been the 
107:061,24@b   | effect of over-persuasion.  It had been weakness and 
107:061,25@b   | timidity. 
107:061,26@b   | He had been most warmly attached to her, and had 
107:061,27@b   | never seen a woman since whom he thought her equal; 
107:061,28@b   | but, except from some natural sensation of curiosity, he 
107:061,29@b   | had no desire of meeting her again.  Her power with him 
107:061,30@b   | was gone for*ever. 
107:061,31['  ]| It was now his object to marry.  He was rich, and being 
107:061,32['  ]| turned on shore, fully intended to settle as soon as he 
107:061,33['  ]| could be properly tempted; actually looking round, 
107:061,34['  ]| ready to fall in love with all the speed which a clear head 
107:061,35['  ]| and quick taste could allow.  He had a heart for either 
107:061,36['  ]| of the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves, if they could catch it; a heart, 
107:061,37['  ]| in short, for any pleasing young woman who came in 
107:061,38['  ]| his way, excepting $PN#A$Anne*Elliot.  This was his only secret 
107:062,01['  ]| exception, when he said to his sister, in answer to her 
107:062,02['  ]| suppositions, 
107:062,03[B  ]| "Yes, here I am, $PN#E$Sophia, quite ready to make a foolish 
107:062,04[B  ]| match.  Any*body between fifteen and thirty may have 
107:062,05[B  ]| me for asking.  A little beauty, and a few smiles, and 
107:062,06[B  ]| a few compliments to the navy, and I am a lost man. 
107:062,07[B  ]| Should not this be enough for a sailor, who has had no 
107:062,08[B  ]| society among women to make him nice?" 
107:062,09['  ]| He said it, she knew, to be contradicted.  His bright, 
107:062,10['  ]| proud eye spoke the happy conviction that he was nice; 
107:062,11['  ]| and $PN#A$Anne*Elliot was not out of his thoughts, when he 
107:062,12['  ]| more seriously described the woman he should wish to 
107:062,13['  ]| meet with. 
107:062,13[B  ]| "A strong mind, with sweetness of manner," 
107:062,14['  ]| made the first and the last of the description. 
107:062,15[B  ]| "This is the woman I want, 
107:062,15['  ]| said he. 
107:062,15[B  ]| "Something 
107:062,16[B  ]| a little inferior I shall of course put up with, but it must 
107:062,17[B  ]| not be much.  If I am a fool, I shall be a fool indeed, for 
107:062,18[B  ]| I have thought on the subject more than most men." 
108:063,01['  ]| From this time $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth and $PN#A$Anne*Elliot 
108:063,02['  ]| were repeatedly in the same circle.  They were soon dining 
108:063,03['  ]| in company together at $PN#WMr%*Musgrove's, for the little 
108:063,04['  ]| boy's state could no longer supply his aunt with a pretence 
108:063,05['  ]| for absenting herself; and this was but the beginning of 
108:063,06['  ]| other dinings and other meetings. 
108:063,07['  ]| Whether former feelings were to be renewed, must be 
108:063,08['  ]| brought to the proof; former times must undoubtedly 
108:063,09['  ]| be brought to the recollection of each; \they\ could not but 
108:063,10['  ]| be reverted to; the year of their engagement could not 
108:063,11['  ]| but be named by him, in the little narratives or descriptions 
108:063,12['  ]| which conversation called forth.  His profession 
108:063,13['  ]| qualified him, his disposition led him, to talk; and 
108:063,14[B  ]| "\That\ was in the year six;" 
108:063,14[B  ]| "\That\ happened before 
108:063,15[B  ]| I went to sea in the year six," 
108:063,15['  ]| occurred in the course of 
108:063,16['  ]| the first evening they spent together:  and though his 
108:063,17['  ]| voice did not falter, and though she had no reason to 
108:063,18['  ]| suppose his eye wandering towards her while he spoke, 
108:063,19['  ]| $PN#A$Anne felt the utter impossibility, from her knowledge of 
108:063,20['  ]| his mind, that he could be unvisited by remembrance any 
108:063,21['  ]| more than herself.  There must be the same immediate 
108:063,22['  ]| association of thought, though she was very far from 
108:063,23['  ]| conceiving it to be of equal pain. 
108:063,24@a   | They had no conversation together, no intercourse but 
108:063,25@a   | what the commonest civility required.  Once so much 
108:063,26@a   | to each other!  Now nothing!  There \had\ been a time, 
108:063,27@a   | when of all the large party now filling the drawing-room 
108:063,28@a   | at Uppercross, they would have found it most difficult 
108:063,29@a   | to cease to speak to one another.  With the exception, 
108:063,30@a   | perhaps, of $PN#D$Admiral and $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, who seemed particularly 
108:063,31@a   | attached and happy, 
108:063,31['  ]| ($PN#A$Anne could allow no other 
108:063,32['  ]| exception even among the married couples) 
108:063,32@a   | there could 
108:063,33@a   | have been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no 
108:064,01@a   | feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved.  Now 
108:064,02@a   | they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for 
108:064,03@a   | they could never become acquainted.  It was a perpetual 
108:064,04@a   | estrangement. 
108:064,05['  ]| When he talked, she heard the same voice, and discerned 
108:064,06['  ]| the same mind.  There was a very general ignorance of 
108:064,07['  ]| all naval matters throughout the party; and he was 
108:064,08['  ]| very much questioned, and especially by the two $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves, 
108:064,09['  ]| who seemed hardly to have any eyes but for him, 
108:064,10['  ]| as to the manner of living on board, daily regulations, 
108:064,11['  ]| food, hours, &c%; and their surprise at his accounts, at 
108:064,12['  ]| learning the degree of accommodation and arrangement 
108:064,13['  ]| which was practicable, drew from him some pleasant 
108:064,14['  ]| ridicule, which reminded $PN#A$Anne of the early days when 
108:064,15['  ]| she too had been ignorant, and she too had been accused 
108:064,16['  ]| of supposing sailors to be living on board without any*thing 
108:064,17['  ]| to eat, or any cook to dress it if there were, or 
108:064,18['  ]| any servant to wait, or any knife and fork to use. 
108:064,19['  ]| From thus listening and thinking, she was roused by 
108:064,20['  ]| a whisper of $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove's, who, overcome by fond 
108:064,21['  ]| regrets, could not help saying, 
108:064,22[N  ]| "Ah! $PN#A$Miss*Anne, if it had pleased Heaven to spare 
108:064,23[N  ]| my poor son, I dare say he would have been just such 
108:064,24[N  ]| another by this time." 
108:064,25['  ]| $PN#A$Anne suppressed a smile, and listened kindly, while 
108:064,26['  ]| $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove relieved her heart a little more; and for 
108:064,27['  ]| a few minutes, therefore, could not keep pace with the 
108:064,28['  ]| conversation of the others. ~~ When she could let her 
108:064,29['  ]| attention take its natural course again, she found the 
108:064,30['  ]| $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves just fetching the navy-list, ~~ (their own 
108:064,31['  ]| navy*list, the first that had ever been at Uppercross); 
108:064,32['  ]| and sitting down together to pore over it, with the 
108:064,33['  ]| professed view of finding out the ships which $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
108:064,34['  ]| had commanded. 
108:064,35[Y  ]| "Your first was the Asp, I remember; we will look 
108:064,36[Y  ]| for the Asp." 
108:064,37[B  ]| "You will not find her there. ~~ Quite worn out and 
108:064,38[B  ]| broken up.  I was the last man who commanded her. ~~ 
108:065,01[B  ]| Hardly fit for service then. ~~ Reported fit for the home 
108:065,02[B  ]| service for a year or two, ~~ and so I was sent off to the 
108:065,03[B  ]| West*Indies." 
108:065,04['  ]| The girls looked all amazement. 
108:065,05[B  ]| "The admiralty," 
108:065,05['  ]| he continued, 
108:065,05[B  ]| "entertain themselves 
108:065,06[B  ]| now and then, with sending a few hundred men to sea, 
108:065,07[B  ]| in a ship not fit to be employed.  But they have a great 
108:065,08[B  ]| many to provide for; and among the thousands that 
108:065,09[B  ]| may just as well go to the bottom as not, it is impossible 
108:065,10[B  ]| for them to distinguish the very set who may be least 
108:065,11[B  ]| missed." 
108:065,12[D  ]| "Phoo! phoo!" 
108:065,12['  ]| cried the $PN#D$admiral, 
108:065,12[D  ]| "what stuff 
108:065,13[D  ]| these young fellows talk!  Never was a better sloop than 
108:065,14[D  ]| the Asp in her day. ~~ For an old*built sloop, you would 
108:065,15[D  ]| not see her equal.  Lucky fellow to get her! ~~ He knows 
108:065,16[D  ]| there must have been twenty better men than himself 
108:065,17[D  ]| applying for her at the same time.  Lucky fellow to get 
108:065,18[D  ]| any*thing so soon, with no more interest than his." 
108:065,19[B  ]| "I felt my luck, $PN#D$admiral, I assure you;" 
108:065,19['  ]| replied 
108:065,20['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, seriously. ~~ 
108:065,20[B  ]| "I was as well satisfied 
108:065,21[B  ]| with my appointment as you can desire.  It was a great 
108:065,22[B  ]| object with me, at that time, to be at sea, ~~ a very great 
108:065,23[B  ]| object.  I wanted to be doing something." 
108:065,24[D  ]| "To be sure you did. ~~ What should a young fellow, 
108:065,25[D  ]| like you, do ashore, for half a year together? ~~ If a man 
108:065,26[D  ]| has not a wife, he soon wants to be afloat again." 
108:065,27[M  ]| "But, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth," 
108:065,27['  ]| cried $PN#M$Louisa, 
108:065,27[M  ]| "how vexed 
108:065,28[M  ]| you must have been when you came to the Asp, to see 
108:065,29[M  ]| what an old thing they had given you." 
108:065,30[B  ]| "I knew pretty well what she was, before that day;" 
108:065,31['  ]| said he, smiling. 
108:065,31[B  ]| "I had no more discoveries to make, 
108:065,32[B  ]| than you would have as to the fashion and strength of 
108:065,33[B  ]| any old pelisse, which you had seen lent about among 
108:065,34[B  ]| half your acquaintance, ever since you could remember, 
108:065,35[B  ]| and which at last, on some very wet day, is lent to yourself. 
108:065,36[B  ]| ~~ Ah! she was a dear old Asp to me.  She did all 
108:065,37[B  ]| that I wanted.  I knew she would. ~~ I knew that we 
108:065,38[B  ]| should either go to the bottom together, or that she 
108:066,01[B  ]| would be the making of me; and I never had two days 
108:066,02[B  ]| of foul weather all the time I was at sea in her; and after 
108:066,03[B  ]| taking privateers enough to be very entertaining, I had 
108:066,04[B  ]| the good luck, in my passage home the next autumn, 
108:066,05[B  ]| to fall in with the very French frigate I wanted. ~~ I brought 
108:066,06[B  ]| her into Plymouth; and here was another instance of 
108:066,07[B  ]| luck.  We had not been six hours in the Sound, when 
108:066,08[B  ]| a gale came on, which lasted four days and nights, and 
108:066,09[B  ]| which would have done for poor old Asp, in half the time; 
108:066,10[B  ]| our touch with the Great Nation not having much improved 
108:066,11[B  ]| our condition.  Four-and-twenty hours later, 
108:066,12[B  ]| and I should only have been a gallant $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
108:066,13[B  ]| in a small paragraph at one corner of the newspapers; 
108:066,14[B  ]| and being lost in only a sloop, nobody would have thought 
108:066,15[B  ]| about me." 
108:066,16['  ]| $PN#A$Anne's shudderings were to herself, alone:  but the 
108:066,17['  ]| $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves could be as open as they were sincere, 
108:066,18['  ]| in their exclamations of pity and horror. 
108:066,19[N  ]| "And so then, I suppose," 
108:066,19['  ]| said $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, in 
108:066,20['  ]| a low voice, as if thinking aloud, 
108:066,20[N  ]| "so then he went away 
108:066,21[N  ]| to the Laconia, and there he met with our poor boy. ~~ 
108:066,22[N  ]| $PN#O$Charles, my dear," 
108:066,22['  ]| (beckoning him to her), 
108:066,22[N  ]| "do ask 
108:066,23[N  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth where it was he first met with your 
108:066,24[N  ]| poor brother.  I always forget." 
108:066,25[O  ]| "It was at Gibraltar, mother, I know.  $PN#W$Dick had been 
108:066,26[O  ]| left ill at Gibraltar, with a recommendation from his 
108:066,27[O  ]| former captain to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth." 
108:066,28[N  ]| "Oh! ~~ but, $PN#O$Charles, tell $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, he need 
108:066,29[N  ]| not be afraid of mentioning poor $PN#W$Dick before me, for it 
108:066,30[N  ]| would be rather a pleasure to hear him talked of, by such 
108:066,31[N  ]| a good friend." 
108:066,32['  ]| $PN#O$Charles, being somewhat more mindful of the probabilities 
108:066,33['  ]| of the case, only nodded in reply, and walked away. 
108:066,34['  ]| The girls were now hunting for the Laconia; and 
108:066,35['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth could not deny himself the pleasure 
108:066,36['  ]| of taking the precious volume into his own hands to save 
108:066,37['  ]| them the trouble, and once more read aloud the little 
108:066,38['  ]| statement of her name and rate, and present non-commissioned 
108:067,01['  ]| class, observing over it, that 
108:067,01@b   | she too had been 
108:067,02@b   | one of the best friends man ever had. 
108:067,03[B  ]| "Ah! those were pleasant days when I had the 
108:067,04[B  ]| Laconia!  How fast I made money in her. ~~ A friend of 
108:067,05[B  ]| mine, and I, had such a lovely cruise together off the 
108:067,06[B  ]| Western*Islands. ~~ Poor $PN#J$Harville, sister!  You know how 
108:067,07[B  ]| much he wanted money ~~ worse than myself.  He had 
108:067,08[B  ]| a wife. ~~ Excellent fellow!  I shall never forget his happiness. 
108:067,09[B  ]| He felt it all, so much for her sake. ~~ I wished for 
108:067,10[B  ]| him again the next summer, when I had still the same 
108:067,11[B  ]| luck in the Mediterranean." 
108:067,12[N  ]| "And I am sure, Sir," 
108:067,12['  ]| said $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, 
108:067,12[N  ]| "it was 
108:067,13[N  ]| a lucky day for \us\, when you were put captain into that 
108:067,14[N  ]| ship.  \We\ shall never forget what you did." 
108:067,15['  ]| Her feelings made her speak low; and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
108:067,16['  ]| hearing only in part, and probably not having 
108:067,17['  ]| $PN#W$Dick*Musgrove at all near his thoughts, looked rather in 
108:067,18['  ]| suspense, and as if waiting for more. 
108:067,19[Y  ]| "My brother," 
108:067,19['  ]| whispered one of the girls; 
108:067,19[Y  ]| "mamma 
108:067,20[Y  ]| is thinking of poor $PN#W$Richard." 
108:067,21[N  ]| "Poor dear fellow!" 
108:067,21['  ]| continued $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove; 
108:067,21[N  ]| "he 
108:067,22[N  ]| was grown so steady, and such an excellent correspondent, 
108:067,23[N  ]| while he was under your care!  Ah! it would have 
108:067,24[N  ]| been a happy thing, if he had never left you.  I assure you, 
108:067,25[N  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, we are very sorry he ever left you." 
108:067,26['  ]| There was a momentary expression in $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's 
108:067,27['  ]| face at this speech, a certain glance of his bright 
108:067,28['  ]| eye, and curl of his handsome mouth, which convinced 
108:067,29['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, that 
108:067,29@a   | instead of sharing in $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove's kind 
108:067,30@a   | wishes, as to her son, he had probably been at some pains 
108:067,31@a   | to get rid of him; but it was too transient an indulgence 
108:067,32@a   | of self-amusement to be detected by any who understood 
108:067,33@a   | him less than herself; in another moment he was 
108:067,34@a   | perfectly collected and serious; and almost instantly 
108:067,35@a   | afterwards coming up to the sofa, on which she and 
108:067,36@a   | $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove were sitting, took a place by the latter, 
108:067,37@a   | and entered into conversation with her, in a low voice, 
108:067,38@a   | about her son, doing it with so much sympathy and 
108:068,01@a   | natural grace, as shewed the kindest consideration for 
108:068,02@a   | all that was real and unabsurd in the parent's feelings. 
108:068,03@a   | They were actually on the same sofa, for $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove 
108:068,04@a   | had most readily made room for him; ~~ they were divided 
108:068,05@a   | only by $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove. 
108:068,05['  ]| It was no insignificant barrier 
108:068,06['  ]| indeed.  $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove was of a comfortable substantial 
108:068,07['  ]| size, infinitely more fitted by nature to express good 
108:068,08['  ]| cheer and good*humour, than tenderness and sentiment; 
108:068,09['  ]| and while the agitations of $PN#A$Anne's slender form, and 
108:068,10['  ]| pensive face, may be considered as very completely 
108:068,11['  ]| screened, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth should be allowed some 
108:068,12['  ]| credit for the self-command with which he attended to 
108:068,13['  ]| her large fat sighings over the destiny of a son, whom 
108:068,14['  ]| alive nobody had cared for. 
108:068,15['  ]| Personal size and mental sorrow have certainly no 
108:068,16['  ]| necessary proportions.  A large bulky figure has as good 
108:068,17['  ]| a right to be in deep affliction, as the most graceful set 
108:068,18['  ]| of limbs in the world.  But, fair or not fair, there are 
108:068,19['  ]| unbecoming conjunctions, which reason will patronize 
108:068,20['  ]| in vain, ~~ which taste cannot tolerate, ~~ which ridicule 
108:068,21['  ]| will seize. 
108:068,22['  ]| The $PN#D$admiral, after taking two or three refreshing turns 
108:068,23['  ]| about the room with his hands behind him, being called 
108:068,24['  ]| to order by his wife, now came up to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
108:068,25['  ]| and without any observation of what he might be interrupting, 
108:068,26['  ]| thinking only of his own thoughts, began with, 
108:068,27[D  ]| "If you had been a week later at Lisbon, last spring, 
108:068,28[D  ]| $PN#B$Frederick, you would have been asked to give a passage 
108:068,29[D  ]| to $PN#ZN$Lady*Mary*Grierson and her daughters." 
108:068,30[B  ]| "Should I?  I am glad I was not a week later then." 
108:068,31['  ]| The $PN#D$admiral abused him for his want of gallantry.  He 
108:068,32['  ]| defended himself; though professing that 
108:068,32@b   | he would never 
108:068,33@b   | willingly admit any ladies on board a ship of his, excepting 
108:068,34@b   | for a ball, or a visit, which a few hours might comprehend. 
108:068,35[B  ]| "But, if I know myself," 
108:068,35['  ]| said he, 
108:068,35[B  ]| "this is from no 
108:068,36[B  ]| want of gallantry towards them.  It is rather from feeling 
108:068,37[B  ]| how impossible it is, with all one's efforts, and all one's 
108:068,38[B  ]| sacrifices, to make the accommodations on board, such 
108:069,01[B  ]| as women ought to have.  There can be no want of 
108:069,02[B  ]| gallantry, $PN#D$admiral, in rating the claims of women to every 
108:069,03[B  ]| personal comfort \high\ ~~ and this is what I do.  I hate to 
108:069,04[B  ]| hear of women on board, or to see them on board; and 
108:069,05[B  ]| no ship, under my command, shall ever convey a family 
108:069,06[B  ]| of ladies any*where, if I can help it." 
108:069,07['  ]| This brought his sister upon him. 
108:069,08[E  ]| "Oh $PN#B$Frederick! ~~ But I cannot believe it of you. ~~ All 
108:069,09[E  ]| idle refinement! ~~ Women may be as comfortable on 
108:069,10[E  ]| board, as in the best house in England.  I believe I have 
108:069,11[E  ]| lived as much on board as most women, and I know 
108:069,12[E  ]| nothing superior to the accommodations of a man*of*war. 
108:069,13[E  ]| I declare I have not a comfort or an indulgence 
108:069,14[E  ]| about me, even at Kellynch-hall," 
108:069,14['  ]| (with a kind bow to 
108:069,15['  ]| $PN#A$Anne) 
108:069,15[E  ]| "beyond what I always had in most of the ships 
108:069,16[E  ]| I have lived in; and they have been five altogether." 
108:069,17[B  ]| "Nothing to the purpose," 
108:069,17['  ]| replied her brother. 
108:069,17[B  ]| "You 
108:069,18[B  ]| were living with your husband; and were the only 
108:069,19[B  ]| woman on board." 
108:069,20[E  ]| "But you, yourself, brought $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville, her sister, 
108:069,21[E  ]| her cousin, and the three children, round from Portsmouth 
108:069,22[E  ]| to Plymouth.  Where was this superfine, extraordinary 
108:069,23[E  ]| sort of gallantry of yours, then?" 
108:069,24[B  ]| "All merged in my friendship, $PN#E$Sophia.  I would assist 
108:069,25[B  ]| any brother officer's wife that I could, and I would bring 
108:069,26[B  ]| any*thing of $PN#J$Harville's from the world's end, if he wanted 
108:069,27[B  ]| it.  But do not imagine that I did not feel it an evil in 
108:069,28[B  ]| itself." 
108:069,29[E  ]| "Depend upon it they were all perfectly comfortable." 
108:069,30[B  ]| "I might not like them the better for that, perhaps. 
108:069,31[B  ]| Such a number of women and children have no \right\ to 
108:069,32[B  ]| be comfortable on board." 
108:069,33[E  ]| "My dear $PN#B$Frederick, you are talking quite idly.  Pray, 
108:069,34[E  ]| what would become of us poor sailors' wives, who often 
108:069,35[E  ]| want to be conveyed to one port or another, after our 
108:069,36[E  ]| husbands, if every*body had your feelings?" 
108:069,37[B  ]| "My feelings, you see, did not prevent my taking 
108:069,38[B  ]| $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville, and all her family, to Plymouth." 
108:070,01[E  ]| "But I hate to hear you talking so, like a fine gentleman, 
108:070,02[E  ]| and as if women were all fine ladies, instead of 
108:070,03[E  ]| rational creatures.  We none of us expect to be in smooth 
108:070,04[E  ]| water all our days." 
108:070,05[D  ]| "Ah! my dear," 
108:070,05['  ]| said the $PN#D$admiral, 
108:070,05[D  ]| "when he has got 
108:070,06[D  ]| a wife, he will sing a different tune.  When he is married, 
108:070,07[D  ]| if we have the good luck to live to another war, we shall 
108:070,08[D  ]| see him do as you and I, and a great many others, have 
108:070,09[D  ]| done.  We shall have him very thankful to any*body that 
108:070,10[D  ]| will bring him his wife." 
108:070,11[E  ]| "Ay, that we shall." 
108:070,12[B  ]| "Now I have done," 
108:070,12['  ]| cried $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth ~~ 
108:070,13[B  ]| "When once married people begin to attack me with, 
108:070,14[B  ]| ""Oh! you will think very differently, when you are 
108:070,15[B  ]| married.""  I can only say, ""No, I shall not;"" and then 
108:070,16[B  ]| they say again, ""Yes, you will,"" and there is an end of it." 
108:070,17['  ]| He got up and moved away. 
108:070,18[N  ]| "What a great traveller you must have been, ma'am!" 
108:070,19['  ]| said $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove to $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft. 
108:070,20[E  ]| "Pretty well, ma'am, in the fifteen years of my 
108:070,21[E  ]| marriage; though many women have done more.  I have 
108:070,22[E  ]| crossed the Atlantic four times, and have been once to 
108:070,23[E  ]| the East*Indies, and back again; and only once, besides 
108:070,24[E  ]| being in different places about home ~~ Cork, and Lisbon, 
108:070,25[E  ]| and Gibraltar.  But I never went beyond the Streights ~~ 
108:070,26[E  ]| and never was in the West*Indies.  We do not call 
108:070,27[E  ]| Bermuda or Bahama, you know, the West*Indies." 
108:070,28['  ]| $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove had not a word to say in dissent; she 
108:070,29['  ]| could not accuse herself of having ever called them any*thing 
108:070,30['  ]| in the whole course of her life. 
108:070,31[E  ]| "And I do assure you, ma'am," 
108:070,31['  ]| pursued $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, 
108:070,32[E  ]| "that nothing can exceed the accommodations of a man*of*war; 
108:070,33[E  ]| I speak, you know, of the higher rates.  When 
108:070,34[E  ]| you come to a frigate, of course, you are more confined ~~ 
108:070,35[E  ]| though any reasonable woman may be perfectly happy 
108:070,36[E  ]| in one of them; and I can safely say, that the happiest 
108:070,37[E  ]| part of my life has been spent on board a ship.  While we 
108:070,38[E  ]| were together, you know, there was nothing to be feared. 
108:071,01[E  ]| Thank God!  I have always been blessed with excellent 
108:071,02[E  ]| health, and no climate disagrees with me.  A little disordered 
108:071,03[E  ]| always the first twenty-four hours of going to 
108:071,04[E  ]| sea, but never knew what sickness was afterwards.  The 
108:071,05[E  ]| only time that I ever really suffered in body or mind, the 
108:071,06[E  ]| only time that I ever fancied myself unwell, or had any 
108:071,07[E  ]| ideas of danger, was the winter that I passed by myself 
108:071,08[E  ]| at Deal, when the $PN#D$Admiral (\$PN#D$Captain\*Croft then) was in 
108:071,09[E  ]| the North*Seas.  I lived in perpetual fright at that time, 
108:071,10[E  ]| and had all manner of imaginary complaints from not 
108:071,11[E  ]| knowing what to do with myself, or when I should hear 
108:071,12[E  ]| from him next; but as long as we could be together, 
108:071,13[E  ]| nothing ever ailed me, and I never met with the smallest 
108:071,14[E  ]| inconvenience." 
108:071,15[N  ]| "Ay, to be sure. ~~ Yes, indeed, oh yes, I am quite of 
108:071,16[N  ]| your opinion, $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft," 
108:071,16['  ]| was $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove's hearty 
108:071,17['  ]| answer. 
108:071,17[N  ]| "There is nothing so bad as a separation.  I am 
108:071,18[N  ]| quite of your opinion.  \I\ know what it is, for $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove 
108:071,19[N  ]| always attends the assizes, and I am so glad when they 
108:071,20[N  ]| are over, and he is safe back again." 
108:071,21['  ]| The evening ended with dancing.  On its being proposed, 
108:071,22['  ]| $PN#A$Anne offered her services, as usual, and though her eyes 
108:071,23['  ]| would sometimes fill with tears as she sat at the instrument, 
108:071,24['  ]| she was extremely glad to be employed, and desired 
108:071,25['  ]| nothing in return but to be unobserved. 
108:071,26['  ]| It was a merry, joyous party, and no*one seemed in 
108:071,27['  ]| higher spirits than $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth.  She felt that he 
108:071,28['  ]| had every*thing to elevate him, which general attention 
108:071,29['  ]| and deference, and especially the attention of all the 
108:071,30['  ]| young women could do. 
108:071,30@a   | The $PN#ZR$Miss*Hayters, the females 
108:071,31@a   | of the family of cousins already mentioned, were apparently 
108:071,32@a   | admitted to the honour of being in love with him; 
108:071,33@a   | and as for $PN#R$Henrietta and $PN#M$Louisa, they both seemed so 
108:071,34@a   | entirely occupied by him, that nothing but the continued 
108:071,35@a   | appearance of the most perfect good-will between themselves, 
108:071,36@a   | could have made it credible that they were not 
108:071,37@a   | decided rivals.  If he were a little spoilt by such universal, 
108:071,38@a   | such eager admiration, who could wonder? 
108:072,01['  ]| These were some of the thoughts which occupied $PN#A$Anne, 
108:072,02['  ]| while her fingers were mechanically at work, proceeding 
108:072,03['  ]| for half an hour together, equally without error, and without 
108:072,04['  ]| consciousness.  \Once\ she felt that he was looking at 
108:072,05['  ]| herself ~~ 
108:072,05@a   | observing her altered features, perhaps, trying to 
108:072,06@a   | trace in them the ruins of the face which had once charmed 
108:072,07@a   | him; 
108:072,07['  ]| and \once\ she knew that he must have spoken of 
108:072,08['  ]| her; ~~ she was hardly aware of it, till she heard the 
108:072,09['  ]| answer; but then she was sure of his having asked his 
108:072,10['  ]| partner whether $PN#A$Miss*Elliot never danced?  The answer 
108:072,11['  ]| was, 
108:072,11[X  ]| "Oh! no, never; she has quite given up dancing. 
108:072,12[X  ]| She had rather play.  She is never tired of playing." 
108:072,13['  ]| Once, too, he spoke to her.  She had left the instrument 
108:072,14['  ]| on the dancing being over, and he had sat down to try 
108:072,15['  ]| to make out an air which he wished to give the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves 
108:072,16['  ]| an idea of.  Unintentionally she returned to that 
108:072,17['  ]| part of the room; he saw her, and, instantly rising, said, 
108:072,18['  ]| with studied politeness, 
108:072,19[B  ]| "I beg your pardon, madam, this is your seat;" 
108:072,19['  ]| and 
108:072,20['  ]| though she immediately drew back with a decided 
108:072,21['  ]| negative, he was not to be induced to sit down again. 
108:072,22['  ]| $PN#A$Anne did not wish for more of such looks and speeches. 
108:072,23@a   | His cold politeness, his ceremonious grace, were worse 
108:072,24@a   | than any*thing. 
109:073,01['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was come to Kellynch as to 
109:073,02['  ]| a home, to stay as long as he liked, being as thoroughly 
109:073,03['  ]| the object of the $PN#D$Admiral's fraternal kindness as of his 
109:073,04['  ]| wife's.  He had intended, on first arriving, to proceed 
109:073,05['  ]| very soon into Shropshire, and visit the brother settled 
109:073,06['  ]| in that county, but the attractions of Uppercross induced 
109:073,07['  ]| him to put this off.  There was so much of friendliness, 
109:073,08['  ]| and of flattery, and of every*thing most bewitching in 
109:073,09['  ]| his reception there; the old were so hospitable, the 
109:073,10['  ]| young so agreeable, that he could not but resolve to remain 
109:073,11['  ]| where he was, and take all the charms and perfections of 
109:073,12['  ]| $PN#ZZO$Edward's wife upon credit a little longer. 
109:073,13['  ]| It was soon Uppercross with him almost every day. 
109:073,14['  ]| The $PN#W1$Musgroves could hardly be more ready to invite than 
109:073,15['  ]| he to come, particularly in the morning, when he had 
109:073,16['  ]| no companion at home, for the $PN#D$Admiral and $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft 
109:073,17['  ]| were generally out of doors together, interesting themselves 
109:073,18['  ]| in their new possessions, their grass, and their sheep, and 
109:073,19['  ]| dawdling about in a way not endurable to a third person, 
109:073,20['  ]| or driving out in a gig, lately added to their establishment. 
109:073,21['  ]| Hitherto there had been but one opinion of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
109:073,22['  ]| among the $PN#W1$Musgroves and their dependencies. 
109:073,23['  ]| It was unvarying, warm admiration every*where.  But 
109:073,24['  ]| this intimate footing was not more than established, when 
109:073,25['  ]| a certain $PN#L$Charles*Hayter returned among them, to be 
109:073,26['  ]| a good deal disturbed by it, and to think $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
109:073,27['  ]| very much in the way. 
109:073,28['  ]| $PN#L$Charles*Hayter was the eldest of all the cousins, and 
109:073,29['  ]| a very amiable, pleasing young man, between whom and 
109:073,30['  ]| $PN#R$Henrietta there had been a considerable appearance of 
109:073,31['  ]| attachment previous to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's introduction. 
109:073,32['  ]| He was in orders, and having a curacy in the 
109:073,33['  ]| neighbourhood where residence was not required, lived 
109:074,01['  ]| at his father's house, only two miles from Uppercross. 
109:074,02['  ]| A short absence from home had left his fair one unguarded 
109:074,03['  ]| by his attentions at this critical period, and when he 
109:074,04['  ]| came back he had the pain of finding very altered manners, 
109:074,05['  ]| and of seeing $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth. 
109:074,06['  ]| $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove and $PN#ZQ$Mrs%*Hayter were sisters.  They 
109:074,07['  ]| had each had money, but their marriages had made 
109:074,08['  ]| a material difference in their degree of consequence. 
109:074,09['  ]| $PN#ZP$Mr%*Hayter had some property of his own, but it was 
109:074,10['  ]| insignificant compared with $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove's; and while 
109:074,11['  ]| the $PN#W1$Musgroves were in the first class of society in the 
109:074,12['  ]| country, the young $PN#ZQ1$Hayters would, from their parents' 
109:074,13['  ]| inferior, retired, and unpolished way of living, and their 
109:074,14['  ]| own defective education, have been hardly in any class 
109:074,15['  ]| at all, but for their connexion with Uppercross; this 
109:074,16['  ]| eldest son of course excepted, who had chosen to be a 
109:074,17['  ]| scholar and a gentleman, and who was very superior in 
109:074,18['  ]| cultivation and manners to all the rest. 
109:074,19['  ]| The two families had always been on excellent terms, 
109:074,20['  ]| there being no pride on one side, and no envy on the 
109:074,21['  ]| other, and only such a consciousness of superiority in 
109:074,22['  ]| the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves, as made them pleased to improve 
109:074,23['  ]| their cousins. ~~ $PN#L$Charles's attentions to $PN#R$Henrietta had been 
109:074,24['  ]| observed by her father and mother without any disapprobation. 
109:074,25[Y  ]| "It would not be a great match for her; but 
109:074,26[Y  ]| if $PN#R$Henrietta liked him, ~~ and $PN#R$Henrietta \did\ seem to like 
109:074,27[Y  ]| him." 
109:074,28['  ]| $PN#R$Henrietta fully thought so herself, before $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
109:074,29['  ]| came; but from that time $PN#L$Cousin*Charles 
109:074,30['  ]| had been very much forgotten. 
109:074,31['  ]| Which of the two sisters was preferred by $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
109:074,32['  ]| was as yet quite doubtful, as far as $PN#A$Anne's 
109:074,33['  ]| observation reached. 
109:074,33@a   | $PN#R$Henrietta was perhaps the prettiest, 
109:074,34@a   | $PN#M$Louisa had the higher spirits; and she knew not \now\, 
109:074,35@a   | whether the more gentle or the more lively character 
109:074,36@a   | were most likely to attract him. 
109:074,37['  ]| $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, either from seeing little, or 
109:074,38['  ]| from an entire confidence in the discretion of both their 
109:075,01['  ]| daughters, and of all the young men who came near them, 
109:075,02['  ]| seemed to leave every*thing to take its chance.  There 
109:075,03['  ]| was not the smallest appearance of solicitude or remark 
109:075,04['  ]| about them, in the Mansion-house; but it was different 
109:075,05['  ]| at the Cottage:  the young couple there were more disposed 
109:075,06['  ]| to speculate and wonder; and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
109:075,07['  ]| had not been above four or five times in the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves' 
109:075,08['  ]| company, and $PN#L$Charles*Hayter had but just 
109:075,09['  ]| reappeared, when $PN#A$Anne had to listen to the opinions of 
109:075,10['  ]| her brother and sister, as to \which\ was the one liked best. 
109:075,11['  ]| $PN#O$Charles gave it for $PN#M$Louisa, $PN#P$Mary for $PN#R$Henrietta, but 
quite 
109:075,12['  ]| agreeing that to have him marry either would be extremely 
109:075,13['  ]| delightful. 
109:075,14['  ]| $PN#O$Charles 
109:075,14[O  ]| "had never seen a pleasanter man in his life; 
109:075,15[O  ]| and from what he had once heard $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
109:075,16[O  ]| himself say, was very sure that he had not made less than 
109:075,17[O  ]| twenty thousand pounds by the war.  Here was a fortune 
109:075,18[O  ]| at once; besides which, there would be the chance of 
109:075,19[O  ]| what might be done in any future war;  and he was sure 
109:075,20[O  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was as likely a man to distinguish 
109:075,21[O  ]| himself as any officer in the navy.  Oh!  it would be 
109:075,22[O  ]| a capital match for either of his sisters." 
109:075,23[P  ]| "Upon my word it would," 
109:075,23['  ]| replied $PN#P$Mary. 
109:075,23[P  ]| "Dear 
109:075,24[P  ]| me!  If he should rise to any very great honours!  If 
109:075,25[P  ]| he should ever be made a Baronet!  ""$PN#X$Lady*Wentworth"" 
109:075,26[P  ]| sounds very well.  That would be a noble thing, indeed, 
109:075,27[P  ]| for $PN#R$Henrietta!  She would take place of me then, and 
109:075,28[P  ]| $PN#R$Henrietta would not dislike that.  $PN#X$Sir*Frederick and 
109:075,29[P  ]| $PN#X$Lady*Wentworth!  It would be but a new creation, 
109:075,30[P  ]| however, and I never think much of your new creations." 
109:075,31['  ]| It suited $PN#P$Mary best to think $PN#R$Henrietta the one preferred, 
109:075,32['  ]| on the very account of $PN#L$Charles*Hayter, whose pretensions 
109:075,33['  ]| she wished to see put an end to.  She looked down very 
109:075,34['  ]| decidedly upon the $PN#ZP1$Hayters, and thought it would be 
109:075,35['  ]| quite a misfortune to have the existing connection between 
109:075,36['  ]| the families renewed ~~ very sad for herself and her 
109:075,37['  ]| children. 
109:075,38[P  ]| "You know," 
109:075,38['  ]| said she, 
109:075,38[P  ]| "I cannot think him at all 
109:076,01[P  ]| a fit match for $PN#R$Henrietta; and considering the alliances 
109:076,02[P  ]| which the $PN#W1$Musgroves have made, she has no right to 
109:076,03[P  ]| throw herself away.  I do not think any young woman 
109:076,04[P  ]| has a right to make a choice that may be disagreeable and 
109:076,05[P  ]| inconvenient to the \principal\ part of her family, and be 
109:076,06[P  ]| giving bad connections to those who have not been used 
109:076,07[P  ]| to them.  And, pray, who is $PN#L$Charles*Hayter?  Nothing 
109:076,08[P  ]| but a country curate.  A most improper match for 
109:076,09[P  ]| $PN#R$Miss*Musgrove, of Uppercross." 
109:076,10['  ]| Her husband, however, would not agree with her 
109:076,11['  ]| here; for besides having a regard for his cousin, $PN#L$Charles*Hayter 
109:076,12['  ]| was an eldest son, and he saw things as an eldest 
109:076,13['  ]| son himself. 
109:076,14[O  ]| "Now you are talking nonsense, $PN#P$Mary," 
109:076,14['  ]| was therefore 
109:076,15['  ]| his answer. 
109:076,15[O  ]| "It would not be a \great\ match for $PN#R$Henrietta, 
109:076,16[O  ]| but $PN#L$Charles has a very fair chance, through the $PN#ZZI$Spicers, 
109:076,17[O  ]| of getting something from the Bishop in the course of 
109:076,18[O  ]| a year or two; and you will please to remember, that he 
109:076,19[O  ]| is the eldest son; whenever my uncle dies, he steps into 
109:076,20[O  ]| very pretty property.  The estate at Winthrop is not less 
109:076,21[O  ]| than two hundred and fifty acres, besides the farm near 
109:076,22[O  ]| Taunton, which is some of the best land in the country. 
109:076,23[O  ]| I grant you, that any of them but $PN#L$Charles would be a very 
109:076,24[O  ]| shocking match for $PN#R$Henrietta, and indeed it could not 
109:076,25[O  ]| be; he is the only one that could be possible; but he 
109:076,26[O  ]| is a very good-natured, good sort of a fellow; and 
109:076,27[O  ]| whenever Winthrop comes into his hands, he will make 
109:076,28[O  ]| a different sort of place of it, and live in a very different 
109:076,29[O  ]| sort of way; and with that property, he will never be 
109:076,30[O  ]| a contemptible man.  Good, freehold property.  No, no; 
109:076,31[O  ]| $PN#R$Henrietta might do worse than marry $PN#L$Charles*Hayter; 
109:076,32[O  ]| and if she has him, and $PN#M$Louisa can get $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
109:076,33[O  ]| I shall be very well satisfied." 
109:076,34[P  ]| "$PN#O$Charles may say what he pleases," 
109:076,34['  ]| cried $PN#P$Mary to 
109:076,35['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, as soon as he was out of the room, 
109:076,35[P  ]| "but it would 
109:076,36[P  ]| be shocking to have $PN#R$Henrietta marry $PN#L$Charles*Hayter; 
109:076,37[P  ]| a very bad thing for \her\, and still worse for \me\; and 
109:076,38[P  ]| therefore it is very much to be wished that $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
109:077,01[P  ]| may soon put him quite out of her head, and I have 
109:077,02[P  ]| very little doubt that he has.  She took hardly any 
109:077,03[P  ]| notice of $PN#L$Charles*Hayter yesterday.  I wish you had been 
109:077,04[P  ]| there to see her behaviour.  And as to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's 
109:077,05[P  ]| liking $PN#M$Louisa as well as $PN#R$Henrietta, it is nonsense to say 
109:077,06[P  ]| so; for he certainly \does\ like $PN#R$Henrietta a great deal the 
109:077,07[P  ]| best.  But $PN#O$Charles is so positive!  I wish you had been 
109:077,08[P  ]| with us yesterday, for then you might have decided 
109:077,09[P  ]| between us; and I am sure you would have thought 
109:077,10[P  ]| as I did, unless you had been determined to give it 
109:077,11[P  ]| against me." 
109:077,12['  ]| A dinner at $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove's had been the occasion, 
109:077,13['  ]| when all these things should have been seen by $PN#A$Anne; 
109:077,14['  ]| but she had staid at home, under the mixed plea of 
109:077,15['  ]| a head-ache of her own, and some return of indisposition 
109:077,16['  ]| in little $PN#P1$Charles.  She had thought only of avoiding 
109:077,17['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth; but an escape from being appealed 
109:077,18['  ]| to as umpire, was now added to the advantages of a quiet 
109:077,19['  ]| evening. 
109:077,20['  ]| As to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's views, she deemed it of 
109:077,21['  ]| more consequence that he should know his own mind, 
109:077,22['  ]| early enough not to be endangering the happiness of 
109:077,23['  ]| either sister, or impeaching his own honour, than that 
109:077,24['  ]| he should prefer $PN#R$Henrietta to $PN#M$Louisa, or $PN#M$Louisa to 
$PN#R$Henrietta. 
109:077,25['  ]| Either of them would, in all probability, make 
109:077,26['  ]| him an affectionate, good-humoured wife.  With regard 
109:077,27['  ]| to $PN#L$Charles*Hayter, she had delicacy which must be pained 
109:077,28['  ]| by any lightness of conduct in a well-meaning young 
109:077,29['  ]| woman, and a heart to sympathize in any of the sufferings 
109:077,30['  ]| it occasioned; but if $PN#R$Henrietta found herself mistaken 
109:077,31['  ]| in the nature of her feelings, the alteration could not be 
109:077,32['  ]| understood too soon. 
109:077,33['  ]| $PN#L$Charles*Hayter had met with much to disquiet and 
109:077,34['  ]| mortify him in his cousin's behaviour.  She had too old 
109:077,35['  ]| a regard for him to be so wholly estranged, as might in 
109:077,36['  ]| two meetings extinguish every past hope, and leave him 
109:077,37['  ]| nothing to do but to keep away from Uppercross; but 
109:077,38['  ]| there was such a change as became very alarming, when 
109:078,01['  ]| such a man as $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was to be regarded 
109:078,02['  ]| as the probable cause.  He had been absent only two 
109:078,03['  ]| Sundays; and when they parted, had left her interested 
109:078,04['  ]| even to the height of his wishes, in his prospect of soon 
109:078,05['  ]| quitting his present curacy, and obtaining that of Uppercross 
109:078,06['  ]| instead.  It had then seemed the object nearest her 
109:078,07['  ]| heart, that $PN#ZZE$Dr%*Shirley, the rector, who for more than 
109:078,08['  ]| forty years had been zealously discharging all the duties 
109:078,09['  ]| of his office, but was now growing too infirm for many of 
109:078,10['  ]| them, should be quite fixed on engaging a curate; should 
109:078,11['  ]| make his curacy quite as good as he could afford, and 
109:078,12['  ]| should give $PN#L$Charles*Hayter the promise of it.  The 
109:078,13['  ]| advantage of his having to come only to Uppercross, 
109:078,14['  ]| instead of going six miles another way; of his having, 
109:078,15['  ]| in every respect, a better curacy; of his belonging to 
109:078,16['  ]| their dear $PN#ZZE$Dr%*Shirley, and of dear, good $PN#ZZE$Dr%*Shirley's 
109:078,17['  ]| being relieved from the duty which he could no longer 
109:078,18['  ]| get through without most injurious fatigue, had been 
109:078,19['  ]| a great deal, even to $PN#M$Louisa, but had been almost every*thing 
109:078,20['  ]| to $PN#R$Henrietta.  When he came back, alas!  the zeal 
109:078,21['  ]| of the business was gone by.  $PN#M$Louisa could not listen at 
109:078,22['  ]| all to his account of a conversation which he had just 
109:078,23['  ]| held with $PN#ZZE$Dr%*Shirley:  she was at window, looking out 
109:078,24['  ]| for $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth; and even $PN#R$Henrietta had at 
109:078,25['  ]| best only a divided attention to give, and seemed to have 
109:078,26['  ]| forgotten all the former doubt and solicitude of the 
109:078,27['  ]| negociation. 
109:078,28[R  ]| "Well, I am very glad indeed, but I always thought 
109:078,29[R  ]| you would have it; I always thought you sure.  It did 
109:078,30[R  ]| not appear to me that ~~ In short, you know, $PN#ZZE$Dr%*Shirley 
109:078,31[R  ]| must have a curate, and you had secured his promise. 
109:078,32[R  ]| Is he coming, $PN#M$Louisa?" 
109:078,33['  ]| One morning, very soon after the dinner at the $PN#W1$Musgroves, 
109:078,34['  ]| at which $PN#A$Anne had not been present, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
109:078,35['  ]| walked into the drawing-room at the Cottage, 
109:078,36['  ]| where were only herself and the little invalid $PN#P1$Charles, 
109:078,37['  ]| who was lying on the sofa. 
109:078,38['  ]| The surprise of finding himself almost alone with $PN#A$Anne*Elliot, 
109:079,01['  ]| deprived his manners of their usual composure: 
109:079,02['  ]| he started, and could only say, 
109:079,02[B  ]| "I thought the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves 
109:079,03[B  ]| had been here ~~ $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove told me I should 
109:079,04[B  ]| find them here," 
109:079,04['  ]| before he walked to the window to 
109:079,05['  ]| recollect himself, and feel how he ought to behave. 
109:079,06[A  ]| "They are up*stairs with my sister ~~ they will be down 
109:079,07[A  ]| in a few moments, I dare say," ~~ 
109:079,07['  ]| had been $PN#A$Anne's reply, 
109:079,08['  ]| in all the confusion that was natural; and if the child 
109:079,09['  ]| had not called her to come and do something for him, 
109:079,10['  ]| she would have been out of the room the next moment, 
109:079,11['  ]| and released $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth as well as herself. 
109:079,12['  ]| He continued at the window; and after calmly and 
109:079,13['  ]| politely saying, 
109:079,13[B  ]| "I hope the little boy is better," 
109:079,13['  ]| was 
109:079,14['  ]| silent. 
109:079,15['  ]| She was obliged to kneel down by the sofa, and remain 
109:079,16['  ]| there to satisfy her patient; and thus they continued 
109:079,17['  ]| a few minutes, when, to her very great satisfaction, she 
109:079,18['  ]| heard some other person crossing the little vestibule. 
109:079,19['  ]| She hoped, on turning her head, to see the master of the 
109:079,20['  ]| house; but it proved to be one much less calculated for 
109:079,21['  ]| making matters easy ~~ $PN#L$Charles*Hayter, probably not at 
109:079,22['  ]| all better pleased by the sight of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
109:079,23['  ]| than $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth had been by the sight of $PN#A$Anne. 
109:079,24['  ]| She only attempted to say, 
109:079,24[A  ]| "How do you do?  Will 
109:079,25[A  ]| not you sit down?  The others will be here presently." 
109:079,26['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, however, came from his window, 
109:079,27['  ]| apparently not ill-disposed for conversation; but $PN#L$Charles*Hayter 
109:079,28['  ]| soon put an end to his attempts, by seating 
109:079,29['  ]| himself near the table, and taking up the newspaper; 
109:079,30['  ]| and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth returned to his window. 
109:079,31['  ]| Another minute brought another addition.  The younger 
109:079,32['  ]| boy, a remarkable stout, forward child, of two years old, 
109:079,33['  ]| having got the door opened for him by some*one without, 
109:079,34['  ]| made his determined appearance among them, and went 
109:079,35['  ]| straight to the sofa to see what was going on, and put in 
109:079,36['  ]| his claim to any*thing good that might be giving away. 
109:079,37['  ]| There being nothing to be eat, he could only have some 
109:079,38['  ]| play; and as his aunt would not let him teaze his sick 
109:080,01['  ]| brother, he began to fasten himself upon her, as she 
109:080,02['  ]| knelt, in such a way that, busy as she was about $PN#P1$Charles, 
109:080,03['  ]| she could not shake him off.  She spoke to him ~~ ordered, 
109:080,04['  ]| intreated, and insisted in vain.  Once she did contrive 
109:080,05['  ]| to push him away, but the boy had the greater pleasure 
109:080,06['  ]| in getting upon her back again directly. 
109:080,07[A  ]| "$PN#P2$Walter," 
109:080,07['  ]| said she, 
109:080,07[A  ]| "get down this moment.  You are 
109:080,08[A  ]| extremely troublesome.  I am very angry with you." 
109:080,09[L  ]| "$PN#P2$Walter," 
109:080,09['  ]| cried $PN#L$Charles*Hayter, 
109:080,09[L  ]| "why do you not 
109:080,10[L  ]| do as you are bid?  Do not you hear your aunt speak? 
109:080,11[L  ]| Come to me, $PN#P2$Walter, come to $PN#L$cousin*Charles." 
109:080,12['  ]| But not a bit did $PN#P2$Walter stir. 
109:080,13['  ]| In another moment, however, she found herself in the 
109:080,14['  ]| state of being released from him; 
109:080,14@a   | some*one was taking him 
109:080,15@a   | from her, 
109:080,15['  ]| though he had bent down her head so much, 
109:080,16['  ]| that his little sturdy hands were unfastened from around 
109:080,17['  ]| her neck, and he was resolutely borne away, before she 
109:080,18['  ]| knew that $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth had done it. 
109:080,19['  ]| Her sensations on the discovery made her perfectly 
109:080,20['  ]| speechless.  She could not even thank him.  She could 
109:080,21['  ]| only hang over little $PN#P1$Charles, with most disordered feelings. 
109:080,22@a   | His kindness in stepping forward to her relief ~~ the manner 
109:080,23@a   | ~~ the silence in which it had passed ~~ the little particulars 
109:080,24@a   | of the circumstance ~~ 
109:080,24['  ]| with the conviction soon forced on 
109:080,25['  ]| her by the noise he was studiously making with the 
109:080,26['  ]| child, that 
109:080,26@a   | he meant to avoid hearing her thanks, and 
109:080,27@a   | rather sought to testify that her conversation was the last 
109:080,28@a   | of his wants, 
109:080,28['  ]| produced such a confusion of varying, but 
109:080,29['  ]| very painful agitation, as she could not recover from, 
109:080,30['  ]| till enabled by the entrance of $PN#P$Mary and the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves 
109:080,31['  ]| to make over her little patient to their cares, and 
109:080,32['  ]| leave the room. 
109:080,32@a   | She could not stay.  It might have been 
109:080,33@a   | an opportunity of watching the loves and jealousies of 
109:080,34@a   | the four; they were now all together, but she could stay 
109:080,35@a   | for none of it.  It was evident that $PN#L$Charles*Hayter was 
109:080,36@a   | not well inclined towards $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth. 
109:080,36['  ]| She had 
109:080,37['  ]| a strong impression of his having said, in a vext tone of 
109:080,38['  ]| voice, after $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's interference, 
109:080,38[L  ]| "You 
109:081,01[L  ]| ought to have minded \me\, $PN#P2$Walter; I told you not to 
109:081,02[L  ]| teaze your aunt;" 
109:081,02['  ]| and could comprehend his regretting 
109:081,03['  ]| that $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth should do what he ought to 
109:081,04['  ]| have done himself.  But neither $PN#L$Charles*Hayter's feelings, 
109:081,05['  ]| nor any*body's feelings, could interest her, till she had 
109:081,06['  ]| a little better arranged her own.  She was ashamed of 
109:081,07['  ]| herself, quite ashamed of being so nervous, so overcome 
109:081,08['  ]| by such a trifle; but so it was; and it required a long 
109:081,09['  ]| application of solitude and reflection to recover her. 
110:082,01['  ]| Other opportunities of making her observations could 
110:082,02['  ]| not fail to occur.  $PN#A$Anne had soon been in company with 
110:082,03['  ]| all the four together often enough to have an opinion, 
110:082,04['  ]| though too wise to acknowledge as much at home, where 
110:082,05['  ]| she knew it would have satisfied neither husband nor 
110:082,06['  ]| wife; for while she considered $PN#M$Louisa to be rather the 
110:082,07['  ]| favourite, she could not but think, as far as she might 
110:082,08['  ]| dare$1#1$ to judge from memory and experience, that 
$PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
110:082,09['  ]| was not in love with either. 
110:082,09@a   | They were more 
110:082,10@a   | in love with him; yet there it was not love.  It was 
110:082,11@a   | a little fever of admiration; but it might, probably must, 
110:082,12@a   | end in love with some.  $PN#L$Charles*Hayter seemed aware of 
110:082,13@a   | being slighted, and yet $PN#R$Henrietta had sometimes the air 
110:082,14@a   | of being divided between them. 
110:082,14['  ]| $PN#A$Anne longed for the power 
110:082,15['  ]| of representing to them all what they were about, and of 
110:082,16['  ]| pointing out some of the evils they were exposing themselves 
110:082,17['  ]| to.  She did not attribute guile to any.  It was the 
110:082,18['  ]| highest satisfaction to her, to believe $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
110:082,19['  ]| not in the least aware of the pain he was occasioning. 
110:082,20@a   | There was no triumph, no pitiful triumph in his manner. 
110:082,21@a   | He had, probably, never heard, and never thought of any 
110:082,22@a   | claims of $PN#L$Charles*Hayter.  He was only wrong in accepting 
110:082,23@a   | the attentions ~~ (for accepting must be the word) of two 
110:082,24@a   | young women at once. 
110:082,25['  ]| After a short struggle, however, $PN#L$Charles*Hayter seemed 
110:082,26['  ]| to quit the field.  Three days had passed without his 
110:082,27['  ]| coming once to Uppercross; a most decided change.  He 
110:082,28['  ]| had even refused one regular invitation to dinner; and 
110:082,29['  ]| having been found on the occasion by $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove with 
110:082,30['  ]| some large books before him, $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove 
110:082,31['  ]| were sure all could not be right, and talked, with grave 
110:082,32['  ]| faces, of his studying himself to death.  It was $PN#P$Mary's 
110:082,33['  ]| hope and belief, that he had received a positive dismissal 
110:083,01['  ]| from $PN#R$Henrietta, and her husband lived under the constant 
110:083,02['  ]| dependance of seeing him to-morrow.  $PN#A$Anne could only 
110:083,03['  ]| feel that $PN#L$Charles*Hayter was wise. 
110:083,04['  ]| One morning, about this time, $PN#O$Charles*Musgrove and 
110:083,05['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth being gone a*shooting together, as 
110:083,06['  ]| the sisters in the cottage were sitting quietly at work, 
110:083,07['  ]| they were visited at the window by the sisters from the 
110:083,08['  ]| mansion-house. 
110:083,09['  ]| It was a very fine November day, and the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves 
110:083,10['  ]| came through the little grounds, and stopped for 
110:083,11['  ]| no other purpose than to say, that they were going to 
110:083,12['  ]| take a \long\ walk, and, therefore, concluded $PN#P$Mary could 
110:083,13['  ]| not like to go with them; and when $PN#P$Mary immediately 
110:083,14['  ]| replied, with some jealousy, at not being supposed a good 
110:083,15['  ]| walker, 
110:083,15[P  ]| "Oh, yes, I should like to join you very much, 
110:083,16[P  ]| I am very fond of a long walk," 
110:083,16['  ]| $PN#A$Anne felt persuaded, by 
110:083,17['  ]| the looks of the two girls, that it was precisely what they 
110:083,18['  ]| did not wish, and admired again the sort of necessity 
110:083,19['  ]| which the family-habits seemed to produce, of every*thing 
110:083,20['  ]| being to be communicated, and every*thing 
110:083,21['  ]| being to be done together, however undesired and 
110:083,22['  ]| inconvenient.  She tried to dissuade $PN#P$Mary from going, 
110:083,23['  ]| but in vain; and that being the case, thought it best to 
110:083,24['  ]| accept the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves' much more cordial invitation 
110:083,25['  ]| to herself to go likewise, as she might be useful in turning 
110:083,26['  ]| back with her sister, and lessening the interference in 
110:083,27['  ]| any plan of their own. 
110:083,28[P  ]| "I cannot imagine why they should suppose I should 
110:083,29[P  ]| not like a long walk!" 
110:083,29['  ]| said $PN#P$Mary, as she went up*stairs. 
110:083,30[P  ]| "Every*body is always supposing that I am not a good 
110:083,31[P  ]| walker!  And yet they would not have been pleased, 
110:083,32[P  ]| if we had refused to join them.  When people come in 
110:083,33[P  ]| this manner on purpose to ask us, how can one say no?" 
110:083,34['  ]| Just as they were setting off, the gentlemen returned. 
110:083,35['  ]| They had taken out a young dog, who had spoilt their 
110:083,36['  ]| sport, and sent them back early.  Their time and strength, 
110:083,37['  ]| and spirits, were, therefore, exactly ready for this walk, 
110:083,38['  ]| and they entered into it with pleasure.  Could $PN#A$Anne have 
110:084,01['  ]| foreseen such a junction, she would have staid at home; 
110:084,02['  ]| but, from some feelings of interest and curiosity, she 
110:084,03['  ]| fancied now that it was too late to retract, and the whole 
110:084,04['  ]| six set forward together in the direction chosen by the 
110:084,05['  ]| $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves, who evidently considered the walk as 
110:084,06['  ]| under their guidance. 
110:084,07['  ]| $PN#A$Anne's object was, not to be in the way of any*body, 
110:084,08['  ]| and where the narrow paths across the fields made many 
110:084,09['  ]| separations necessary, to keep with her brother and 
110:084,10['  ]| sister.  Her \pleasure\ in the walk must arise from the exercise 
110:084,11['  ]| and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the 
110:084,12['  ]| year upon the tawny leaves and withered hedges, and 
110:084,13['  ]| from repeating to herself some few of the thousand 
110:084,14['  ]| poetical descriptions extant of autumn, that season of 
110:084,15['  ]| peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste 
110:084,16['  ]| and tenderness, that season which has drawn from every 
110:084,17['  ]| poet, worthy of being read, some attempt at description, 
110:084,18['  ]| or some lines of feeling.  She occupied her mind as much 
110:084,19['  ]| as possible in such like musings and quotations; but it 
110:084,20['  ]| was not possible, that when within reach of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's 
110:084,21['  ]| conversation with either of the $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves, 
110:084,22['  ]| she should not try to hear it; yet she caught 
110:084,23['  ]| little very remarkable. 
110:084,23@a   | It was mere lively chat, ~~ such 
110:084,24@a   | as any young persons, on an intimate footing, might fall 
110:084,25@a   | into.  He was more engaged with $PN#M$Louisa than with 
110:084,26@a   | $PN#R$Henrietta.  $PN#M$Louisa certainly put more forward for his 
110:084,27@a   | notice than her sister. 
110:084,27['  ]| This distinction appeared to 
110:084,28['  ]| increase, and there was one speech of $PN#M$Louisa's which 
110:084,29['  ]| struck her.  After one of the many praises of the day, 
110:084,30['  ]| which were continually bursting forth, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
110:084,31['  ]| added, 
110:084,32[B  ]| "What glorious weather for the $PN#D$Admiral and my 
110:084,33[B  ]| sister!  They meant to take a long drive this morning; 
110:084,34[B  ]| perhaps we may hail them from some of these hills. 
110:084,35[B  ]| They talked of coming into this side of the country. 
110:084,36[B  ]| I wonder whereabouts they will upset to-day.  Oh! it does 
110:084,37[B  ]| happen very often, I assure you ~~ but my sister makes 
110:084,38[B  ]| nothing of it ~~ she would as lieve be tossed out as not." 
110:085,01[M  ]| "Ah!  You make the most of it, I know," 
110:085,01['  ]| cried $PN#M$Louisa, 
110:085,02[M  ]| "but if it were really so, I should do just the same in her 
110:085,03[M  ]| place.  If I loved a man, as she loves the $PN#D$Admiral, I would 
110:085,04[M  ]| be always with him, nothing should ever separate us, 
110:085,05[M  ]| and I would rather be overturned by him, than driven 
110:085,06[M  ]| safely by anybody else." 
110:085,07['  ]| It was spoken with enthusiasm. 
110:085,08[B  ]| "Had you?" 
110:085,08['  ]| cried he, catching the same tone; 
110:085,09[B  ]| "I honour you!" 
110:085,09['  ]| And there was silence between them 
110:085,10['  ]| for a little while. 
110:085,11['  ]| $PN#A$Anne could not immediately fall into a quotation again. 
110:085,12['  ]| The sweet scenes of autumn were for a while put by ~~ 
110:085,13['  ]| unless some tender sonnet, fraught with the apt analogy 
110:085,14['  ]| of the declining year, with declining happiness, and the 
110:085,15['  ]| images of youth and hope, and spring, all gone together, 
110:085,16['  ]| blessed her memory.  She roused herself to say, as they 
110:085,17['  ]| struck by order into another path, 
110:085,17[A  ]| "Is not this one of 
110:085,18[A  ]| the ways to Winthrop?" 
110:085,18['  ]| But nobody heard, or, at 
110:085,19['  ]| least, nobody answered her. 
110:085,20['  ]| Winthrop, however, or its environs ~~ for young men 
110:085,21['  ]| are, sometimes, to be met with, strolling about near 
110:085,22['  ]| home, was their destination; and after another half 
110:085,23['  ]| mile of gradual ascent through large enclosures, where 
110:085,24['  ]| the ploughs at work, and the fresh-made path spoke the 
110:085,25['  ]| farmer, counteracting the sweets of poetical despondence, 
110:085,26['  ]| and meaning to have spring again, they gained the summit 
110:085,27['  ]| of the most considerable hill, which parted Uppercross 
110:085,28['  ]| and Winthrop, and soon commanded a full view 
110:085,29['  ]| of the latter, at the foot of the hill on the other side. 
110:085,30['  ]| Winthrop, without beauty and without dignity, was 
110:085,31['  ]| stretched before them; an indifferent house, standing 
110:085,32['  ]| low, and hemmed in by the barns and buildings of 
110:085,33['  ]| the farm-yard. 
110:085,34['  ]| $PN#P$Mary exclaimed, 
110:085,34[P  ]| "Bless me! here is Winthrop ~~ 
110:085,35[P  ]| I declare I had no idea! ~~ well, now I think we had 
110:085,36[P  ]| better turn back; I am excessively tired." 
110:085,37['  ]| $PN#R$Henrietta, conscious and ashamed, and seeing no 
110:085,38['  ]| $PN#L$cousin*Charles walking along any path, or leaning against 
110:086,01['  ]| any gate, was ready to do as $PN#P$Mary wished; but 
110:086,01[O  ]| "No," 
110:086,02['  ]| said $PN#O$Charles*Musgrove, and 
110:086,02[M  ]| "No, no," 
110:086,02['  ]| cried $PN#M$Louisa more 
110:086,03['  ]| eagerly, and taking her sister aside, seemed to be arguing 
110:086,04['  ]| the matter warmly. 
110:086,05['  ]| $PN#O$Charles, in the meanwhile, was very decidedly declaring 
110:086,06['  ]| his resolution of calling on his aunt, now that he was so 
110:086,07['  ]| near; and very evidently, though more fearfully, trying 
110:086,08['  ]| to induce his wife to go too.  But this was one of the 
110:086,09['  ]| points on which the lady shewed her strength, and when 
110:086,10['  ]| he recommended the advantage of resting herself a 
110:086,11['  ]| quarter of an hour at Winthrop, as she felt so tired, she 
110:086,12['  ]| resolutely answered, 
110:086,12[P  ]| "Oh! no, indeed! ~~ walking up 
110:086,13[P  ]| that hill again would do her more harm than any sitting 
110:086,14[P  ]| down could do her good;" ~~ 
110:086,14['  ]| and, in short, her look and 
110:086,15['  ]| manner declared, that go she would not. 
110:086,16['  ]| After a little succession of these sort of debates and 
110:086,17['  ]| consultations, it was settled between $PN#O$Charles and his 
110:086,18['  ]| two sisters, that he, and $PN#R$Henrietta, should just run down 
110:086,19['  ]| for a few minutes, to see their aunt and cousins, while 
110:086,20['  ]| the rest of the party waited for them at the top of the 
110:086,21['  ]| hill.  $PN#M$Louisa seemed the principal arranger of the plan; 
110:086,22['  ]| and, as she went a little way with them, down the hill, 
110:086,23['  ]| still talking to $PN#R$Henrietta, $PN#P$Mary took the opportunity of 
110:086,24['  ]| looking scornfully around her, and saying to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
110:086,25['  ]| 
110:086,26[P  ]| "It is very unpleasant, having such connexions! 
110:086,27[P  ]| But I assure you, I have never been in the house above 
110:086,28[P  ]| twice in my life." 
110:086,29['  ]| She received no other answer, than an artificial, 
110:086,30['  ]| assenting smile, followed by a contemptuous glance, as 
110:086,31['  ]| he turned away, which $PN#A$Anne perfectly knew the meaning 
110:086,32['  ]| of. 
110:086,33['  ]| The brow of the hill, where they remained, was a cheerful 
110:086,34['  ]| spot; $PN#M$Louisa returned, and $PN#P$Mary finding a comfortable 
110:086,35['  ]| seat for herself, on the step of a stile, was very well 
110:086,36['  ]| satisfied so long as the others all stood about her; but 
110:086,37['  ]| when $PN#M$Louisa drew $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth away, to try for 
110:086,38['  ]| a gleaning of nuts in an adjoining hedge-row, and they 
110:087,01['  ]| were gone by degrees quite out of sight and sound, $PN#P$Mary 
110:087,02['  ]| was happy no longer; she quarrelled with her own seat, ~~ 
110:087,03@p   | was sure $PN#M$Louisa had got a much better somewhere, ~~ and 
110:087,04@p   | nothing could prevent her from going to look for a better 
110:087,05@p   | also. 
110:087,05['  ]| She turned through the same gate, ~~ but could not 
110:087,06['  ]| see them. ~~ $PN#A$Anne found a nice seat for her, on a dry 
110:087,07['  ]| sunny bank, under the hedge-row, in which she had no 
110:087,08['  ]| doubt of their still being ~~ in some spot or other.  $PN#P$Mary 
110:087,09['  ]| sat down for a moment, but it would not do; 
110:087,09@p   | she was 
110:087,10@p   | sure $PN#M$Louisa had found a better seat somewhere else, and 
110:087,11@p   | she would go on, till she overtook her. 
110:087,12['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, really tired herself, was glad to sit down; and 
110:087,13['  ]| she very soon heard $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth and $PN#M$Louisa 
110:087,14['  ]| in the hedge-row, behind her, as if making their way 
110:087,15['  ]| back, along the rough, wild sort of channel, down the 
110:087,16['  ]| centre.  They were speaking as they drew near.  $PN#M$Louisa's 
110:087,17['  ]| voice was the first distinguished.  She seemed to be in 
110:087,18['  ]| the middle of some eager speech.  What $PN#A$Anne first 
110:087,19['  ]| heard was, 
110:087,20[M  ]| "And so, I made her go.  I could not bear that she 
110:087,21[M  ]| should be frightened from the visit by such nonsense. 
110:087,22[M  ]| What! ~~ would I be turned back from doing a thing that 
110:087,23[M  ]| I had determined to do, and that I knew to be right, by 
110:087,24[M  ]| the airs and interference of such a person? ~~ or, of any 
110:087,25[M  ]| person I may say.  No, ~~ I have no idea of being so easily 
110:087,26[M  ]| persuaded.  When I have made up my mind, I have made 
110:087,27[M  ]| it.  And $PN#R$Henrietta seemed entirely to have made up hers 
110:087,28[M  ]| to call at Winthrop to-day ~~ and yet, she was as near 
110:087,29[M  ]| giving it up, out of nonsensical complaisance!" 
110:087,30[B  ]| "She would have turned back then, but for you?" 
110:087,31[M  ]| "She would indeed.  I am almost ashamed to say it." 
110:087,32[B  ]| "Happy for her, to have such a mind as yours at hand! 
110:087,33[B  ]| ~~ After the hints you gave just now, which did but confirm 
110:087,34[B  ]| my own observations, the last time I was in company 
110:087,35[B  ]| with him, I need not affect to have no comprehension of 
110:087,36[B  ]| what is going on.  I see that more than a mere dutiful 
110:087,37[B  ]| morning-visit to your aunt was in question; ~~ and woe 
110:087,38[B  ]| betide him, and her too, when it comes to things of 
110:088,01[B  ]| consequence, when they are placed in circumstances, 
110:088,02[B  ]| requiring fortitude and strength of mind, if she have not 
110:088,03[B  ]| resolution enough to resist idle interference in such 
110:088,04[B  ]| a trifle as this.  Your sister is an amiable creature; but 
110:088,05[B  ]| \yours\ is the character of decision and firmness, I see.  If 
110:088,06[B  ]| you value her conduct or happiness, infuse as much of 
110:088,07[B  ]| your own spirit into her, as you can.  But this, no doubt, 
110:088,08[B  ]| you have been always doing.  It is the worst evil of too 
110:088,09[B  ]| yielding and indecisive a character, that no influence 
110:088,10[B  ]| over it can be depended on. ~~ You are never sure of a good 
110:088,11[B  ]| impression being durable.  Every*body may sway it; 
110:088,12[B  ]| let those who would be happy be firm. ~~ Here is a nut," 
110:088,13['  ]| said he, catching one down from an upper bough. 
110:088,13[B  ]| "To 
110:088,14[B  ]| exemplify, ~~ a beautiful glossy nut, which, blessed with 
110:088,15[B  ]| original strength, has outlived all the storms of autumn. 
110:088,16[B  ]| Not a puncture, not a weak spot any*where. ~~ This nut," 
110:088,17['  ]| he continued, with playful solemnity, ~~ 
110:088,17[B  ]| "while so many 
110:088,18[B  ]| of its brethren have fallen and been trodden under foot, 
110:088,19[B  ]| is still in possession of all the happiness that a hazel-hut 
110:088,20[B  ]| can be supposed capable of." 
110:088,20['  ]| Then, returning to his 
110:088,21['  ]| former earnest tone: 
110:088,21[B  ]| "My first wish for all, whom I am 
110:088,22[B  ]| interested in, is that they should be firm.  If $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove 
110:088,23[B  ]| would be beautiful and happy in her November 
110:088,24[B  ]| of life, she will cherish all her present powers of mind." 
110:088,25['  ]| He had done, ~~ and was unanswered.  It would have 
110:088,26['  ]| surprised $PN#A$Anne, if $PN#M$Louisa could have readily answered 
110:088,27['  ]| such a speech ~~ 
110:088,27@a   | words of such interest, spoken with such 
110:088,28@a   | serious warmth! ~~ she could imagine what $PN#M$Louisa was 
110:088,29@a   | feeling.  For herself ~~ she feared to move, lest she should 
110:088,30@a   | be seen. 
110:088,30['  ]| While she remained, a bush of low rambling 
110:088,31['  ]| holly protected her, and they were moving on.  Before 
110:088,32['  ]| they were beyond her hearing, however, $PN#M$Louisa spoke again. 
110:088,33[M  ]| "$PN#P$Mary is good-natured enough in many respects," 
110:088,34['  ]| said she; 
110:088,34[M  ]| "but she does sometimes provoke me excessively, 
110:088,35[M  ]| by her nonsense and her pride; the $PN#G1$Elliot pride. 
110:088,36[M  ]| She has a great deal too much of the $PN#G1$Elliot pride. ~~ We 
110:088,37[M  ]| do so wish that $PN#O$Charles had married $PN#A$Anne instead. ~~ 
110:088,38[M  ]| I suppose you know he wanted to marry $PN#A$Anne?" 
110:089,01['  ]| After a moment's pause, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth said, 
110:089,02[B  ]| "Do you mean that she refused him?" 
110:089,03[M  ]| "Oh! yes certainly." 
110:089,04[B  ]| "When did that happen?" 
110:089,05[M  ]| "I do not exactly know, for $PN#R$Henrietta and I were at 
110:089,06[M  ]| school at the time; but I believe about a year before he 
110:089,07[M  ]| married $PN#P$Mary.  I wish she had accepted him.  We should 
110:089,08[M  ]| all have liked her a great deal better; and papa and 
110:089,09[M  ]| mamma always think it was her great friend $PN#K$Lady*Russell's 
110:089,10[M  ]| doing, that she did not. ~~ They think $PN#O$Charles might not 
110:089,11[M  ]| be learned and bookish enough to please $PN#K$Lady*Russell, 
110:089,12[M  ]| and that therefore, she persuaded $PN#A$Anne to refuse him." 
110:089,13['  ]| The sounds were retreating, and $PN#A$Anne distinguished 
110:089,14['  ]| no more.  Her own emotions still kept her fixed.  She 
110:089,15['  ]| had much to recover from, before she could move.  The 
110:089,16['  ]| listener's proverbial fate was not absolutely hers; she 
110:089,17['  ]| had heard no evil of herself, ~~ but she had heard a great 
110:089,18['  ]| deal of very painful import.  She saw how her own 
110:089,19['  ]| character was considered by $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth; and 
110:089,20['  ]| there had been just that degree of feeling and curiosity 
110:089,21['  ]| about her in his manner, which must give her extreme 
110:089,22['  ]| agitation. 
110:089,23['  ]| As soon as she could, she went after $PN#P$Mary, and having 
110:089,24['  ]| found, and walked back with her to their former station, 
110:089,25['  ]| by the stile, felt some comfort in their whole party being 
110:089,26['  ]| immediately afterwards collected, and once more in 
110:089,27['  ]| motion together.  Her spirits wanted the solitude and 
110:089,28['  ]| silence which only numbers could give. 
110:089,29['  ]| $PN#O$Charles and $PN#R$Henrietta returned, bringing, as may be 
110:089,30['  ]| conjectured, $PN#L$Charles*Hayter with them.  The minutiae 
110:089,31['  ]| of the business $PN#A$Anne could not attempt to understand; 
110:089,32@a   | even $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth did not seem admitted to perfect 
110:089,33@a   | confidence here; but that there had been a withdrawing 
110:089,34@a   | on the gentleman's side, and a relenting on the lady's, 
110:089,35@a   | and that they were now very glad to be together again, 
110:089,36@a   | did not admit a doubt.  $PN#R$Henrietta looked a little ashamed, 
110:089,37@a   | but very well pleased; ~~ $PN#L$Charles*Hayter exceedingly 
110:089,38@a   | happy, and they were devoted to each other almost from 
110:090,01@a   | the first instant of their all setting forward for Uppercross. 
110:090,02@a   | 
110:090,03@a   | Every*thing now marked out $PN#M$Louisa for $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth; 
110:090,04@a   | nothing could be plainer; 
110:090,04['  ]| and where many 
110:090,05['  ]| divisions were necessary, or even where they were not, 
110:090,06['  ]| they walked side by side, nearly as much as the other two. 
110:090,07['  ]| In a long strip of meadow-land, where there was ample 
110:090,08['  ]| space for all, they were thus divided ~~ forming three 
110:090,09['  ]| distinct parties; and to that party of the three which 
110:090,10['  ]| boasted least animation, and least complaisance, $PN#A$Anne 
110:090,11['  ]| necessarily belonged.  She joined $PN#O$Charles and $PN#P$Mary, and 
110:090,12['  ]| was tired enough to be very glad of $PN#O$Charles's other arm; 
110:090,13['  ]| ~~ but $PN#O$Charles, though in very good*humour with her, 
110:090,14['  ]| was out of temper with his wife.  $PN#P$Mary had shewn herself 
110:090,15['  ]| disobliging to him, and was now to reap the consequence, 
110:090,16['  ]| which consequence was his dropping her arm almost 
110:090,17['  ]| every moment, to cut off the heads of some nettles in 
110:090,18['  ]| the hedge with his switch; and when $PN#P$Mary began to 
110:090,19['  ]| complain of it, and lament her being ill-used, according 
110:090,20['  ]| to custom, in being on the hedge*side, while $PN#A$Anne was 
110:090,21['  ]| never incommoded on the other, he dropped the arms of 
110:090,22['  ]| both to hunt after a weasel which he had a momentary 
110:090,23['  ]| glance of; and they could hardly get him along at all. 
110:090,24['  ]| This long meadow bordered a lane, which their footpath, 
110:090,25['  ]| at the end of it, was to cross; and when the party had 
110:090,26['  ]| all reached the gate of exit, the carriage advancing in 
110:090,27['  ]| the same direction, which had been some time heard, 
110:090,28['  ]| was just coming up, and proved to be $PN#D$Admiral*Croft's 
110:090,29['  ]| gig. ~~ He and his wife had taken their intended drive, 
110:090,30['  ]| and were returning home.  Upon hearing how long a walk 
110:090,31['  ]| the young people had engaged in, they kindly offered 
110:090,32['  ]| a seat to any lady who might be particularly tired; it 
110:090,33['  ]| would save her a full mile, and they were going through 
110:090,34['  ]| Uppercross.  The invitation was general, and generally 
110:090,35['  ]| declined.  The $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves were not at all tired, and 
110:090,36['  ]| $PN#P$Mary was either offended, by not being asked before any 
110:090,37['  ]| of the others, or what $PN#M$Louisa called the $PN#G1$Elliot pride could 
110:090,38['  ]| not endure to make a third in a one horse chaise. 
110:091,01['  ]| The walking-party had crossed the lane, and were 
110:091,02['  ]| surmounting an opposite stile; and the $PN#D$admiral was 
110:091,03['  ]| putting his horse into motion again, when $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
110:091,04['  ]| cleared the hedge in a moment to say something to 
110:091,05['  ]| his sister. ~~ The something might be guessed by its effects. 
110:091,06[E  ]| "$PN#A$Miss*Elliot, I am sure \you\ are tired," 
110:091,06['  ]| cried $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft. 
110:091,07[E  ]| "Do let us have the pleasure of taking you home.  Here 
110:091,08[E  ]| is excellent room for three, I assure you.  If we were all 
110:091,09[E  ]| like you, I believe we might sit four. ~~ You must, indeed, 
110:091,10[E  ]| you must." 
110:091,11['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was still in the lane; and though instinctively 
110:091,12['  ]| beginning to decline, she was not allowed to proceed.  The 
110:091,13['  ]| $PN#D$admiral's kind urgency came in support of his wife's; 
110:091,14['  ]| they would not be refused; they compressed themselves 
110:091,15['  ]| into the smallest possible space to leave her a corner, and 
110:091,16['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, without saying a word, turned to her, 
110:091,17['  ]| and quietly obliged her to be assisted into the carriage. 
110:091,18@a   | Yes, ~~ he had done it.  She was in the carriage, and felt 
110:091,19@a   | that he had placed her there, that his will and his hands 
110:091,20@a   | had done it, that she owed it to his perception of her 
110:091,21@a   | fatigue, and his resolution to give her rest.  She was very 
110:091,22@a   | much affected by the view of his disposition towards her 
110:091,23@a   | which all these things made apparent.  This little circumstance 
110:091,24@a   | seemed the completion of all that had gone 
110:091,25@a   | before.  She understood him.  He could not forgive her, ~~ 
110:091,26@a   | but he could not be unfeeling.  Though condemning her 
110:091,27@a   | for the past, and considering it with high and unjust 
110:091,28@a   | resentment, though perfectly careless of her, and though 
110:091,29@a   | becoming attached to another, still he could not see her 
110:091,30@a   | suffer, without the desire of giving her relief.  It was 
110:091,31@a   | a remainder of former sentiment; it was an impulse of 
110:091,32@a   | pure, though unacknowledged friendship; it was a proof 
110:091,33@a   | of his own warm and amiable heart, which she could not 
110:091,34@a   | contemplate without emotions so compounded of pleasure 
110:091,35@a   | and pain, that she knew not which prevailed. 
110:091,36['  ]| Her answers to the kindness and the remarks of her 
110:091,37['  ]| companions were at first unconsciously given.  They had 
110:091,38['  ]| travelled half their way along the rough lane, before she 
110:092,01['  ]| was quite awake to what they said.  She then found 
110:092,02['  ]| them talking of 
110:092,02[Y  ]| "$PN#B$Frederick." 
110:092,03[D  ]| "He certainly means to have one or other of those 
110:092,04[D  ]| two girls, $PN#E$Sophy," 
110:092,04['  ]| said the $PN#D$admiral; ~~ 
110:092,04[D  ]| "but there is no 
110:092,05[D  ]| saying which.  He has been running after them, too, 
110:092,06[D  ]| long enough, one would think, to make up his mind.  Ay, 
110:092,07[D  ]| this comes of the peace.  If it were war, now, he would 
110:092,08[D  ]| have settled it long ago. ~~ We sailors, $PN#A$Miss*Elliot, cannot 
110:092,09[D  ]| afford to make long courtships in time of war.  How many 
110:092,10[D  ]| days was it, my dear, between the first time of my seeing 
110:092,11[D  ]| you, and our sitting down together in our lodgings at 
110:092,12[D  ]| North*Yarmouth?" 
110:092,13[E  ]| "We had better not talk about it, my dear," 
110:092,13['  ]| replied 
110:092,14['  ]| $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, pleasantly; 
110:092,14[E  ]| "for if $PN#A$Miss*Elliot were to hear 
110:092,15[E  ]| how soon we came to an understanding, she would never 
110:092,16[E  ]| be persuaded that we could be happy together.  I had 
110:092,17[E  ]| known you by character, however, long before." 
110:092,18[D  ]| "Well, and I had heard of you as a very pretty girl; 
110:092,19[D  ]| and what were we to wait for besides? ~~ I do not like 
110:092,20[D  ]| having such things so long in hand.  I wish $PN#B$Frederick 
110:092,21[D  ]| would spread a little more canvas, and bring us home one 
110:092,22[D  ]| of these young ladies to Kellynch.  Then, there would 
110:092,23[D  ]| always be company for them. ~~ And very nice young 
110:092,24[D  ]| ladies they both are; I hardly know one from the other." 
110:092,25[E  ]| "Very good*humoured, unaffected girls, indeed," 
110:092,25['  ]| said 
110:092,26['  ]| $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, in a tone of calmer praise, such as made $PN#A$Anne 
110:092,27['  ]| suspect that her keener powers might not consider either 
110:092,28['  ]| of them as quite worthy of her brother; 
110:092,28[E  ]| "and a very 
110:092,29[E  ]| respectable family.  One could not be connected with 
110:092,30[E  ]| better people. ~~ My dear $PN#D$admiral, that post! ~~ we shall 
110:092,31[E  ]| certainly take that post." 
110:092,32['  ]| But by coolly giving the reins a better direction herself, 
110:092,33['  ]| they happily passed the danger; and by once afterwards 
110:092,34['  ]| judiciously putting out her hand, they neither fell into 
110:092,35['  ]| a rut, nor ran foul of a dung-cart; and $PN#A$Anne, with some 
110:092,36['  ]| amusement at their style of driving, which she imagined no 
110:092,37['  ]| bad representation of the general guidance of their affairs, 
110:092,38['  ]| found herself safely deposited by them at the cottage. 
111:093,01['  ]| The time now approached for $PN#K$Lady*Russell's return; 
111:093,02['  ]| the day was even fixed, and $PN#A$Anne, being engaged to join 
111:093,03['  ]| her as soon as she was resettled, was looking forward to 
111:093,04['  ]| an early removal to Kellynch, and beginning to think 
111:093,05['  ]| how her own comfort was likely to be affected by it. 
111:093,06@a   | It would place her in the same village with $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
111:093,07@a   | within half a mile of him; they would have 
111:093,08@a   | to frequent the same church, and there must be intercourse 
111:093,09@a   | between the two families.  This was against her; 
111:093,10@a   | but, on the other hand, he spent so much of his time at 
111:093,11@a   | Uppercross, that in removing thence she might be considered 
111:093,12@a   | rather as leaving him behind, than as going towards 
111:093,13@a   | him; and, upon the whole, she believed she must, 
111:093,14@a   | on this interesting question, be the gainer, almost as 
111:093,15@a   | certainly as in her change of domestic society, in leaving 
111:093,16@a   | poor $PN#P$Mary for $PN#K$Lady*Russell. 
111:093,17@a   | She wished it might be possible for her to avoid ever 
111:093,18@a   | seeing $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth at the hall; ~~ those rooms had 
111:093,19@a   | witnessed former meetings which would be brought too 
111:093,20@a   | painfully before her; but she was yet more anxious for 
111:093,21@a   | the possibility of $PN#K$Lady*Russell and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
111:093,22@a   | never meeting any*where.  They did not like each other, 
111:093,23@a   | and no renewal of acquaintance now could do any good; 
111:093,24@a   | and were $PN#K$Lady*Russell to see them together, she might 
111:093,25@a   | think that he had too much self-possession, and she too 
111:093,26@a   | little. 
111:093,27['  ]| These points formed her chief solicitude in anticipating 
111:093,28['  ]| her removal from Uppercross, where she felt 
111:093,28@a   | she had 
111:093,29@a   | been stationed quite long enough. Her usefulness to
111:093,30@a   | little $PN#P1$Charles would always give some sweetness to the 
111:093,31@a   | memory of her two months visit there, but he was gaining 
111:093,32@a   | strength apace, and she had nothing else to stay for. 
111:093,33['  ]| The conclusion of her visit, however, was diversified 
111:094,01['  ]| in a way which she had not at all imagined.  $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
111:094,02['  ]| after being unseen and unheard of at Uppercross 
111:094,03['  ]| for two whole days, appeared again among them to 
111:094,04['  ]| justify himself by a relation of what had kept him away. 
111:094,05['  ]| A letter from his friend, $PN#J$Captain*Harville, having found 
111:094,06['  ]| him out at last, had brought intelligence of $PN#J$Captain*Harville's 
111:094,07['  ]| being settled with his family at Lyme for the 
111:094,08['  ]| winter; of their being, therefore, quite unknowingly, 
111:094,09['  ]| within twenty miles of each other.  $PN#J$Captain*Harville 
111:094,10['  ]| had never been in good health since a severe wound which 
111:094,11['  ]| he received two years before, and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's 
111:094,12['  ]| anxiety to see him had determined him to go immediately 
111:094,13['  ]| to Lyme.  He had been there for four-and-twenty hours. 
111:094,14['  ]| His acquittal was complete, his friendship warmly 
111:094,15['  ]| honoured, a lively interest excited for his friend, and his 
111:094,16['  ]| description of the fine country about Lyme so feelingly 
111:094,17['  ]| attended to by the party, that an earnest desire to see 
111:094,18['  ]| Lyme themselves, and a project for going thither was the 
111:094,19['  ]| consequence. 
111:094,20['  ]| The young people were all wild to see Lyme.  $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
111:094,21['  ]| talked of going there again himself; it was 
111:094,22['  ]| only seventeen miles from Uppercross; though November, 
111:094,23['  ]| the weather was by no means bad; and, in short, 
111:094,24['  ]| $PN#M$Louisa, who was the most eager of the eager, having 
111:094,25['  ]| formed the resolution to go, and besides the pleasure of 
111:094,26['  ]| doing as she liked, being now armed with the idea of 
111:094,27['  ]| merit in maintaining her own way, bore$1#1$ down all the 
111:094,28['  ]| wishes of her father and mother for putting it off till 
111:094,29['  ]| summer; and to Lyme they were to go ~~ $PN#O$Charles, $PN#P$Mary, 
111:094,30['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, $PN#R$Henrietta, $PN#M$Louisa, and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth. 
111:094,31['  ]| The first heedless scheme had been to go in the morning 
111:094,32['  ]| and return at night, but to this $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove, for the sake 
111:094,33['  ]| of his horses, would not consent; and when it came to 
111:094,34['  ]| be rationally considered, a day in the middle of November 
111:094,35['  ]| would not leave much time for seeing a new place, 
111:094,36['  ]| after deducting seven hours, as the nature of the country 
111:094,37['  ]| required, for going and returning.  They were consequently 
111:094,38['  ]| to stay the night there, and not to be expected 
111:095,01['  ]| back till the next day's dinner.  This was felt to be 
111:095,02['  ]| a considerable amendment; and though they all met 
111:095,03['  ]| at the Great*House at rather an early breakfast hour, and 
111:095,04['  ]| set off very punctually, it was so much past noon before 
111:095,05['  ]| the two carriages, $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove's coach containing the 
111:095,06['  ]| four ladies, and $PN#O$Charles's curricle, in which he drove 
111:095,07['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, were descending the long hill into 
111:095,08['  ]| Lyme, and entering upon the still steeper street of the 
111:095,09['  ]| town itself, that it was very evident they would not have 
111:095,10['  ]| more than time for looking about them, before the light 
111:095,11['  ]| and warmth of the day were gone. 
111:095,12['  ]| After securing accommodations, and ordering a dinner 
111:095,13['  ]| at one of the inns, the next thing to be done was unquestionably 
111:095,14['  ]| to walk directly down to the sea.  They were 
111:095,15['  ]| come too late in the year for any amusement or variety 
111:095,16['  ]| which Lyme, as a public place, might offer; the rooms 
111:095,17['  ]| were shut up, the lodgers almost all gone, scarcely any 
111:095,18['  ]| family but of the residents left ~~ and, as there is nothing 
111:095,19['  ]| to admire in the buildings themselves, the remarkable 
111:095,20['  ]| situation of the town, the principal street almost hurrying 
111:095,21['  ]| into the water, the walk to the Cobb, skirting round the 
111:095,22['  ]| pleasant little bay, which in the season is animated with 
111:095,23['  ]| bathing*machines and company, the Cobb itself, its old 
111:095,24['  ]| wonders and new improvements, with the very beautiful 
111:095,25['  ]| line of cliffs stretching out to the east of the town, are 
111:095,26['  ]| what the stranger's eye will seek; and a very strange 
111:095,27['  ]| stranger it must be, who does not see charms in the 
111:095,28['  ]| immediate environs of Lyme, to make him wish to know 
111:095,29['  ]| it better.  The scenes in its neighbourhood, Charmouth, 
111:095,30['  ]| with its high grounds and extensive sweeps of country, 
111:095,31['  ]| and still more its sweet retired bay, backed by dark cliffs, 
111:095,32['  ]| where fragments of low rock among the sands make it 
111:095,33['  ]| the happiest spot for watching the flow of the tide, for 
111:095,34['  ]| sitting in unwearied contemplation; ~~ the woody varieties 
111:095,35['  ]| of the cheerful village of Up*Lyme, and, above all, Pinny, 
111:095,36['  ]| with its green chasms between romantic rocks, where the 
111:095,37['  ]| scattered forest trees and orchards of luxuriant growth 
111:095,38['  ]| declare that many a generation must have passed away 
111:096,01['  ]| since the first partial falling of the cliff prepared the 
111:096,02['  ]| ground for such a state, where a scene so wonderful and 
111:096,03['  ]| so lovely is exhibited, as may more than equal any of the 
111:096,04['  ]| resembling scenes of the far-famed Isle*of*Wight:  these 
111:096,05['  ]| places must be visited, and visited again, to make the 
111:096,06['  ]| worth of Lyme understood. 
111:096,07['  ]| The party from Uppercross passing down by the now 
111:096,08['  ]| deserted and melancholy looking rooms, and still descending, 
111:096,09['  ]| soon found themselves on the sea shore, and lingering 
111:096,10['  ]| only, as all must linger and gaze on a first return to the 
111:096,11['  ]| sea, who ever deserve to look on it at all, proceeded 
111:096,12['  ]| towards the Cobb, equally their object in itself and on 
111:096,13['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's account; for in a small house, near 
111:096,14['  ]| the foot of an old pier of unknown date, were the $PN#J1$Harvilles 
111:096,15['  ]| settled.  $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth turned in to call on his 
111:096,16['  ]| friend; the others walked on, and he was to join them on 
111:096,17['  ]| the Cobb. 
111:096,18['  ]| They were by no means tired of wondering and admiring; 
111:096,19['  ]| and not even $PN#M$Louisa seemed to feel that they had 
111:096,20['  ]| parted with $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth long, when they saw him 
111:096,21['  ]| coming after them, with three companions, all well 
111:096,22['  ]| known already by description to be $PN#J$Captain and $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville, 
111:096,23['  ]| and a $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, who was staying with them. 
111:096,24['  ]| $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick had some time ago been first lieutenant 
111:096,25['  ]| of the Laconia; and the account which $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
111:096,26['  ]| had given of him, on his return from Lyme before; 
111:096,27['  ]| his warm praise of him as an excellent young man and 
111:096,28['  ]| an officer, whom he had always valued highly, which 
111:096,29['  ]| must have stamped him well in the esteem of every 
111:096,30['  ]| listener, had been followed by a little history of his private 
111:096,31['  ]| life, which rendered him perfectly interesting in the eyes 
111:096,32['  ]| of all the ladies.  He had been engaged to $PN#J$Captain*Harville's 
111:096,33['  ]| sister, and was now mourning her loss.  They 
111:096,34['  ]| had been a year or two waiting for fortune and promotion. 
111:096,35['  ]| Fortune came, his prize-money as lieutenant being great, 
111:096,36['  ]| ~~ promotion, too, came at \last\; but $PN#ZO$Fanny*Harville did 
111:096,37['  ]| not live to know it.  She had died the preceding summer, 
111:096,38['  ]| while he was at sea.  $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth believed it 
111:097,01['  ]| impossible for man to be more attached to woman than 
111:097,02['  ]| poor $PN#ZD$Benwick had been to $PN#ZO$Fanny*Harville, or to be more 
111:097,03['  ]| deeply afflicted under the dreadful change.  He considered 
111:097,04['  ]| his disposition as of the sort which must suffer heavily, 
111:097,05['  ]| uniting very strong feelings with quiet, serious, and 
111:097,06['  ]| retiring manners, and a decided taste for reading, and 
111:097,07['  ]| sedentary pursuits.  To finish the interest of the story, 
111:097,08['  ]| the friendship between him and the $PN#J1$Harvilles seemed, if 
111:097,09['  ]| possible, augmented by the event which closed all their 
111:097,10['  ]| views of alliance, and $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick was now living 
111:097,11['  ]| with them entirely.  $PN#J$Captain*Harville had taken his 
111:097,12['  ]| present house for half a year, his taste, and his health, 
111:097,13['  ]| and his fortune all directing him to a residence unexpensive, 
111:097,14['  ]| and by the sea; and the grandeur of the country, 
111:097,15['  ]| and the retirement of Lyme in the winter, appeared 
111:097,16['  ]| exactly adapted to $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick's state of mind. 
111:097,17['  ]| The sympathy and good-will excited towards $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick 
111:097,18['  ]| was very great. 
111:097,19[A  ]| "And yet," 
111:097,19['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne to herself, as they now moved 
111:097,20['  ]| forward to meet the party, 
111:097,20[A  ]| "he has not, perhaps, a more 
111:097,21[A  ]| sorrowing heart than I have.  I cannot believe his 
111:097,22[A  ]| prospects so blighted for*ever.  He is younger than I am; 
111:097,23[A  ]| younger in feeling, if not in fact; younger as a man. 
111:097,24[A  ]| He will rally again, and be happy with another." 
111:097,25['  ]| They all met, and were introduced.  $PN#J$Captain*Harville 
111:097,26['  ]| was a tall, dark man, with a sensible, benevolent countenance; 
111:097,27['  ]| a little lame; and from strong features, and 
111:097,28['  ]| want of health, looking much older than $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth. 
111:097,29['  ]| $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick looked and was the youngest 
111:097,30['  ]| of the three, and, compared with either of them, a little 
111:097,31['  ]| man.  He had a pleasing face and a melancholy air, just 
111:097,32['  ]| as he ought to have, and drew back from conversation. 
111:097,33['  ]| $PN#J$Captain*Harville, though not equalling $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
111:097,34['  ]| in manners, was a perfect gentleman, unaffected, 
111:097,35['  ]| warm, and obliging.  $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville, a degree less polished 
111:097,36['  ]| than her husband, seemed however to have the same good 
111:097,37['  ]| feelings; and nothing could be more pleasant than their 
111:097,38['  ]| desire of considering the whole party as friends of their 
111:098,01['  ]| own, because the friends of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, or more 
111:098,02['  ]| kindly hospitable than their entreaties for their all 
111:098,03['  ]| promising to dine with them.  The dinner, already ordered 
111:098,04['  ]| at the inn, was at last, though unwillingly, accepted as 
111:098,05['  ]| an excuse; but they seemed almost hurt that $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
111:098,06['  ]| should have brought any such party to Lyme, 
111:098,07['  ]| without considering it as a thing of course that they 
111:098,08['  ]| should dine with them. 
111:098,09['  ]| There was so much attachment to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
111:098,10['  ]| in all this, and such a bewitching charm in a degree of 
111:098,11['  ]| hospitality so uncommon, so unlike the usual style of 
111:098,12['  ]| give-and-take invitations, and dinners of formality and 
111:098,13['  ]| display, that $PN#A$Anne felt her spirits not likely to be benefited 
111:098,14['  ]| by an increasing acquaintance among his brother-officers. 
111:098,15@a   | "These would have been all my friends," 
111:098,15['  ]| was 
111:098,16['  ]| her thought; and she had to struggle against a great 
111:098,17['  ]| tendency to lowness. 
111:098,18['  ]| On quitting the Cobb, they all went indoors with their 
111:098,19['  ]| new friends, and found rooms so small as none but those 
111:098,20['  ]| who invite from the heart could think capable of accommodating 
111:098,21['  ]| so many.  $PN#A$Anne had a moment's astonishment on 
111:098,22['  ]| the subject herself; but it was soon lost in the pleasanter 
111:098,23['  ]| feelings which sprang from the sight of all the ingenious 
111:098,24['  ]| contrivances and nice arrangements of $PN#J$Captain*Harville, 
111:098,25['  ]| to turn the actual space to the best possible account, to 
111:098,26['  ]| supply the deficiencies of lodging-house furniture, and 
111:098,27['  ]| defend the windows and doors against the winter storms 
111:098,28['  ]| to be expected.  The varieties in the fitting-up of the 
111:098,29['  ]| rooms, where the common necessaries provided by the 
111:098,30['  ]| owner, in the common indifferent plight, were contrasted 
111:098,31['  ]| with some few articles of a rare species of wood, excellently 
111:098,32['  ]| worked up, and with something curious and valuable 
111:098,33['  ]| from all the distant countries $PN#J$Captain*Harville had 
111:098,34['  ]| visited, were more than amusing to $PN#A$Anne:  connected 
111:098,35['  ]| as it all was with his profession, the fruit of its labours, 
111:098,36['  ]| the effect of its influence on his habits, the picture of 
111:098,37['  ]| repose and domestic happiness it presented, made it to 
111:098,38['  ]| her a something more, or less, than gratification. 
111:099,01['  ]| $PN#J$Captain*Harville was no reader; but he had contrived 
111:099,02['  ]| excellent accommodations, and fashioned very pretty 
111:099,03['  ]| shelves, for a tolerable collection of well-bound volumes, 
111:099,04['  ]| the property of $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick.  His lameness prevented 
111:099,05['  ]| him from taking much exercise; but a mind of 
111:099,06['  ]| usefulness and ingenuity seemed to furnish him with 
111:099,07['  ]| constant employment within.  He drew, he varnished, 
111:099,08['  ]| he carpentered, he glued; he made toys for the children, 
111:099,09['  ]| he fashioned new netting-needles and pins with improvements; 
111:099,10['  ]| and if every*thing else was done, sat down to 
111:099,11['  ]| his large fishing-net at one corner of the room. 
111:099,12['  ]| $PN#A$Anne thought she left great happiness behind her 
111:099,13['  ]| when they quitted the house; and $PN#M$Louisa, by whom she 
111:099,14['  ]| found herself walking, burst forth into raptures of admiration 
111:099,15['  ]| and delight on the character of the navy ~~ 
111:099,15@m   | their 
111:099,16@m   | friendliness, their brotherliness, their openness, their 
111:099,17@m   | uprightness; protesting that she was convinced of sailors 
111:099,18@m   | having more worth and warmth than any other set of 
111:099,19@m   | men in England; that they only knew how to live, and 
111:099,20@m   | they only deserved to be respected and loved. 
111:099,21['  ]| They went back to dress and dine; and so well had the 
111:099,22['  ]| scheme answered already, that nothing was found amiss; 
111:099,23['  ]| though its being 
111:099,23[X  ]| "so entirely out of the season," 
111:099,23['  ]| and the 
111:099,24[X  ]| "no-thorough-fare of Lyme," 
111:099,24['  ]| and the 
111:099,24[X  ]| "no expectation 
111:099,25[X  ]| of company," 
111:099,25['  ]| had brought many apologies from the heads 
111:099,26['  ]| of the inn. 
111:099,27['  ]| $PN#A$Anne found herself by this time growing so much more 
111:099,28['  ]| hardened to being in $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's company than 
111:099,29['  ]| she had at first imagined could ever be, that the sitting 
111:099,30['  ]| down to the same table with him now, and the interchange 
111:099,31['  ]| of the common civilities attending on it ~~ (they never 
111:099,32['  ]| got beyond) was become a mere nothing. 
111:099,33['  ]| The nights were too dark for the ladies to meet again 
111:099,34['  ]| till the morrow, but $PN#J$Captain*Harville had promised them 
111:099,35['  ]| a visit in the evening; and he came, bringing his friend 
111:099,36['  ]| also, which was more than had been expected, it having 
111:099,37['  ]| been agreed that $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick had all the appearance 
111:099,38['  ]| of being oppressed by the presence of so many strangers. 
111:100,01['  ]| He ventured among them again, however, though his 
111:100,02['  ]| spirits certainly did not seem fit for the mirth of the party 
111:100,03['  ]| in general. 
111:100,04['  ]| While $PN#B$Captains*Wentworth and $PN#J$Harville led the talk 
111:100,05['  ]| on one side of the room, and, by recurring to former days, 
111:100,06['  ]| supplied anecdotes in abundance to occupy and entertain 
111:100,07['  ]| the others, it fell to $PN#A$Anne's lot to be placed rather apart 
111:100,08['  ]| with $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick; and a very good impulse of her 
111:100,09['  ]| nature obliged her to begin an acquaintance with him. 
111:100,10['  ]| He was shy, and disposed to abstraction; but the 
111:100,11['  ]| engaging mildness of her countenance, and gentleness of 
111:100,12['  ]| her manners, soon had their effect; and $PN#A$Anne was well 
111:100,13['  ]| repaid the first trouble of exertion. 
111:100,13@a   | He was evidently 
111:100,14@a   | a young man of considerable taste in reading, though 
111:100,15@a   | principally in poetry; and besides the persuasion of 
111:100,16@a   | having given him at least an evening's indulgence in the 
111:100,17@a   | discussion of subjects, which his usual companions had 
111:100,18@a   | probably no concern in, she had the hope of being of 
111:100,19@a   | real use to him in some suggestions as to the duty and 
111:100,20@a   | benefit of struggling against affliction, which had naturally 
111:100,21@a   | grown out of their conversation.  For, though shy, he 
111:100,22@a   | did not seem reserved; it had rather the appearance of 
111:100,23@a   | feelings glad to burst their usual restraints; and having 
111:100,24@a   | talked of poetry, the richness of the present age, and gone 
111:100,25@a   | through a brief comparison of opinion as to the first-rate 
111:100,26@a   | poets, trying to ascertain whether \Marmion\ or \The*Lady*of*the*Lake\ 
111:100,27@a   | were to be preferred, and how ranked the \Giaour\ 
111:100,28@a   | and \The*Bride*of*Abydos\; and moreover, how 
111:100,29@a   | the \Giaour\ was to be pronounced, he shewed himself so 
111:100,30@a   | intimately acquainted with all the tenderest songs of 
111:100,31@a   | the one poet, and all the impassioned descriptions of 
111:100,32@a   | hopeless agony of the other; he repeated, with such 
111:100,33@a   | tremulous feeling, the various lines which imaged a broken 
111:100,34@a   | heart, or a mind destroyed by wretchedness, and looked 
111:100,35@a   | so entirely as if he meant to be understood, that she 
111:100,36@a   | ventured to hope he did not always read only poetry; 
111:100,37@a   | and to say, that she thought it was the misfortune of 
111:100,38@a   | poetry, to be seldom safely enjoyed by those who enjoyed 
111:101,01@a   | it completely; and that the strong feelings which alone 
111:101,02@a   | could estimate it truly, were the very feelings which 
111:101,03@a   | ought to taste it but sparingly. 
111:101,04@a   | His looks shewing him not pained, but pleased with 
111:101,05@a   | this allusion to his situation, 
111:101,05['  ]| she was emboldened to go 
111:101,06['  ]| on; and feeling in herself the right of seniority of mind, 
111:101,07['  ]| she ventured to recommend a larger allowance of prose 
111:101,08['  ]| in his daily study; and on being requested to particularize, 
111:101,09['  ]| mentioned such works of our best moralists, such collections 
111:101,10['  ]| of the finest letters, such memoirs of characters 
111:101,11['  ]| of worth and suffering, as occurred to her at the moment 
111:101,12['  ]| as calculated to rouse and fortify the mind by the highest 
111:101,13['  ]| precepts, and the strongest examples of moral and religious 
111:101,14['  ]| endurances. 
111:101,15['  ]| $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick listened attentively, and seemed 
111:101,16['  ]| grateful for the interest implied; and though with a shake 
111:101,17['  ]| of the head, and sighs which declared his little faith in 
111:101,18['  ]| the efficacy of any books on grief like his, noted down 
111:101,19['  ]| the names of those she recommended, and promised to 
111:101,20['  ]| procure and read them. 
111:101,21['  ]| When the evening was over, $PN#A$Anne could not but be 
111:101,22['  ]| amused at the idea of her coming to Lyme, to preach 
111:101,23['  ]| patience and resignation to a young man whom she had 
111:101,24['  ]| never seen before; nor could she help fearing, on more 
111:101,25['  ]| serious reflection, that, like many other great moralists 
111:101,26['  ]| and preachers, she had been eloquent on a point in which 
111:101,27['  ]| her own conduct would ill bear examination. 
112:102,01['  ]| $PN#A$Anne and $PN#R$Henrietta, finding themselves the earliest 
112:102,02['  ]| of the party the next morning, agreed to stroll down to 
112:102,03['  ]| the sea before breakfast. ~~ They went to the sands, to 
112:102,04['  ]| watch the flowing of the tide, which a fine south-easterly 
112:102,05['  ]| breeze was bringing in with all the grandeur which so flat 
112:102,06['  ]| a shore admitted.  They praised the morning; gloried 
112:102,07['  ]| in the sea; sympathized in the delight of the fresh-feeling 
112:102,08['  ]| breeze ~~ and were silent; till $PN#R$Henrietta suddenly began 
112:102,09['  ]| again, with, 
112:102,10[R  ]| "Oh! yes, ~~ I am quite convinced that, with very 
112:102,11[R  ]| few exceptions, the sea-air always does good.  There can 
112:102,12[R  ]| be no doubt of its having been of the greatest service to 
112:102,13[R  ]| $PN#ZZE$Dr%*Shirley, after his illness, last spring twelvemonth. 
112:102,14[R  ]| He declares himself, that coming to Lyme for a month, 
112:102,15[R  ]| did him more good than all the medicine he took; and, 
112:102,16[R  ]| that being by the sea, always makes him feel young 
112:102,17[R  ]| again.  Now, I cannot help thinking it a pity that he does 
112:102,18[R  ]| not live entirely by the sea.  I do think he had better 
112:102,19[R  ]| leave Uppercross entirely, and fix at Lyme. ~~ Do not you, 
112:102,20[R  ]| $PN#A$Anne? ~~ Do not you agree with me, that it is the best 
112:102,21[R  ]| thing he could do, both for himself and $PN#ZZF$Mrs%*Shirley? ~~ 
112:102,22[R  ]| She has cousins here, you know, and many acquaintance, 
112:102,23[R  ]| which would make it cheerful for her, ~~ and I am sure 
112:102,24[R  ]| she would be glad to get to a place where she could have 
112:102,25[R  ]| medical attendance at hand, in case of his having another 
112:102,26[R  ]| seizure.  Indeed I think it quite melancholy to have 
112:102,27[R  ]| such excellent people as $PN#ZZE$Dr% and $PN#ZZF$Mrs%*Shirley, who have 
112:102,28[R  ]| been doing good all their lives, wearing out their last 
112:102,29[R  ]| days in a place like Uppercross, where, excepting our 
112:102,30[R  ]| family, they seem shut out from all the world.  I wish his 
112:102,31[R  ]| friends would propose it to him.  I really think they ought. 
112:102,32[R  ]| And, as to procuring a dispensation, there could be no 
112:102,33[R  ]| difficulty at his time of life, and with his character.  My 
112:103,01[R  ]| only doubt is, whether any*thing could persuade him to 
112:103,02[R  ]| leave his parish.  He is so very strict and scrupulous in 
112:103,03[R  ]| his notions; over-scrupulous, I must say.  Do not you 
112:103,04[R  ]| think, $PN#A$Anne, it is being over-scrupulous?  Do not you 
112:103,05[R  ]| think it is quite a mistaken point of conscience, when 
112:103,06[R  ]| a clergyman sacrifices his health for the sake of duties, 
112:103,07[R  ]| which may be just as well performed by another person? ~~ 
112:103,08[R  ]| And at Lyme too, ~~ only seventeen miles off, ~~ he would 
112:103,09[R  ]| be near enough to hear, if people thought there was any*thing 
112:103,10[R  ]| to complain of." 
112:103,11['  ]| $PN#A$Anne smiled more than once to herself during this 
112:103,12['  ]| speech, and entered into the subject, as ready to do good 
112:103,13['  ]| by entering into the feelings of a young lady as of a young 
112:103,14['  ]| man, ~~ though here it was good of a lower standard, for 
112:103,15['  ]| what could be offered but general acquiescence? ~~ She 
112:103,16['  ]| said all that was reasonable and proper on the business; 
112:103,17['  ]| felt the claims of $PN#ZZE$Dr%*Shirley to repose, as she ought; saw 
112:103,18['  ]| how very desirable it was that he should have some active, 
112:103,19['  ]| respectable young man, as a resident curate, and was 
112:103,20['  ]| even courteous enough to hint at the advantage of such 
112:103,21['  ]| resident curate's being married. 
112:103,22[R  ]| "I wish," 
112:103,22['  ]| said $PN#R$Henrietta, very well pleased with her 
112:103,23['  ]| companion, 
112:103,23[R  ]| "I wish $PN#K$Lady*Russell lived at Uppercross, 
112:103,24[R  ]| and were intimate with $PN#ZZE$Dr%*Shirley.  I have always heard 
112:103,25[R  ]| of $PN#K$Lady*Russell, as a woman of the greatest influence with 
112:103,26[R  ]| every*body!  I always look upon her as able to persuade 
112:103,27[R  ]| a person to any*thing!  I am afraid of her, as I have told 
112:103,28[R  ]| you before, quite afraid of her, because she is so very 
112:103,29[R  ]| clever; but I respect her amazingly, and wish we had 
112:103,30[R  ]| such a neighbour at Uppercross." 
112:103,31['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was amused by $PN#R$Henrietta's manner of being 
112:103,32['  ]| grateful, and amused also, that the course of events and 
112:103,33['  ]| the new interests of $PN#R$Henrietta's views should have placed 
112:103,34['  ]| her friend at all in favour with any of the $PN#W1$Musgrove family; 
112:103,35['  ]| she had only time, however, for a general answer, and 
112:103,36['  ]| a wish that such another woman were at Uppercross, 
112:103,37['  ]| before all subjects suddenly ceased, on seeing $PN#M$Louisa 
112:103,38['  ]| and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth coming towards them.  They 
112:104,01['  ]| came also for a stroll till breakfast was likely to be ready; 
112:104,02['  ]| but $PN#M$Louisa recollecting, immediately afterwards, that she 
112:104,03['  ]| had something to procure at a shop, invited them all to 
112:104,04['  ]| go back with her into the town.  They were all at her 
112:104,05['  ]| disposal. 
112:104,06['  ]| When they came to the steps, leading upwards from 
112:104,07['  ]| the beach, a gentleman at the same moment preparing 
112:104,08['  ]| to come down, politely drew back, and stopped to give 
112:104,09['  ]| them way.  They ascended and passed him; and as they 
112:104,10['  ]| passed, $PN#A$Anne's face caught his eye, and he looked at her 
112:104,11['  ]| with a degree of earnest admiration, which she could not 
112:104,12['  ]| be insensible of.  She was looking remarkably well; her 
112:104,13['  ]| very regular, very pretty features, having the bloom and 
112:104,14['  ]| freshness of youth restored by the fine wind which had 
112:104,15['  ]| been blowing on her complexion, and by the animations 
112:104,16['  ]| of eye which it had also produced. 
112:104,16@a   | It was evident that 
112:104,17@a   | the gentleman, (completely a gentleman in manner) 
112:104,18@a   | admired her exceedingly.  $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth looked 
112:104,19@a   | round at her instantly in a way which shewed his noticing 
112:104,20@a   | of it.  He gave her a momentary glance, ~~ a glance of 
112:104,21@a   | brightness, which seemed to say, "That man is struck 
112:104,22@a   | with you, ~~ and even I, at this moment, see something 
112:104,23@a   | like $PN#A$Anne*Elliot again." 
112:104,24['  ]| After attending $PN#M$Louisa through her business, and 
112:104,25['  ]| loitering about a little longer, they returned to the inn; 
112:104,26['  ]| and $PN#A$Anne in passing afterwards quickly from her own 
112:104,27['  ]| chamber to their dining-room, had nearly run against 
112:104,28['  ]| the very same gentleman, as he came out of an adjoining 
112:104,29['  ]| apartment.  She had before conjectured him to be 
112:104,30['  ]| a stranger like themselves, and determined that a well-looking 
112:104,31['  ]| groom, who was strolling about near the two inns 
112:104,32['  ]| as they came back, should be his servant.  Both master 
112:104,33['  ]| and man being in mourning, assisted the idea. 
112:104,33@a   | It was 
112:104,34@a   | now proved that he belonged to the same inn as themselves; 
112:104,35@a   | and this second meeting, short as it was, also 
112:104,36@a   | proved again by the gentleman's looks, that he thought 
112:104,37@a   | hers very lovely, and by the readiness and propriety of 
112:104,38@a   | his apologies, that he was a man of exceedingly good 
112:105,01@a   | manners.  He seemed about thirty, and, though not 
112:105,02@a   | handsome, had an agreeable person. 
112:105,02['  ]| $PN#A$Anne felt that she 
112:105,03['  ]| should like to know who he was. 
112:105,04['  ]| They had nearly done breakfast, when the sound of 
112:105,05['  ]| a carriage, (almost the first they had heard since entering 
112:105,06['  ]| Lyme) drew half the party to the window. 
112:105,06[X  ]| "It was 
112:105,07[X  ]| a gentleman's carriage ~~ a curricle ~~ but only coming 
112:105,08[X  ]| round from the stable-yard to the front door ~~ Somebody 
112:105,09[X  ]| must be going away. ~~ It was driven by a servant in 
112:105,10[X  ]| mourning." 
112:105,11['  ]| The word curricle made $PN#O$Charles*Musgrove jump up, 
112:105,12['  ]| that he might compare it with his own, the servant in 
112:105,13['  ]| mourning roused $PN#A$Anne's curiosity, and the whole six 
112:105,14['  ]| were collected to look, by the time the owner of the 
112:105,15['  ]| curricle was to be seen issuing from the door amidst the 
112:105,16['  ]| bows and civilities of the household, and taking his seat, 
112:105,17['  ]| to drive off. 
112:105,18[B  ]| "Ah!" 
112:105,18['  ]| cried $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, instantly, and with 
112:105,19['  ]| half a glance at $PN#A$Anne; 
112:105,19[B  ]| "it is the very man we passed." 
112:105,20['  ]| The $PN#R1$Miss*Musgroves agreed to it; and having all 
112:105,21['  ]| kindly watched him as far up the hill as they could, they 
112:105,22['  ]| returned to the breakfast-table.  The waiter came into 
112:105,23['  ]| the room soon afterwards. 
112:105,24[B  ]| "Pray," 
112:105,24['  ]| said $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, immediately, 
112:105,24[B  ]| "can 
112:105,25[B  ]| you tell us the name of the gentleman who is just gone 
112:105,26[B  ]| away?" 
112:105,27[W  ]| "Yes, Sir, a $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot; a gentleman of large fortune, ~~ 
112:105,28[W  ]| came in last night from Sidmouth, ~~ dare say you heard 
112:105,29[W  ]| the carriage, Sir, while you were at dinner; and going on 
112:105,30[W  ]| now for Crewkherne, in his way to Bath and London." 
112:105,31[X  ]| "$PN#I$Elliot!" ~~ 
112:105,31['  ]| Many had looked on each other, and 
112:105,32['  ]| many had repeated the name, before all this had been got 
112:105,33['  ]| through, even by the smart rapidity of a waiter. 
112:105,34[P  ]| "Bless me!" 
112:105,34['  ]| cried $PN#P$Mary; 
112:105,34[P  ]| "it must be our cousin; ~~ 
112:105,35[P  ]| it must be our $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, it must, indeed! ~~ $PN#O$Charles, 
112:105,36[P  ]| $PN#A$Anne, must not it?  In mourning, you see, just as our 
112:105,37[P  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot must be.  How very extraordinary!  In the 
112:105,38[P  ]| very same inn with us!  $PN#A$Anne, must not it be our $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot; 
112:106,01[P  ]| my father's next heir?  Pray Sir," 
112:106,01['  ]| (turning to 
112:106,02['  ]| the waiter), 
112:106,02[P  ]| "did not you hear, ~~ did not his servant say 
112:106,03[P  ]| whether he belonged to the Kellynch family?" 
112:106,04[W  ]| "No, ma'am, ~~ he did not mention no particular 
112:106,05[W  ]| family; but he said his master was a very rich gentleman, 
112:106,06[W  ]| and would be a baronight some day." 
112:106,07[P  ]| "There! you see!" 
112:106,07['  ]| cried $PN#P$Mary, in an ecstacy, 
112:106,07[P  ]| "Just 
112:106,08[P  ]| as I said!  Heir to $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot! ~~ I was sure that 
112:106,09[P  ]| would come out, if it was so.  Depend upon it, that is 
112:106,10[P  ]| a circumstance which his servants take care to publish 
112:106,11[P  ]| wherever he goes.  But, $PN#A$Anne, only conceive how extraordinary! 
112:106,12[P  ]| I wish I had looked at him more.  I wish we 
112:106,13[P  ]| had been aware in time, who it was, that he might have 
112:106,14[P  ]| been introduced to us.  What a pity that we should not 
112:106,15[P  ]| have been introduced to each other! ~~ Do you think he 
112:106,16[P  ]| had the $PN#G1$Elliot countenance?  I hardly looked at him, 
112:106,17[P  ]| I was looking at the horses; but I think he had something 
112:106,18[P  ]| of the $PN#G1$Elliot countenance.  I wonder the arms did not 
112:106,19[P  ]| strike me!  Oh! ~~ the great-coat was hanging over the 
112:106,20[P  ]| pannel, and hid the arms; so it did, otherwise, I am sure, 
112:106,21[P  ]| I should have observed them, and the livery too; if the 
112:106,22[P  ]| servant had not been in mourning, one should have known 
112:106,23[P  ]| him by the livery." 
112:106,24[B  ]| "Putting all these very extraordinary circumstances 
112:106,25[B  ]| together," 
112:106,25['  ]| said $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
112:106,25[B  ]| "we must consider 
112:106,26[B  ]| it to be the arrangement of Providence, that you should 
112:106,27[B  ]| not be introduced to your cousin." 
112:106,28['  ]| When she could command $PN#P$Mary's attention, $PN#A$Anne 
112:106,29['  ]| quietly tried to convince her that 
112:106,29@a   | their father and 
112:106,30@a   | $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot had not, for many years, been on such terms 
112:106,31@a   | as to make the power of attempting an introduction at 
112:106,32@a   | all desirable. 
112:106,33['  ]| At the same time, however, it was a secret gratification 
112:106,34['  ]| to herself to have seen her cousin, and to know that 
112:106,34@a   | the 
112:106,35@a   | future owner of Kellynch was undoubtedly a gentleman, 
112:106,36@a   | and had an air of good sense. 
112:106,36['  ]| She would not, upon any 
112:106,37['  ]| account, mention her having met with him the second 
112:106,38['  ]| time; 
112:106,38@a   | luckily $PN#P$Mary did not much attend to their having 
112:107,01@a   | passed close by him in their early walk, but she would 
112:107,02@a   | have felt quite ill-used by $PN#A$Anne's having actually run 
112:107,03@a   | against him in the passage, and received his very polite 
112:107,04@a   | excuses, while she had never been near him at all; no, that 
112:107,05@a   | cousinly little interview must remain a perfect secret. 
112:107,06[P  ]| "Of course," 
112:107,06['  ]| said $PN#P$Mary, 
112:107,06[P  ]| "you will mention our seeing 
112:107,07[P  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, the next time you write to Bath.  I think my 
112:107,08[P  ]| father certainly ought to hear of it; do mention all about 
112:107,09[P  ]| him." 
112:107,10['  ]| $PN#A$Anne avoided a direct reply, but it was just the circumstance 
112:107,11['  ]| which she considered 
112:107,11@a   | as not merely unnecessary to 
112:107,12@a   | be communicated, but as what ought to be suppressed. 
112:107,13@a   | The offence which had been given her father, many years 
112:107,14@a   | back, she knew; $PN#H$Elizabeth's particular share in it she 
112:107,15@a   | suspected; and that $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's idea always produced 
112:107,16@a   | irritation in both, was beyond a doubt.  
112:107,16['  ]| $PN#P$Mary never 
112:107,17['  ]| wrote to Bath herself; all the toil of keeping up a slow 
112:107,18['  ]| and unsatisfactory correspondence with $PN#H$Elizabeth fell on 
112:107,19['  ]| $PN#A$Anne. 
112:107,20['  ]| Breakfast had not been long over, when they were 
112:107,21['  ]| joined by $PN#J$Captain and $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville, and $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, 
112:107,22['  ]| with whom they had appointed to take their last walk 
112:107,23['  ]| about Lyme.  They ought to be setting off for Uppercross 
112:107,24['  ]| by one, and in the meanwhile were to be all together, 
112:107,25['  ]| and out of doors as long as they could. 
112:107,26['  ]| $PN#A$Anne found $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick getting near her, as soon 
112:107,27['  ]| as they were all fairly in the street.  Their conversation, 
112:107,28['  ]| the preceding evening, did not disincline him to seek her 
112:107,29['  ]| again; and they walked together some time, talking as 
112:107,30['  ]| before of $PN#Z1$Mr%*Scott and $PN#Z1$Lord*Byron, and still as unable, 
112:107,31['  ]| as before, and as unable as any other two readers, to think 
112:107,32['  ]| exactly alike of the merits of either, till something 
112:107,33['  ]| occasioned an almost general change amongst their party, 
112:107,34['  ]| and instead of $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, she had $PN#J$Captain*Harville 
112:107,35['  ]| by her side. 
112:107,36[J  ]| "$PN#A$Miss*Elliot," 
112:107,36['  ]| said he, speaking rather low, 
112:107,36[J  ]| "you have 
112:107,37[J  ]| done a good deed in making that poor fellow talk so much. 
112:107,38[J  ]| I wish he could have such company oftener.  It is bad 
112:108,01[J  ]| for him, I know, to be shut up as he is; but what can we 
112:108,02[J  ]| do? we cannot part." 
112:108,03[A  ]| "No," 
112:108,03['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, 
112:108,03[A  ]| "that I can easily believe to be 
112:108,04[A  ]| impossible; but in time, perhaps ~~ we know what time 
112:108,05[A  ]| does in every case of affliction, and you must remember, 
112:108,06[A  ]| $PN#J$Captain*Harville, that your friend may yet be called 
112:108,07[A  ]| a young mourner ~~ Only last summer, I understand." 
112:108,08[J  ]|  "Ay, true enough," 
112:108,08['  ]| (with a deep sigh) 
112:108,08[J  ]| "only June." 
112:108,09[A  ]| "And not known to him, perhaps, so soon." 
112:108,10[J  ]| "Not till the first week in August, when he came home 
112:108,11[J  ]| from the Cape, ~~ just made into the Grappler.  I was at 
112:108,12[J  ]| Plymouth, dreading to hear of him; he sent in letters, 
112:108,13[J  ]| but the Grappler was under orders for Portsmouth. 
112:108,14[J  ]| There the news must follow him, but who was to tell it? 
112:108,15[J  ]| not I.  I would as soon have been run up to the yard-arm. 
112:108,16[J  ]| Nobody could do it, but that good fellow, 
112:108,16['  ]| (pointing to 
112:108,17['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth.) 
112:108,17[J  ]| The Laconia had come into 
112:108,18[J  ]| Plymouth the week before; no danger of her being sent 
112:108,19[J  ]| to sea again.  He stood his chance for the rest ~~ wrote up 
112:108,20[J  ]| for leave of absence, but without waiting the return, 
112:108,21[J  ]| travelled night and day till he got to Portsmouth, rowed 
112:108,22[J  ]| off to the Grappler that instant, and never left the poor 
112:108,23[J  ]| fellow for a week; that's what he did, and nobody else 
112:108,24[J  ]| could have saved poor $PN#ZD$James.  You may think, $PN#A$Miss*Elliot, 
112:108,25[J  ]| whether he is dear to us!" 
112:108,26['  ]| $PN#A$Anne did think on the question with perfect decision, 
112:108,27['  ]| and said as much in reply as her own feelings could 
112:108,28['  ]| accomplish, or as his seemed able to bear, for he was too 
112:108,29['  ]| much affected to renew the subject ~~ and when he spoke 
112:108,30['  ]| again, it was of something totally different. 
112:108,31['  ]| $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville's giving it as her opinion that 
112:108,31@v   | her husband 
112:108,32@v   | would have quite walking enough by the time he reached 
112:108,33@v   | home, 
112:108,33['  ]| determined the direction of all the party in what 
112:108,34['  ]| was to be their last walk; they would accompany them 
112:108,35['  ]| to their door, and then return and set off themselves. 
112:108,36['  ]| By all their calculations there was just time for this; 
112:108,37['  ]| but as they drew near the Cobb, there was such a general 
112:108,38['  ]| wish to walk along it once more, all were so inclined, 
112:109,01['  ]| and $PN#M$Louisa soon grew so determined, that the difference of 
112:109,02['  ]| a quarter of an hour, it was found, would be no difference 
112:109,03['  ]| at all, so with all the kind leave-taking, and all the kind 
112:109,04['  ]| interchange of invitations and promises which may be 
112:109,05['  ]| imagined, they parted from $PN#J$Captain and $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville 
112:109,06['  ]| at their own door, and still accompanied by $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, 
112:109,07['  ]| who seemed to cling to them to the last, proceeded 
112:109,08['  ]| to make the proper adieus to the Cobb. 
112:109,09['  ]| $PN#A$Anne found $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick again drawing near her. 
112:109,10['  ]| $PN#Z1$Lord*Byron's 
112:109,10@z   | "dark blue seas" 
112:109,10['  ]| could not fail of being 
112:109,11['  ]| brought forward by their present view, and she gladly 
112:109,12['  ]| gave him all her attention as long as attention was possible. 
112:109,13['  ]| It was soon drawn per*force another way. 
112:109,14['  ]| There was too much wind to make the high part of the 
112:109,15['  ]| new Cobb pleasant for the ladies, and they agreed to get 
112:109,16['  ]| down the steps to the lower, and all were contented to 
112:109,17['  ]| pass quietly and carefully down the steep flight, excepting 
112:109,18['  ]| $PN#M$Louisa; she must be jumped down them by $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth. 
112:109,19['  ]| In all their walks, he had had to jump her 
112:109,20['  ]| from the stiles; the sensation was delightful to her.  The 
112:109,21['  ]| hardness of the pavement for her feet, made him less 
112:109,22['  ]| willing upon the present occasion; he did it, however; 
112:109,23['  ]| she was safely down, and instantly, to shew her enjoyment, 
112:109,24['  ]| ran up the steps to be jumped down again.  He 
112:109,25['  ]| advised her against it, thought the jar too great; but no, 
112:109,26['  ]| he reasoned and talked in vain; she smiled and said, 
112:109,27[M  ]| "I am determined I will:" 
112:109,27['  ]| he put out his hands; she 
112:109,28['  ]| was too precipitate by half a second, she fell on the 
112:109,29['  ]| pavement on the Lower Cobb, and was taken up lifeless! 
112:109,30['  ]| There was no wound, no blood, no visible bruise; but 
112:109,31['  ]| her eyes were closed, she breathed not, her face was like 
112:109,32['  ]| death. ~~ The horror of that moment to all who stood 
112:109,33['  ]| around! 
112:109,34['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, who had caught her up, knelt with 
112:109,35['  ]| her in his arms, looking on her with a face as pallid as her 
112:109,36['  ]| own, in an agony of silence. 
112:109,36[P  ]| "She is dead! she is dead!" 
112:109,37['  ]| screamed $PN#P$Mary, catching hold of her husband, and contributing 
112:109,38['  ]| with his own horror to make him immoveable; 
112:110,01['  ]| and in another moment, $PN#R$Henrietta, sinking under the 
112:110,02['  ]| conviction, lost her senses too, and would have fallen on 
112:110,03['  ]| the steps, but for $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick and $PN#A$Anne, who caught 
112:110,04['  ]| and supported her between them. 
112:110,05[B  ]| "Is there no*one to help me?" 
112:110,05['  ]| were the first words 
112:110,06['  ]| which burst from $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, in a tone of despair, 
112:110,07['  ]| and as if all his own strength were gone. 
112:110,08[A  ]| "Go to him, go to him," 
112:110,08['  ]| cried $PN#A$Anne, 
112:110,08[A  ]| "for heaven's 
112:110,09[A  ]| sake go to him.  I can support her myself.  Leave me, 
112:110,10[A  ]| and go to him.  Rub her hands, rub her temples; here 
112:110,11[A  ]| are salts, ~~ take them, take them." 
112:110,12['  ]| $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick obeyed, and $PN#O$Charles at the same 
112:110,13['  ]| moment, disengaging himself from his wife, they were 
112:110,14['  ]| both with him; and $PN#M$Louisa was raised up and supported 
112:110,15['  ]| more firmly between them, and every*thing was done 
112:110,16['  ]| that $PN#A$Anne had prompted, but in vain; while $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
112:110,17['  ]| staggering against the wall for his support, 
112:110,18['  ]| exclaimed in the bitterest agony, 
112:110,19[B  ]| "Oh God! her father and mother!" 
112:110,20[A  ]| "A surgeon!" 
112:110,20['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne. 
112:110,21['  ]| He caught the word; it seemed to rouse him at once, 
112:110,22['  ]| and saying only 
112:110,22[B  ]| "True, true, a surgeon this instant," 
112:110,23['  ]| was darting away, when $PN#A$Anne eagerly suggested, 
112:110,24[A  ]| "$PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, would not it be better for $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick? 
112:110,25[A  ]| He knows where a surgeon is to be found." 
112:110,26['  ]| Every*one capable of thinking felt the advantage of 
112:110,27['  ]| the idea, and in a moment (it was all done in rapid 
112:110,28['  ]| moments) $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick had resigned the poor corpse-like 
112:110,29['  ]| figure entirely to the brother's care, and was off for 
112:110,30['  ]| the town with the utmost rapidity. 
112:110,31['  ]| As to the wretched party left behind, it could scarcely 
112:110,32['  ]| be said which of the three, who were completely rational, 
112:110,33['  ]| was suffering most, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, $PN#A$Anne, or $PN#O$Charles, 
112:110,34['  ]| who, really a very affectionate brother, hung over $PN#M$Louisa 
112:110,35['  ]| with sobs of grief, and could only turn his eyes from one 
112:110,36['  ]| sister, to see the other in a state as insensible, or to witness 
112:110,37['  ]| the hysterical agitations of his wife, calling on him for 
112:110,38['  ]| help which he could not give. 
112:111,01['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, attending with all the strength and zeal, and 
112:111,02['  ]| thought, which instinct supplied, to $PN#R$Henrietta, still tried, 
112:111,03['  ]| at intervals, to suggest comfort to the others, tried to 
112:111,04['  ]| quiet $PN#P$Mary, to animate $PN#O$Charles, to assuage the feelings 
112:111,05['  ]| of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth.  Both seemed to look to her for 
112:111,06['  ]| directions. 
112:111,07[O  ]| "$PN#A$Anne, $PN#A$Anne," 
112:111,07['  ]| cried $PN#O$Charles, 
112:111,07[O  ]| "what is to be done 
112:111,08[O  ]| next?  What, in heaven's name, is to be done next?" 
112:111,09['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's eyes were also turned towards her. 
112:111,10[A  ]| "Had not she better be carried to the inn?  Yes, I am 
112:111,11[A  ]| sure, carry her gently to the inn." 
112:111,12[B  ]| "Yes, yes, to the inn," 
112:111,12['  ]| repeated $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
112:111,13['  ]| comparatively collected, and eager to be doing something. 
112:111,14[B  ]| "I will carry her myself.  $PN#O$Musgrove, take care of the 
112:111,15[B  ]| others." 
112:111,16['  ]| By this time the report of the accident had spread 
112:111,17['  ]| among the workmen and boatmen about the Cobb, and 
112:111,18['  ]| many were collected near them, to be useful if wanted, 
112:111,19['  ]| at any rate, to enjoy the sight of a dead young lady, 
112:111,19@x   | nay, 
112:111,20@x   | two dead young ladies, for it proved twice as fine as the 
112:111,21@x   | first report. 
112:111,21['  ]| To some of the best-looking of these good 
112:111,22['  ]| people $PN#R$Henrietta was consigned, for, though partially 
112:111,23['  ]| revived, she was quite helpless; and in this manner, 
112:111,24['  ]| $PN#A$Anne walking by her side, and $PN#O$Charles attending to his 
112:111,25['  ]| wife, they set forward, treading back with feelings 
112:111,26['  ]| unutterable, the ground which so lately, so very lately, 
112:111,27['  ]| and so light of heart, they had passed along. 
112:111,28['  ]| They were not off the Cobb, before the $PN#J1$Harvilles met 
112:111,29['  ]| them.  $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick had been seen flying by their 
112:111,30['  ]| house, with a countenance which shewed something to 
112:111,31['  ]| be wrong; and they had set off immediately, informed 
112:111,32['  ]| and directed, as they passed, towards the spot.  Shocked 
112:111,33['  ]| as $PN#J$Captain*Harville was, he brought senses and nerves 
112:111,34['  ]| that could be instantly useful; and a look between him 
112:111,35['  ]| and his wife decided what was to be done. 
112:111,35@y   | She must be 
112:111,36@y   | taken to their house ~~ all must go to their house ~~ and 
112:111,37@y   | wait the surgeon's arrival there. 
112:111,37['  ]| They would not listen 
112:111,38['  ]| to scruples:  he was obeyed; they were all beneath his 
112:112,01['  ]| roof; and while $PN#M$Louisa, under $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville's direction, 
112:112,02['  ]| was conveyed up*stairs, and given possession of her own 
112:112,03['  ]| bed, assistance, cordials, restoratives were supplied by 
112:112,04['  ]| her husband to all who needed them. 
112:112,05['  ]| $PN#M$Louisa had once opened her eyes, but soon closed them 
112:112,06['  ]| again, without apparent consciousness.  This had been 
112:112,07['  ]| a proof of life, however, of service to her sister; and 
112:112,08['  ]| $PN#R$Henrietta, though perfectly incapable of being in the same 
112:112,09['  ]| room with $PN#M$Louisa, was kept, by the agitation of hope and 
112:112,10['  ]| fear, from a return of her own insensibility.  $PN#P$Mary, too, 
112:112,11['  ]| was growing calmer. 
112:112,12['  ]| The surgeon was with them almost before it had seemed 
112:112,13['  ]| possible.  They were sick with horror while he examined; 
112:112,14['  ]| but he was not hopeless.  The head had received a severe 
112:112,15['  ]| contusion, but he had seen greater injuries recovered 
112:112,16['  ]| from:  he was by no means hopeless; he spoke cheerfully. 
112:112,17['  ]| That he did not regard it as a desperate case ~~ that he 
112:112,18['  ]| did not say a few hours must end it ~~ was at first felt, 
112:112,19['  ]| beyond the hope of most; and the ecstasy of such 
112:112,20['  ]| a reprieve, the rejoicing, deep and silent, after a few 
112:112,21['  ]| fervent ejaculations of gratitude to Heaven had been 
112:112,22['  ]| offered, may be conceived. 
112:112,23['  ]| The tone, the look, with which 
112:112,23[B  ]| "Thank God!" 
112:112,23['  ]| was 
112:112,24['  ]| uttered by $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, $PN#A$Anne was sure could 
112:112,25['  ]| never be forgotten by her; nor the sight of him afterwards, 
112:112,26['  ]| as he sat near a table, leaning over it with folded arms, 
112:112,27['  ]| and face concealed, as if overpowered by the various 
112:112,28['  ]| feelings of his soul, and trying by prayer and reflection 
112:112,29['  ]| to calm them. 
112:112,30['  ]| $PN#M$Louisa's limbs had escaped.  There was no injury but 
112:112,31['  ]| to the head. 
112:112,32['  ]| It now became necessary for the party to consider what 
112:112,33['  ]| was best to be done, as to their general situation.  They 
112:112,34['  ]| were now able to speak to each other, and consult.  That 
112:112,35['  ]| $PN#M$Louisa must remain where she was, however distressing 
112:112,36['  ]| to her friends to be involving the $PN#J1$Harvilles in such 
112:112,37['  ]| trouble, did not admit a doubt.  Her removal was impossible. 
112:112,38['  ]| The $PN#J1$Harvilles silenced all scruples; and, as 
112:113,01['  ]| much as they could, all gratitude.  They had looked forward 
112:113,02['  ]| and arranged every*thing, before the others began 
112:113,03['  ]| to reflect. 
112:113,03@y   | $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick must give up his room to 
112:113,04@y   | them, and get a bed elsewhere ~~ 
112:113,04['  ]| and the whole was 
112:113,05['  ]| settled. 
112:113,05@y   | They were only concerned that the house could 
112:113,06@y   | accommodate no more; and yet perhaps by 
112:113,06[Y  ]| "putting 
112:113,07[Y  ]| the children away in the maids' room, or swinging a cot 
112:113,08[Y  ]| somewhere," 
112:113,08@y   | they could hardly bear to think of not 
112:113,09@y   | finding room for two or three besides, supposing they might 
112:113,10@y   | wish to stay; though, with regard to any attendance on 
112:113,11@y   | $PN#M$Miss*Musgrove, there need not be the least uneasiness in 
112:113,12@y   | leaving her to $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville's care entirely.  $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville 
112:113,13@y   | was a very experienced nurse; and her nursery-maid, 
112:113,14@y   | who had lived with her long and gone about with her every*where, 
112:113,15@y   | was just such another.  Between those two, she 
112:113,16@y   | could want no possible attendance by day or night. 
112:113,16['  ]| And 
112:113,17['  ]| all this was said with a truth and sincerity of feeling 
112:113,18['  ]| irresistible. 
112:113,19['  ]| $PN#O$Charles, $PN#R$Henrietta, and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth were the 
112:113,20['  ]| three in consultation, and for a little while it was only 
112:113,21['  ]| an interchange of perplexity and terror. 
112:113,21@y   | "Uppercross, ~~ 
112:113,22@y   | the necessity of some*one's going to Uppercross, ~~ the 
112:113,23@y   | news to be conveyed ~~ how it could be broken to $PN#W$Mr% and 
112:113,24@y   | $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove ~~ the lateness of the morning, ~~ an hour 
112:113,25@y   | already gone since they ought to have been off, ~~ the 
112:113,26@y   | impossibility of being in tolerable time. 
112:113,27['  ]| At first, they 
112:113,27['  ]| were capable of nothing more to the purpose than such 
112:113,28['  ]| exclamations; but, after a while, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
112:113,29['  ]| exerting himself, said, 
112:113,30[B  ]| "We must be decided, and without the loss of another 
112:113,31[B  ]| minute.  Every minute is valuable.  Some must resolve 
112:113,32[B  ]| on being off for Uppercross instantly.  $PN#O$Musgrove, either 
112:113,33[B  ]| you or I must go." 
112:113,34['  ]| $PN#O$Charles agreed; but declared his resolution of not 
112:113,35['  ]| going away. 
112:113,35@o   | He would be as little incumbrance as possible 
112:113,36@o   | to $PN#J$Captain and $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville; but as to leaving his 
112:113,37@o   | sister in such a state, he neither ought, nor would. 
112:113,37['  ]| So 
112:113,38['  ]| far it was decided; and $PN#R$Henrietta at first declared the 
112:114,01['  ]| same.  She, however, was soon persuaded to think 
112:114,02['  ]| differently. 
112:114,02@y   | The usefulness of her staying! ~~ She, who 
112:114,03@y   | had not been able to remain in $PN#M$Louisa's room, or to look 
112:114,04@y   | at her, without sufferings which made her worse than 
112:114,05@y   | helpless! 
112:114,05['  ]| She was forced to acknowledge that she could 
112:114,06['  ]| do no good; yet was still unwilling to be away, till touched 
112:114,07['  ]| by the thought of her father and mother, she gave it up; 
112:114,08['  ]| she consented, she was anxious to be at home. 
112:114,09['  ]| The plan had reached this point, when $PN#A$Anne, coming 
112:114,10['  ]| quietly down from $PN#M$Louisa's room, could not but hear 
112:114,11['  ]| what followed, for the parlour door was open. 
112:114,12[B  ]| "Then it is settled, $PN#O$Musgrove," 
112:114,12['  ]| cried $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
112:114,13[B  ]| "that you stay, and that I take care of your 
112:114,14[B  ]| sister home.  But as to the rest; ~~ as to the others; ~~ 
112:114,15[B  ]| If one stays to assist $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville, I think it need be 
112:114,16[B  ]| only one. ~~ $PN#P$Mrs%*Charles*Musgrove will, of course, wish 
112:114,17[B  ]| to get back to her children; but, if $PN#A$Anne will stay, no 
112:114,18[B  ]| one so proper, so capable as $PN#A$Anne!" 
112:114,19['  ]| She paused a moment to recover from the emotion of 
112:114,20['  ]| hearing herself so spoken of.  The other two warmly 
112:114,21['  ]| agreed to what he said, and she then appeared. 
112:114,22[B  ]| "You will stay, I am sure; you will stay and nurse 
112:114,23[B  ]| her;" 
112:114,23['  ]| cried he, turning to her and speaking with a glow, 
112:114,24['  ]| and yet a gentleness, which seemed almost restoring the 
112:114,25['  ]| past. ~~ She coloured deeply; and he recollected himself, 
112:114,26['  ]| and moved away. ~~ She expressed herself 
112:114,26@a   | most willing, 
112:114,27@a   | ready, happy to remain. 
112:114,27[A  ]| "It was what she had been 
112:114,28[A  ]| thinking of, and wishing to be allowed to do. ~~ A bed on 
112:114,29[A  ]| the floor in $PN#M$Louisa's room would be sufficient for her, if 
112:114,30[A  ]| $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville would but think so." 
112:114,31['  ]| One thing more, and all seemed arranged.  Though it 
112:114,32['  ]| was rather desirable that $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove should 
112:114,33['  ]| be previously alarmed by some share of delay; yet the 
112:114,34['  ]| time required by the Uppercross horses to take them back, 
112:114,35['  ]| would be a dreadful extension of suspense; and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
112:114,36['  ]| proposed, and $PN#O$Charles*Musgrove agreed, that 
112:114,37['  ]| it would be much better for him to take a chaise from the 
112:114,38['  ]| inn, and leave $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove's carriage and horses to be 
112:115,01['  ]| sent home the next morning early, when there would be the 
112:115,02['  ]| farther advantage of sending an account of $PN#M$Louisa's night. 
112:115,03['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth now hurried off to get every*thing 
112:115,04['  ]| ready on his part, and to be soon followed by the two 
112:115,05['  ]| ladies.  When the plan was made known to $PN#P$Mary, however, 
112:115,06['  ]| there was an end of all peace in it.  She was so 
112:115,07['  ]| wretched, and so vehement, complained so much of injustice 
112:115,08['  ]| in being expected to go away, instead of $PN#A$Anne; ~~ 
112:115,09@p   | $PN#A$Anne, who was nothing to $PN#M$Louisa, while she was her sister, 
112:115,10@p   | and had the best right to stay in $PN#R$Henrietta's stead! 
112:115,11@p   | Why was not she to be as useful as $PN#A$Anne?  And to go 
112:115,12@p   | home without $PN#O$Charles, too ~~ without her husband!  No, 
112:115,13@p   | it was too unkind! 
112:115,13['  ]| And, in short, she said more than her 
112:115,14['  ]| husband could long withstand; and as none of the others 
112:115,15['  ]| could oppose when he gave way, there was no help for 
112:115,16['  ]| it:  the change of $PN#P$Mary for $PN#A$Anne was inevitable. 
112:115,17['  ]| $PN#A$Anne had never submitted more reluctantly to the 
112:115,18['  ]| jealous and ill-judging claims of $PN#P$Mary; but so it must be, 
112:115,19['  ]| and they set off for the town, $PN#O$Charles taking care of his 
112:115,20['  ]| sister, and $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick attending to her.  She gave 
112:115,21['  ]| a moment's recollection, as they hurried along, to the 
112:115,22['  ]| little circumstances which the same spots had witnessed 
112:115,23['  ]| earlier in the morning. 
112:115,23@a   | There she had listened to $PN#R$Henrietta's 
112:115,24@a   | schemes for $PN#ZZE$Dr%*Shirley's leaving Uppercross; 
112:115,25@a   | farther on, she had first seen $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot; a moment 
112:115,26@a   | seemed all that could now be given to any*one but $PN#M$Louisa, 
112:115,27@a   | or those who were wrapt up in her welfare. 
112:115,28['  ]| $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick was most considerately attentive to 
112:115,29['  ]| her; and, united as they all seemed by the distress of the 
112:115,30['  ]| day, she felt an increasing degree of good-will towards 
112:115,31['  ]| him, and a pleasure even in thinking that it might, 
112:115,32['  ]| perhaps, be the occasion of continuing their acquaintance. 
112:115,33['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was on the watch for them, and 
112:115,34['  ]| a chaise*and*four in waiting, stationed for their convenience 
112:115,35['  ]| in the lowest part of the street; but his evident 
112:115,36['  ]| surprise and vexation, at the substitution of one sister for 
112:115,37['  ]| the other ~~ the change of his countenance ~~ the astonishment ~~ 
112:115,38['  ]| the expressions begun and suppressed, with which 
112:116,01['  ]| $PN#O$Charles was listened to, made but a mortifying reception 
112:116,02['  ]| of $PN#A$Anne; or must at least convince her that she was 
112:116,03['  ]| valued only as she could be useful to $PN#M$Louisa. 
112:116,04['  ]| She endeavoured to be composed, and to be just. 
112:116,05['  ]| Without emulating the feelings of an $PN#Z2$Emma towards her 
112:116,06['  ]| $PN#Z2$Henry, she would have attended on $PN#M$Louisa with a zeal 
112:116,07['  ]| above the common claims of regard, for his sake; and she 
112:116,08['  ]| hoped he would not long be so unjust as to suppose she 
112:116,09['  ]| would shrink unnecessarily from the office of a friend. 
112:116,10['  ]| In the meanwhile she was in the carriage.  He had 
112:116,11['  ]| handed them both in, and placed himself between them; 
112:116,12['  ]| and in this manner, under these circumstances full of 
112:116,13['  ]| astonishment and emotion to $PN#A$Anne, she quitted Lyme. 
112:116,14@a   | How the long stage would pass; how it was to affect 
112:116,15@a   | their manners; what was to be their sort of intercourse, 
112:116,16@a   | she could not foresee.  It was all quite natural, however. 
112:116,17@a   | He was devoted to $PN#R$Henrietta; always turning towards 
112:116,18@a   | her; and when he spoke at all, always with the view of 
112:116,19@a   | supporting her hopes and raising her spirits.  In general, 
112:116,20@a   | his voice and manner were studiously calm.  To spare 
112:116,21@a   | $PN#R$Henrietta from agitation seemed the governing principle. 
112:116,22['  ]| Once only, when she had been grieving over the last ill-judged, 
112:116,23['  ]| ill-fated walk to the Cobb, bitterly lamenting 
112:116,24['  ]| that it ever had been thought of, he burst forth, as if 
112:116,25['  ]| wholly overcome ~~ 
112:116,26[B  ]| "Don't talk of it, don't talk of it," 
112:116,26['  ]| he cried. 
112:116,26[B  ]| "Oh 
112:116,27[B  ]| God!  that I had not given way to her at the fatal moment! 
112:116,28[B  ]| Had I done as I ought!  But so eager and so resolute! 
112:116,29[B  ]| Dear, sweet $PN#M$Louisa!" 
112:116,30['  ]| $PN#A$Anne wondered 
112:116,30@a   | whether it ever occurred to him now, 
112:116,31@a   | to question the justness of his own previous opinion as 
112:116,32@a   | to the universal felicity and advantage of firmness of 
112:116,33@a   | character; and whether it might not strike him, that, 
112:116,34@a   | like all other qualities of the mind, it should have its 
112:116,35@a   | proportions and limits. 
112:116,35['  ]| She thought 
112:116,35@a   | it could scarcely 
112:116,36@a   | escape him to feel, that a persuadable temper might 
112:116,37@a   | sometimes be as much in favour of happiness, as a very 
112:116,38@a   | resolute character. 
112:117,01['  ]| They got on fast.  $PN#A$Anne was astonished to recognise 
112:117,02['  ]| the same hills and the same objects so soon.  Their actual 
112:117,03['  ]| speed, heightened by some dread of the conclusion, made 
112:117,04['  ]| the road appear but half as long as on the day before.  It 
112:117,05['  ]| was growing quite dusk, however, before they were in 
112:117,06['  ]| the neighbourhood of Uppercross, and there had been 
112:117,07['  ]| total silence among them for some time, $PN#R$Henrietta 
112:117,08['  ]| leaning back in the corner, with a shawl over her face, 
112:117,09['  ]| giving the hope of her having cried herself to sleep; when, 
112:117,10['  ]| as they were going up their last hill, $PN#A$Anne found herself 
112:117,11['  ]| all at once addressed by $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth.  In a low, 
112:117,12['  ]| cautious voice, he said, 
112:117,13[B  ]| "I have been considering what we had best do.  She 
112:117,14[B  ]| must not appear at first.  She could not stand it.  I have 
112:117,15[B  ]| been thinking whether you had not better remain in the 
112:117,16[B  ]| carriage with her, while I go in and break it to $PN#W$Mr% and 
112:117,17[B  ]| $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove.  Do you think this a good plan?" 
112:117,18['  ]| She did:  he was satisfied, and said no more.  But 
112:117,19['  ]| the remembrance of the appeal remained a pleasure to 
112:117,20['  ]| her ~~ 
112:117,20@a   | as a proof of friendship, and of deference for her 
112:117,21@a   | judgment, a great pleasure; and when it became a sort 
112:117,22@a   | of parting proof, its value did not lessen. 
112:117,23['  ]| When the distressing communication at Uppercross 
112:117,24['  ]| was over, and he had seen the father and mother quite 
112:117,25['  ]| as composed as could be hoped, and the daughter all the 
112:117,26['  ]| better for being with them, he announced his intention 
112:117,27['  ]| of returning in the same carriage to Lyme; and when 
112:117,28['  ]| the horses were baited, he was off. 
201:121,01['  ]| The remainder of $PN#A$Anne's time at Uppercross, comprehending 
201:121,02['  ]| only two days, was spent entirely at the mansion-house, 
201:121,03['  ]| and she had the satisfaction of knowing herself 
201:121,04['  ]| extremely useful there, both as an immediate companion, 
201:121,05['  ]| and as assisting in all those arrangements for the future, 
201:121,06['  ]| which, in $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove's distressed state of 
201:121,07['  ]| spirits, would have been difficulties. 
201:121,08['  ]| They had an early account from Lyme the next morning. 
201:121,09['  ]| $PN#M$Louisa was much the same.  No symptoms worse than 
201:121,10['  ]| before had appeared.  $PN#O$Charles came a few hours afterwards, 
201:121,11['  ]| to bring a later and more particular account.  He 
201:121:12['  ]| was tolerably cheerful. 
201:121,12@o   | A speedy cure must not be hoped, 
201:121,13@o   | but every*thing was going on as well as the nature of the 
201:121,14@o   | case admitted. 
201:121,14['  ]| In speaking of the $PN#J1$Harvilles, he seemed 
201:121,15['  ]| unable to satisfy his own sense of their kindness, especially 
201:121,16['  ]| of $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville's exertions as a nurse. 
201:121,17[O  ]| "She really left 
201:121,18[O  ]| nothing for $PN#P$Mary to do.  He and $PN#P$Mary had been persuaded 
201:121,19[O  ]| to go early to their inn last night.  $PN#P$Mary had been hysterical 
201:121,20[O  ]| again this morning.  When he came away, she was 
201:121,21[O  ]| going to walk out with $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, which, he hoped, 
201:121,22[O  ]| would do her good.  He almost wished she had been 
201:121,23[O  ]| prevailed on to come home the day before; but the 
201:121,24[O  ]| truth was, that $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville left nothing for any*body 
201:121,25[O  ]| to do." 
201:121,26['  ]| $PN#O$Charles was to return to Lyme the same afternoon, and 
201:121,27['  ]| his father had at first half a mind to go with him, but 
201:121,28['  ]| the ladies could not consent.  It would be going only to 
201:121,29['  ]| multiply trouble to the others, and increase his own 
201:121,30['  ]| distress; and a much better scheme followed and was 
201:121,31['  ]| acted upon.  A chaise was sent for from Crewkherne, and 
201:122,01['  ]| $PN#O$Charles conveyed back a far more useful person in the 
201:122,02['  ]| old nursery-maid of the family, one who having brought 
201:122,03['  ]| up all the children, and seen the very last, the lingering 
201:122,04['  ]| and long-petted master $PN#N1$Harry, sent to school after his 
201:122,05['  ]| brothers, was now living in her deserted nursery to mend 
201:122,06['  ]| stockings, and dress all the blains and bruises she could 
201:122,07['  ]| get near her, and who, consequently, was only too happy 
201:122,08['  ]| in being allowed to go and help nurse dear $PN#M$Miss*Louisa. 
201:122,09['  ]| Vague wishes of getting $PN#ZZD$Sarah thither, had occurred before 
201:122,10['  ]| to $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove and $PN#R$Henrietta; but without $PN#A$Anne, it 
201:122,11['  ]| would hardly have been resolved on, and found practicable 
201:122,12['  ]| so soon. 
201:122,13['  ]| They were indebted, the next day, to $PN#L$Charles*Hayter 
201:122,14['  ]| for all the minute knowledge of $PN#M$Louisa, which it was so 
201:122,15['  ]| essential to obtain every twenty-four hours.  He made 
201:122,16['  ]| it his business to go to Lyme, and his account was still 
201:122,17['  ]| encouraging.  The intervals of sense and consciousness 
201:122,18['  ]| were believed to be stronger.  Every report agreed in 
201:122,19['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's appearing fixed in Lyme. 
201:122,20['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was to leave them on the morrow, an event which 
201:122,21['  ]| they all dreaded. 
201:122,21[Y  ]| "What should they do without her? 
201:122,22[Y  ]| They were wretched comforters for one another!" 
201:122,22['  ]| And 
201:122,23['  ]| so much was said in this way, that $PN#A$Anne thought she 
201:122,24['  ]| could not do better than impart among them the general 
201:122,25['  ]| inclination to which she was privy, and persuade them 
201:122,26['  ]| all to go to Lyme at once.  She had little difficulty; it 
201:122,27['  ]| was soon determined that 
201:122,27@y   | they would go, go to-morrow, 
201:122,28@y   | fix themselves at the inn, or get into lodgings, as it suited, 
201:122,29@y   | and there remain till dear $PN#M$Louisa could be moved.  They 
201:122,30@y   | must be taking off some trouble from the good people she 
201:122,31@y   | was with; they might at least relieve $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville from 
201:122,32@y   | the care of her own children; 
201:122,32['  ]| and in short they were so 
201:122,33['  ]| happy in the decision, that $PN#A$Anne was delighted with what 
201:122,34['  ]| she had done, and felt that she could not spend her last 
201:122,35['  ]| morning at Uppercross better than in assisting their preparations, 
201:122,36['  ]| and sending them off at an early hour, though 
201:122,37['  ]| her being left to the solitary range of the house was the 
201:122,38['  ]| consequence. 
201:123,01@a   | She was the last, excepting the little boys at the cottage, 
201:123,02@a   | she was the very last, the only remaining one of all that 
201:123,03@a   | had filled and animated both houses, of all that had given 
201:123,04@a   | Uppercross its cheerful character.  A few days had made 
201:123,05@a   | a change indeed! 
201:123,06@a   | If $PN#M$Louisa recovered, it would all be well again.  More 
201:123,07@a   | than former happiness would be restored.  There could 
201:123,08@a   | not be a doubt, 
201:123,08['  ]| to her mind there was none, 
201:123,08@a   | of what 
201:123,09@a   | would follow her recovery.  A few months hence, and the 
201:123,10@a   | room now so deserted, occupied but by her silent, pensive 
201:123,11@a   | self, might be filled again with all that was happy and 
201:123,12@a   | gay, all that was glowing and bright in prosperous love, 
201:123,13@a   | all that$6#1 was most unlike $PN#A$Anne*Elliot! 
201:123,14['  ]| An hour's complete leisure for such reflections as these, 
201:123,15['  ]| on a dark November day, a small thick rain almost 
201:123,16['  ]| blotting out the very few objects ever to be discerned 
201:123,17['  ]| from the windows, was enough to make the sound of 
201:123,18['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell's carriage exceedingly welcome; and yet, 
201:123,19['  ]| though desirous to be gone, she could not quit the 
201:123,20['  ]| mansion-house, or look an adieu to the cottage, with its 
201:123,21['  ]| black, dripping, and comfortless veranda, or even notice 
201:123,22['  ]| through the misty glasses the last humble tenements of 
201:123,23['  ]| the village, without a saddened heart. ~~ 
201:123,23@a   | Scenes had passed 
201:123,24@a   | in Uppercross, which made it precious.  It stood the 
201:123,25@a   | record of many sensations of pain, once severe, but now 
201:123,26@a   | softened; and of some instances of relenting feeling, some 
201:123,27@a   | breathings of friendship and reconciliation, which could 
201:123,28@a   | never be looked for again, and which could never cease 
201:123,29@a   | to be dear. 
201:123,29['  ]| She left it all behind her; all but the recollection 
201:123,30['  ]| that such things had been. 
201:123,31['  ]| $PN#A$Anne had never entered Kellynch since her quitting 
201:123,32['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell's house, in September.  It had not been 
201:123,33['  ]| necessary, and the few occasions of its being possible for 
201:123,34['  ]| her to go to the hall she had contrived to evade and 
201:123,35['  ]| escape from.  Her first return, was to resume her place 
201:123,36['  ]| in the modern and elegant apartments of the lodge, and 
201:123,37['  ]| to gladden the eyes of its mistress. 
201:123,38['  ]| There was some anxiety mixed with $PN#K$Lady*Russell's joy 
201:124,01['  ]| in meeting her.  She knew who had been frequenting 
201:124,02['  ]| Uppercross.  But happily, either $PN#A$Anne was improved in 
201:124,03['  ]| plumpness and looks, or $PN#K$Lady*Russell fancied her so; 
201:124,04['  ]| and $PN#A$Anne, in receiving her compliments on the occasion, 
201:124,05['  ]| had the amusement of connecting them with the silent 
201:124,06['  ]| admiration of her cousin, and of hoping that she was to 
201:124,07['  ]| be blessed with a second spring of youth and beauty. 
201:124,08['  ]| When they came to converse, she was soon sensible of 
201:124,09['  ]| some mental change.  The subjects of which her heart 
201:124,10['  ]| had been full on leaving Kellynch, and which she had 
201:124,11['  ]| felt slighted, and been compelled to smother among the 
201:124,12['  ]| $PN#W1$Musgroves, were now become but of secondary interest. 
201:124,13['  ]| She had lately lost sight even of her father and sister 
201:124,14['  ]| and Bath.  Their concerns had been sunk under those of 
201:124,15['  ]| Uppercross, and when $PN#K$Lady*Russell reverted to their 
201:124,16['  ]| former hopes and fears, and spoke her satisfaction in the 
201:124,17['  ]| house in Camden-place, which had been taken, and her 
201:124,18['  ]| regret that $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay should still be with them, $PN#A$Anne 
201:124,19['  ]| would have been ashamed to have it known, how much 
201:124,20['  ]| more she was thinking of Lyme, and $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove, 
201:124,21['  ]| and all her acquaintance there; how much more interesting 
201:124,22['  ]| to her was the home and the friendship of the $PN#J1$Harvilles 
201:124,23['  ]| and $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, than her own father's house in 
201:124,24['  ]| Camden-place, or her own sister's intimacy with $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay. 
201:124,25['  ]| She was actually forced to exert herself, to meet $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
201:124,26['  ]| with anything like the appearance of equal 
201:124,27['  ]| solicitude, on topics which had by nature the first claim 
201:124,28['  ]| on her. 
201:124,29['  ]| There was a little awkwardness at first in their discourse 
201:124,30['  ]| on another subject.  They must speak of the accident at 
201:124,31['  ]| Lyme.  $PN#K$Lady*Russell had not been arrived five minutes 
201:124,32['  ]| the day before, when a full account of the whole had 
201:124,33['  ]| burst on her; but still it must be talked of, she must 
201:124,34['  ]| make enquiries, she must regret the imprudence, lament 
201:124,35['  ]| the result, and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's name must be mentioned 
201:124,36['  ]| by both.  $PN#A$Anne was conscious of not doing it so 
201:124,37['  ]| well as $PN#K$Lady*Russell.  She could not speak the name, 
201:124,38['  ]| and look straight forward to $PN#K$Lady*Russell's eye, till she 
201:125,01['  ]| had adopted the expedient of telling her briefly what 
201:125,02['  ]| she thought of the attachment between him and $PN#M$Louisa. 
201:125,03['  ]| When this was told, his name distressed her no longer. 
201:125,04['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell had only to listen composedly, and wish 
201:125,05['  ]| them happy; but internally her heart revelled in angry 
201:125,06['  ]| pleasure, in pleased contempt, that 
201:125,06@k   | the man who at 
201:125,07@k   | twenty-three had seemed to understand somewhat of the 
201:125,08@k   | value of an $PN#A$Anne*Elliot, should, eight years afterwards, 
201:125,09@k   | be charmed by a $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove. 
201:125,10['  ]| The first three or four days passed most quietly, with 
201:125,11['  ]| no circumstance to mark them excepting the receipt of 
201:125,12['  ]| a note or two from Lyme, which found their way to 
201:125,13['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, she could not tell how, and brought a rather 
201:125,14['  ]| improving account of $PN#M$Louisa.  At the end of that period, 
201:125,15['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell's politeness could repose no longer, and the 
201:125,16['  ]| fainter self-threatenings of the past, became in a decided 
201:125,17['  ]| tone, 
201:125,17[K  ]| "I must call on $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft; I really must call upon 
201:125,18[K  ]| her soon.  $PN#A$Anne, have you courage to go with me, and 
201:125,19[K  ]| pay a visit in that house?  It will be some trial to us both." 
201:125,20['  ]| $PN#A$Anne did not shrink from it; on the contrary, she 
201:125,21['  ]| truly felt as she said, in observing, 
201:125,22[A  ]| "I think you are very likely to suffer the most of the 
201:125,23[A  ]| two; your feelings are less reconciled to the change than 
201:125,24[A  ]| mine.  By remaining in the neighbourhood, I am become 
201:125,25[A  ]| inured to it." 
201:125,26['  ]| She could have said more on the subject; for she had 
201:125,27['  ]| in fact so high an opinion of the $PN#D1$Crofts, and considered 
201:125,28['  ]| her father so very fortunate in his tenants, felt the parish 
201:125,29['  ]| to be so sure of a good example, and the poor of the best 
201:125,30['  ]| attention and relief, that however sorry and ashamed for 
201:125,31['  ]| the necessity of the removal, she could not but in conscience 
201:125,32['  ]| feel that they were gone who deserved not to 
201:125,33['  ]| stay, and that Kellynch-hall had passed into better hands 
201:125,34['  ]| than its owners'.  These convictions must unquestionably 
201:125,35['  ]| have their own pain, and severe was its kind; but they 
201:125,36['  ]| precluded that pain which $PN#K$Lady*Russell would suffer in 
201:125,37['  ]| entering the house again, and returning through the well-known 
201:125,38['  ]| apartments. 
201:126,01['  ]| In such moments $PN#A$Anne had no power of saying to 
201:126,02['  ]| herself, "These rooms ought to belong only to us.  Oh, 
201:126,03['  ]| how fallen in their destination!  How unworthily occupied! 
201:126,04['  ]| An ancient family to be so driven away!  Strangers 
201:126,05['  ]| filling their place!"  No, except when she thought of her 
201:126,06['  ]| mother, and remembered where she had been used to sit 
201:126,07['  ]| and preside, she had no sigh of that description to 
201:126,08['  ]| heave. 
201:126,09['  ]| $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft always met her with a kindness which gave 
201:126,10['  ]| her the pleasure of fancying herself a favourite; and on 
201:126,11['  ]| the present occasion, receiving her in that house, there 
201:126,12['  ]| was particular attention. 
201:126,13['  ]| The sad accident at Lyme was soon the prevailing 
201:126,14['  ]| topic; and on comparing their latest accounts of the 
201:126,15['  ]| invalid, it appeared that each lady dated her intelligence 
201:126,16['  ]| from the same hour of yester*morn, that $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
201:126,17['  ]| had been in Kellynch yesterday ~~ (the first time 
201:126,18['  ]| since the accident) had brought $PN#A$Anne the last note, which 
201:126,19['  ]| she had not been able to trace the exact steps of, had 
201:126,20['  ]| staid a few hours and then returned again to Lyme ~~ and 
201:126,21['  ]| without any present intention of quitting it any more. ~~ 
201:126,22['  ]| He had enquired after her, she found, particularly; ~~ had 
201:126,23['  ]| expressed his hope of $PN#A$Miss*Elliot's not being the worse 
201:126,24['  ]| for her exertions, and had spoken of those exertions as 
201:126,25['  ]| great. ~~ This was handsome, ~~ and gave her more pleasure 
201:126,26['  ]| than almost any*thing else could have done. 
201:126,27['  ]| As to the sad catastrophe itself, it could be canvassed 
201:126,28['  ]| only in one style by a couple of steady, sensible women, 
201:126,29['  ]| whose judgments had to work on ascertained events; 
201:126,30['  ]| and it was perfectly decided that 
201:126,30@y   | it had been the consequence 
201:126,31@y   | of much thoughtlessness and much imprudence; 
201:126,32@y   | that its effects were most alarming, and that it was 
201:126,33@y   | frightful to think, how long $PN#M$Miss*Musgrove's recovery 
201:126,34@y   | might yet be doubtful, and how liable she would still 
201:126,35@y   | remain to suffer from the concussion hereafter! ~~ 
201:126,35['  ]| The 
201:126,36['  ]| $PN#D$Admiral wound$1#1$ it all up summarily by exclaiming, 
201:126,37[D  ]| "Ay, a very bad business indeed. ~~ A new sort of way 
201:126,38[D  ]| this, for a young fellow to be making love, by breaking 
201:127,01[D  ]| his mistress's head! ~~ is not it, $PN#A$Miss*Elliot? ~~ This is 
201:127,02[D  ]| breaking a head and giving a plaister truly!" 
201:127,03['  ]| $PN#D$Admiral*Croft's manners were not quite of the tone to 
201:127,04['  ]| suit $PN#K$Lady*Russell, but they delighted $PN#A$Anne.  His goodness 
201:127,05['  ]| of heart and simplicity of character were irresistible. 
201:127,06[D  ]| "Now, this must be very bad for you," 
201:127,06['  ]| said he, suddenly 
201:127,07['  ]| rousing from a little reverie, 
201:127,07[D  ]| "to be coming and 
201:127,08[D  ]| finding us here. ~~ I had not recollected it before, I declare, 
201:127,09[D  ]| ~~ but it must be very bad. ~~ But now, do not stand upon 
201:127,10[D  ]| ceremony. ~~ Get up and go over all the rooms in the 
201:127,11[D  ]| house if you like it." 
201:127,12[A  ]| "Another time, Sir, I thank you, not now." 
201:127,13[D  ]| "Well, whenever it suits you. ~~ You can slip in from 
201:127,14[D  ]| the shrubbery at any time.  And there you will find we 
201:127,15[D  ]| keep our umbrellas, hanging up by that door.  A good 
201:127,16[D  ]| place, is not it?  But" 
201:127,16['  ]| (checking himself) 
201:127,16[D  ]| "you will not 
201:127,17[D  ]| think it a good place, for yours were always kept in the 
201:127,18[D  ]| butler's room.  Ay, so it always is, I believe.  One man's 
201:127,19[D  ]| ways may be as good as another's, but we all like our 
201:127,20[D  ]| own best.  And so you must judge for yourself, whether 
201:127,21[D  ]| it would be better for you to go about the house or not." 
201:127,22['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, finding she might decline it, did so, very gratefully. 
201:127,23['  ]| 
201:127,24[D  ]| "We have made very few changes either!" 
201:127,24['  ]| continued 
201:127,25['  ]| the $PN#D$Admiral, after thinking a moment. 
201:127,25[D  ]| "Very few. ~~ We 
201:127,26[D  ]| told you about the laundry-door, at Uppercross.  That 
201:127,27[D  ]| has been a very great improvement.  The wonder was, 
201:127,28[D  ]| how any family upon earth could bear with the inconvenience 
201:127,29[D  ]| of its opening as it did, so long! ~~ You will tell 
201:127,30[D  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter what we have done, and that $PN#Q$Mr%*Shepherd 
201:127,31[D  ]| thinks it the greatest improvement the house ever had. 
201:127,32[D  ]| Indeed, I must do ourselves the justice to say, that the 
201:127,33[D  ]| few alterations we have made have been all very much 
201:127,34[D  ]| for the better.  My wife should have the credit of them, 
201:127,35[D  ]| however.  I have done very little besides sending away 
201:127,36[D  ]| some of the large looking-glasses from my dressing-room, 
201:127,37[D  ]| which was your father's.  A very good man, and very 
201:127,38[D  ]| much the gentleman I am sure ~~ but I should think, $PN#A$Miss*Elliot" 
201:128,01['  ]| (looking with serious reflection) 
201:128,01[D  ]| "I should think 
201:128,02[D  ]| he must be rather a dressy man for his time of life. ~~ 
201:128,03[D  ]| Such a number of looking-glasses! oh Lord! there was 
201:128,04[D  ]| no getting away from oneself.  So I got $PN#E$Sophy to lend 
201:128,05[D  ]| me a hand, and we soon shifted their quarters; and now 
201:128,06[D  ]| I am quite snug, with my little shaving*glass in one 
201:128,07[D  ]| corner, and another great thing that I never go near." 
201:128,08['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, amused in spite of herself, was rather distressed 
201:128,09['  ]| for an answer, and the $PN#D$Admiral, fearing he might not 
201:128,10['  ]| have been civil enough, took up the subject again, to say, 
201:128,11[D  ]| "The next time you write to your good father, $PN#A$Miss*Elliot, 
201:128,12[D  ]| pray give my compliments and $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft's, and 
201:128,13[D  ]| say that we are settled here quite to our liking, and have 
201:128,14[D  ]| no fault at all to find with the place.  The breakfast-room 
201:128,15[D  ]| chimney smokes a little, I grant you, but it is only 
201:128,16[D  ]| when the wind is due north and blows hard, which may 
201:128,17[D  ]| not happen three times a winter.  And take it altogether, 
201:128,18[D  ]| now that we have been into most of the houses hereabouts 
201:128,19[D  ]| and can judge, there is not one that we like better 
201:128,20[D  ]| than this.  Pray say so, with my compliments.  He will 
201:128,21[D  ]| be glad to hear it." 
201:128,22['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell and $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft were very well pleased 
201:128,23['  ]| with each other; but the acquaintance which this visit 
201:128,24['  ]| began, was fated not to proceed far at present; for when 
201:128,25['  ]| it was returned, the $PN#D1$Crofts announced themselves to be 
201:128,26['  ]| going away for a few weeks, to visit their connexions in 
201:128,27['  ]| the north of the county, and probably might not be at 
201:128,28['  ]| home again before $PN#K$Lady*Russell would be removing to 
201:128,29['  ]| Bath. 
201:128,30['  ]| So ended all danger to $PN#A$Anne of meeting $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
201:128,31['  ]| at Kellynch-hall, or of seeing him in company with 
201:128,32['  ]| her friend.  Every*thing was safe enough, and she smiled 
201:128,33['  ]| over the many anxious feelings she had wasted on the 
201:128,34['  ]| subject. 
202:129,01['  ]| Though $PN#O$Charles and $PN#P$Mary had remained at Lyme much 
202:129,02['  ]| longer after $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove's going, than $PN#A$Anne 
202:129,03['  ]| conceived they could have been at all wanted, they were 
202:129,04['  ]| yet the first of the family to be at home again, and as 
202:129,05['  ]| soon as possible after their return to Uppercross, they 
202:129,06['  ]| drove over to the lodge. ~~ They had left $PN#M$Louisa beginning 
202:129,07['  ]| to sit up; but her head, though clear, was exceedingly 
202:129,08['  ]| weak, and her nerves susceptible to the highest extreme 
202:129,09['  ]| of tenderness; and though she might be pronounced to 
202:129,10['  ]| be altogether doing very well, it was still impossible to 
202:129,11['  ]| say when she might be able to bear the removal home; 
202:129,12['  ]| and her father and mother, who must return in time to 
202:129,13['  ]| receive their younger children for the Christmas holidays, 
202:129,14['  ]| had hardly a hope of being allowed to bring her with 
202:129,15['  ]| them. 
202:129,16['  ]| They had been all in lodgings together.  $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove 
202:129,17['  ]| had got $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville's children away as much as she 
202:129,18['  ]| could, every possible supply from Uppercross had been 
202:129,19['  ]| furnished, to lighten the inconvenience to the $PN#J1$Harvilles, 
202:129,20['  ]| while the $PN#J1$Harvilles had been wanting them to come to 
202:129,21['  ]| dinner every day; and in short, it seemed to have been 
202:129,22['  ]| only a struggle on each side as to which should be most 
202:129,23['  ]| disinterested and hospitable. 
202:129,24['  ]| $PN#P$Mary had had her evils; but upon the whole, as was 
202:129,25['  ]| evident by her staying so long, she had found more to 
202:129,26['  ]| enjoy than to suffer. ~~ 
202:129,26@p   | $PN#L$Charles*Hayter had been at Lyme 
202:129,27@p   | oftener than suited her, and when they dined with the 
202:129,28@p   | $PN#J1$Harvilles there had been only a maid-servant to wait, 
202:129,29@p   | and at first, $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville had always given $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove 
202:129,30@p   | precedence; but then, she had received so very handsome 
202:129,31@p   | an apology from her on finding out whose daughter 
202:129,32@p   | she was, and there had been so much going on every day, 
202:129,33@p   | there had been so many walks between their lodgings 
202:130,01@p   | and the $PN#J1$Harvilles, and she had got books from the library 
202:130,02@p   | and changed them so often, that the balance had certainly 
202:130,03@p   | been much in favour of Lyme.  She had been taken to 
202:130,04@p   | Charmouth too, and she had bathed, and she had gone 
202:130,05@p   | to church, and there were a great many more people to 
202:130,06@p   | look at in the church at Lyme than at Uppercross, ~~ and 
202:130,07@p   | all this, joined to the sense of being so very useful, had 
202:130,08@p   | made really an agreeable fortnight. 
202:130,09['  ]| $PN#A$Anne enquired after $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick.  $PN#P$Mary's face was 
202:130,10['  ]| clouded directly.  $PN#O$Charles laughed. 
202:130,11[P  ]| "Oh!  $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick is very well, I believe, but he 
202:130,12[P  ]| is a very odd young man.  I do not know what he would 
202:130,13[P  ]| be at.  We asked him to come home with us for a day 
202:130,14[P  ]| or two; $PN#O$Charles undertook to give him some shooting, 
202:130,15[P  ]| and he seemed quite delighted, and for my part, I thought 
202:130,16[P  ]| it was all settled; when behold! on Tuesday night, he 
202:130,17[P  ]| made a very awkward sort of excuse; 
202:130,17@w   | ""he never shot"" 
202:130,18[P  ]| and he had 
202:130,18@w   | ""been quite misunderstood,"" ~~ 
202:130,18[P  ]| and he had 
202:130,19[P  ]| promised this and he had promised that, and the end of 
202:130,20[P  ]| it was, I found, that he did not mean to come.  I suppose 
202:130,21[P  ]| he was afraid of finding it dull; but upon my word 
202:130,22[P  ]| I should have thought we were lively enough at the 
202:130,23[P  ]| Cottage for such a heart-broken man as $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick." 
202:130,24[P  ]| 
202:130,25['  ]| $PN#O$Charles laughed again and said, 
202:130,25[O  ]| "Now $PN#P$Mary, you know 
202:130,26[O  ]| very well how it really was. ~~ It was all your doing," 
202:130,27['  ]| (turning to $PN#A$Anne). 
202:130,27[O  ]| "He fancied that if he went with us, 
202:130,28[O  ]| he should find you close by; he fancied every*body to 
202:130,29[O  ]| be living in Uppercross; and when he discovered that 
202:130,30[O  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell lived three miles off, his heart failed him, 
202:130,31[O  ]| and he had not courage to come.  That is the fact, upon 
202:130,32[O  ]| my honour.  $PN#P$Mary knows it is." 
202:130,33['  ]| But $PN#P$Mary did not give into it very graciously; whether 
202:130,34['  ]| from not considering $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick entitled by birth 
202:130,35['  ]| and situation to be in love with an $PN#G1$Elliot, or from not 
202:130,36['  ]| wanting to believe $PN#A$Anne a greater attraction to Uppercross 
202:130,37['  ]| than herself, must be left to be guessed.  $PN#A$Anne's 
202:130,38['  ]| good-will, however, was not to be lessened by what she 
202:131,01['  ]| heard.  She boldly acknowledged herself flattered, and 
202:131,02['  ]| continued her enquiries. 
202:131,03[O  ]| "Oh! he talks of you," 
202:131,03['  ]| cried $PN#O$Charles, 
202:131,03[O  ]| "in such 
202:131,04[O  ]| terms," ~~ 
202:131,04['  ]| $PN#P$Mary interrupted him. 
202:131,04[P  ]| "I declare, $PN#O$Charles, 
202:131,05[P  ]| I never heard him mention $PN#A$Anne twice all the time 
202:131,06[P  ]| I was there.  I declare, $PN#A$Anne, he never talks of you 
202:131,07[P  ]| at all." 
202:131,08[O  ]| "No," 
202:131,08['  ]| admitted $PN#O$Charles, 
202:131,08[O  ]| "I do not know that he ever 
202:131,09[O  ]| does, in a general way ~~ but however, it is a very clear 
202:131,10[O  ]| thing that he admires you exceedingly. ~~ His head is full 
202:131,11[O  ]| of some books that he is reading upon your recommendation, 
202:131,12[O  ]| and he wants to talk to you about them; he has 
202:131,13[O  ]| found out something or other in one of them which he 
202:131,14[O  ]| thinks ~~ Oh!  I cannot pretend to remember it, but it 
202:131,15[O  ]| was something very fine ~~ I overheard him telling $PN#R$Henrietta 
202:131,16[O  ]| all about it ~~ and then 
202:131,16@w   | ""$PN#A$Miss*Elliot"" 
202:131,16[O  ]| was spoken of 
202:131,17[O  ]| in the highest terms! ~~ Now $PN#P$Mary, I declare it was so, 
202:131,18[O  ]| I heard it myself, and you were in the other room. ~~ 
202:131,19@w   | ""Elegance, sweetness, beauty,"" 
202:131,19[O  ]| Oh! there was no end 
202:131,20[O  ]| of $PN#A$Miss*Elliot's charms." 
202:131,21[P  ]| "And I am sure," 
202:131,21['  ]| cried $PN#P$Mary warmly, 
202:131,21[P  ]| "it was very 
202:131,22[P  ]| little to his credit, if he did.  $PN#ZO$Miss*Harville only died last 
202:131,23[P  ]| June.  Such a heart is very little worth having; is it, 
202:131,24[P  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell?  I am sure you will agree with me." 
202:131,25[K  ]| "I must see $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick before I decide," 
202:131,25['  ]| said 
202:131,26['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell, smiling. 
202:131,27[O  ]| "And that you are very likely to do very soon, I can 
202:131,28[O  ]| tell you, ma'am," 
202:131,28['  ]| said $PN#O$Charles. 
202:131,28[O  ]| "Though he had not 
202:131,29[O  ]| nerves for coming away with us and setting off again 
202:131,30[O  ]| afterwards to pay a formal visit here, he will make his 
202:131,31[O  ]| way over to Kellynch one day by himself, you may 
202:131,32[O  ]| depend on it.  I told him the distance and the road, and 
202:131,33[O  ]| I told him of the church's being so very well worth seeing, 
202:131,34[O  ]| for as he has a taste for those sort of things, I thought 
202:131,35[O  ]| that would be a good excuse, and he listened with all his 
202:131,36[O  ]| understanding and soul; and I am sure from his manner 
202:131,37[O  ]| that you will have him calling here soon.  So, I give you 
202:131,38[O  ]| notice, $PN#K$Lady*Russell." 
202:132,01[K  ]| "Any acquaintance of $PN#A$Anne's will always be welcome 
202:132,02[K  ]| to me," 
202:132,02['  ]| was $PN#K$Lady*Russell's kind answer. 
202:132,03[P  ]| "Oh! as to being $PN#A$Anne's acquaintance," 
202:132,03['  ]| said $PN#P$Mary, 
202:132,04[P  ]| "I think he is rather my acquaintance, for I have been 
202:132,05[P  ]| seeing him every day this last fortnight." 
202:132,06[K  ]| "Well, as your joint acquaintance, then, I shall be 
202:132,07[K  ]| very happy to see $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick." 
202:132,08[P  ]| "You will not find any*thing very agreeable in him, 
202:132,09[P  ]| I assure you, ma'am.  He is one of the dullest young 
202:132,10[P  ]| men that ever lived.  He has walked with me, sometimes, 
202:132,11[P  ]| from one end of the sands to the other, without saying 
202:132,12[P  ]| a word.  He is not at all a well-bred young man.  I am 
202:132,13[P  ]| sure you will not like him." 
202:132,14[A  ]| "There we differ, $PN#P$Mary," 
202:132,14['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne. 
202:132,14[A  ]| "I think $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
202:132,15[A  ]| would like him.  I think she would be so much 
202:132,16[A  ]| pleased with his mind, that she would very soon see no 
202:132,17[A  ]| deficiency in his manner." 
202:132,18[O  ]| "So do I, $PN#A$Anne," 
202:132,18['  ]| said $PN#O$Charles. 
202:132,18[O  ]| "I am sure $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
202:132,19[O  ]| would like him.  He is just $PN#K$Lady*Russell's sort. 
202:132,20[O  ]| Give him a book, and he will read all day long." 
202:132,21[P  ]| "Yes, that he will!" 
202:132,21['  ]| exclaimed $PN#P$Mary, tauntingly. 
202:132,22[P  ]| "He will sit poring over his book, and not know when 
202:132,23[P  ]| a person speaks to him, or when one drops one's scissors, 
202:132,24[P  ]| or any*thing that happens.  Do you think $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
202:132,25[P  ]| would like that?" 
202:132,26['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell could not help laughing. 
202:132,26[K  ]| "Upon my 
202:132,27[K  ]| word," 
202:132,27['  ]| said she, 
202:132,27[K  ]| "I should not have supposed that my 
202:132,28[K  ]| opinion of any*one could have admitted of such difference 
202:132,29[K  ]| of conjecture, steady and matter of fact as I may call 
202:132,30[K  ]| myself.  I have really a curiosity to see the person who 
202:132,31[K  ]| can give occasion to such directly opposite notions.  I wish 
202:132,32[K  ]| he may be induced to call here.  And when he does, 
202:132,33[K  ]| $PN#P$Mary, you may depend upon hearing my opinion; but 
202:132,34[K  ]| I am determined not to judge him before-hand." 
202:132,35[P  ]| "You will not like him, I will answer for it." 
202:132,36['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell began talking of something else.  $PN#P$Mary 
202:132,37['  ]| spoke with animation of their meeting with, or rather 
202:132,38['  ]| missing, $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot so extraordinarily. 
202:133,01[K  ]| "He is a man," 
202:133,01['  ]| said $PN#K$Lady*Russell, 
202:133,01[K  ]| "whom I have no 
202:133,02[K  ]| wish to see.  His declining to be on cordial terms with 
202:133,03[K  ]| the head of his family, has left a very strong impression 
202:133,04[K  ]| in his disfavour with me." 
202:133,05['  ]| This decision checked $PN#P$Mary's eagerness, and stopped 
202:133,06['  ]| her short in the midst of the $PN#G1$Elliot countenance. 
202:133,07['  ]| With regard to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, though $PN#A$Anne 
202:133,08['  ]| hazarded no enquiries, there was voluntary communication 
202:133,09['  ]| sufficient. 
202:133,09@y   | His spirits had been greatly recovering 
202:133,10@y   | lately, as might be expected.  As $PN#M$Louisa improved, he 
202:133,11@y   | had improved; and he was now quite a different creature 
202:133,12@y   | from what he had been the first week.  He had not seen 
202:133,13@y   | $PN#M$Louisa; and was so extremely fearful of any ill consequence 
202:133,14@y   | to her from an interview, that he did not press 
202:133,15@y   | for it at all; and, on the contrary, seemed to have a plan 
202:133,16@y   | of going away for a week or ten days, till her head were 
202:133,17@y   | stronger.  He had talked of going down to Plymouth for 
202:133,18@y   | a week, and wanted to persuade $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick to go 
202:133,19@y   | with him; 
202:133,19@o   | but, 
202:133,19['  ]| as $PN#O$Charles maintained to the last, 
202:133,19@o   | $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick 
202:133,20@o   | seemed much more disposed to ride over to 
202:133,21@o   | Kellynch. 
202:133,22['  ]| There can be no doubt that $PN#K$Lady*Russell and $PN#A$Anne 
202:133,23['  ]| were both occasionally thinking of $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, from 
202:133,24['  ]| this time.  $PN#K$Lady*Russell could not hear the door-bell 
202:133,25['  ]| without feeling that it might be his herald; nor could 
202:133,26['  ]| $PN#A$Anne return from any stroll of solitary indulgence in her 
202:133,27['  ]| father's grounds, or any visit of charity in the village, 
202:133,28['  ]| without wondering whether she might see him or hear of 
202:133,29['  ]| him.  $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick came not, however.  He was 
202:133,30['  ]| either less disposed for it than $PN#O$Charles had imagined, or 
202:133,31['  ]| he was too shy; and after giving him a week's indulgence, 
202:133,32['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell determined him to be unworthy of the 
202:133,33['  ]| interest which he had been beginning to excite. 
202:133,34['  ]| The $PN#W1$Musgroves came back to receive their happy boys 
202:133,35['  ]| and girls from school, bringing with them $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville's 
202:133,36['  ]| little children, to improve the noise of Uppercross, and 
202:133,37['  ]| lessen that of Lyme.  $PN#R$Henrietta remained with $PN#M$Louisa; but 
202:133,38['  ]| all the rest of the family were again in their usual quarters. 
202:134,01['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell and $PN#A$Anne paid their compliments to them 
202:134,02['  ]| once, when $PN#A$Anne could not but feel that Uppercross was 
202:134,03['  ]| already quite alive again.  Though neither $PN#R$Henrietta, nor 
202:134,04['  ]| $PN#M$Louisa, nor $PN#L$Charles*Hayter, nor $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth were 
202:134,05['  ]| there, the room presented as strong a contrast as could 
202:134,06['  ]| be wished, to the last state she had seen it in. 
202:134,07['  ]| Immediately surrounding $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove were the little 
202:134,08['  ]| $PN#V1$Harvilles, whom she was sedulously guarding from the 
202:134,09['  ]| tyranny of the two children from the Cottage, expressly 
202:134,10['  ]| arrived to amuse them.  On one side was a table, occupied 
202:134,11['  ]| by some chattering girls, cutting up silk and gold paper; 
202:134,12['  ]| and on the other were tressels and trays, bending under 
202:134,13['  ]| the weight of brawn and cold pies, where riotous boys 
202:134,14['  ]| were holding high revel; the whole completed by a roaring 
202:134,15['  ]| Christmas fire, which seemed determined to be heard, in 
202:134,16['  ]| spite of all the noise of the others.  $PN#O$Charles and $PN#P$Mary 
202:134,17['  ]| also came in, of course, during their visit; and $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove 
202:134,18['  ]| made a point of paying his respects to $PN#K$Lady*Russell, 
202:134,19['  ]| and sat down close to her for ten minutes, talking with 
202:134,20['  ]| a very raised voice, but, from the clamour of the children 
202:134,21['  ]| on her knees, generally in vain.  It was a fine family-piece. 
202:134,22['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, judging from her own temperament, would have 
202:134,23['  ]| deemed such a domestic hurricane a bad restorative of 
202:134,24['  ]| the nerves, which $PN#M$Louisa's illness must have so greatly 
202:134,25['  ]| shaken; but $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, who got $PN#A$Anne near her on 
202:134,26['  ]| purpose to thank her most cordially, again and again, 
202:134,27['  ]| for all her attentions to them, concluded a short recapitulation 
202:134,28['  ]| of what she had suffered herself, by observing, with 
202:134,29['  ]| a happy glance round the room, that 
202:134,29@n   | after all she had 
202:134,30@n   | gone through, nothing was so likely to do her good as 
202:134,31@n   | a little quiet cheerfulness at home. 
202:134,32['  ]| $PN#M$Louisa was now recovering apace.  Her mother could 
202:134,33['  ]| even think of her being able to join their party at home, 
202:134,34['  ]| before her brothers and sisters went to school again.  The 
202:134,35['  ]| $PN#J1$Harvilles had promised to come with her and stay at 
202:134,36['  ]| Uppercross, whenever she returned.  $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
202:134,37['  ]| was gone, for the present, to see his brother in 
202:134,38['  ]| Shropshire. 
202:135,01[K  ]| "I hope I shall remember, in future," 
202:135,01['  ]| said $PN#K$Lady*Russell, 
202:135,02['  ]| as soon as they were reseated in the carriage, 
202:135,03[K  ]| "not to call at Uppercross in the Christmas holidays." 
202:135,04['  ]| Every*body has their taste in noises as well as in other 
202:135,05['  ]| matters; and sounds are quite innoxious, or most distressing, 
202:135,06['  ]| by their sort rather than their quantity.  When 
202:135,07['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell, not long afterwards, was entering Bath on 
202:135,08['  ]| a wet afternoon, and driving through the long course of 
202:135,09['  ]| streets from the Old*Bridge to Camden-place, amidst the 
202:135,10['  ]| dash of other carriages, the heavy rumble of carts and 
202:135,11['  ]| drays, the bawling of newsmen, muffin-men and milk-men, 
202:135,12['  ]| and the ceaseless clink of pattens, she made no 
202:135,13['  ]| complaint.  No, these were noises which belonged to the 
202:135,14['  ]| winter pleasures; her spirits rose under their influence; 
202:135,15['  ]| and, like $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, she was feeling, though not 
202:135,16['  ]| saying, that, 
202:135,16@k   | after being long in the country, nothing 
202:135,17@k   | could be so good for her as a little quiet cheerfulness. 
202:135,18['  ]| $PN#A$Anne did not share these feelings.  She persisted in 
202:135,19['  ]| a very determined, though very silent, disinclination for 
202:135,20['  ]| Bath; caught the first dim view of the extensive buildings, 
202:135,21['  ]| smoking in rain, without any wish of seeing them better; 
202:135,22['  ]| felt their progress through the streets to be, however 
202:135,23['  ]| disagreeable, yet too rapid; for who would be glad to 
202:135,24['  ]| see her when she arrived?  And looked back, with fond 
202:135,25['  ]| regret, to the bustles of Uppercross and the seclusion of 
202:135,26['  ]| Kellynch. 
202:135,27['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth's last letter had communicated a piece of 
202:135,28['  ]| news of some interest. 
202:135,28@h   | $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot was in Bath.  He had 
202:135,29@h   | called in Camden-place; had called a second time, a third; 
202:135,30@h   | had been pointedly attentive:  if $PN#H$Elizabeth and her father 
202:135,31@h   | did not deceive themselves, had been taking as much 
202:135,32@h   | pains to seek the acquaintance, and proclaim the value 
202:135,33@h   | of the connection, as he had formerly taken pains to 
202:135,34@h   | shew neglect. 
202:135,34['  ]| This was very wonderful, if it were true; 
202:135,35['  ]| and $PN#K$Lady*Russell was in a state of very agreeable curiosity 
202:135,36['  ]| and perplexity about $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, already recanting the 
202:135,37['  ]| sentiment she had so lately expressed to $PN#P$Mary, of his 
202:135,38['  ]| being 
202:135,38[K  ]| "a man whom she had no wish to see." 
202:135,38@k   | She had 
202:136,01@k   | a great wish to see him.  If he really sought to reconcile 
202:136,02@k   | himself like a dutiful branch, he must be forgiven for 
202:136,03@k   | having dismembered himself from the paternal tree. 
202:136,04['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was not animated to an equal pitch by the 
202:136,05['  ]| circumstance; but she felt that 
202:136,05@a   | she would rather see 
202:136,06@a   | $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot again than not, which was more than she could 
202:136,07@a   | say for many other persons in Bath. 
202:136,08['  ]| She was put down in Camden-place; and $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
202:136,09['  ]| then drove to her own lodgings, in Rivers-street. 
203:137,01['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter had taken a very good house in Camden-place, 
203:137,02['  ]| a lofty, dignified situation, such as becomes a man 
203:137,03['  ]| of consequence; and both he and $PN#H$Elizabeth were settled 
203:137,04['  ]| there, much to their satisfaction. 
203:137,05['  ]| $PN#A$Anne entered it with a sinking heart, anticipating an 
203:137,06['  ]| imprisonment of many months, and anxiously saying to 
203:137,07['  ]| herself, 
203:137,07@a   | "Oh! when shall I leave you again?" 
203:137,07['  ]| A degree 
203:137,08['  ]| of unexpected cordiality, however, in the welcome she 
203:137,09['  ]| received, did her good.  Her father and sister were glad 
203:137,10['  ]| to see her, for the sake of shewing her the house and 
203:137,11['  ]| furniture, and met her with kindness.  Her making 
203:137,12['  ]| a fourth, when they sat down to dinner, was noticed as 
203:137,13['  ]| an advantage. 
203:137,14['  ]| $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay was very pleasant, and very smiling; but 
203:137,15['  ]| her courtesies and smiles were more a matter of course. 
203:137,16['  ]| $PN#A$Anne had always felt that she would pretend what was 
203:137,17['  ]| proper on her arrival; but the complaisance of the others 
203:137,18['  ]| was unlooked for.  They were evidently in excellent 
203:137,19['  ]| spirits, and she was soon to listen to the causes.  They 
203:137,20['  ]| had no inclination to listen to her.  After laying out for 
203:137,21['  ]| some compliments of being deeply regretted in their old 
203:137,22['  ]| neighbourhood, which $PN#A$Anne could not pay, they had only 
203:137,23['  ]| a few faint enquiries to make, before the talk must be 
203:137,24['  ]| all their own.  Uppercross excited no interest, Kellynch 
203:137,25['  ]| very little, it was all Bath. 
203:137,26['  ]| They had the pleasure of assuring her that 
203:137,27@y   | Bath 
203:137,28@y   | more than answered their expectations in every respect. 
203:137,29@y   | Their house was undoubtedly the best in Camden-place; 
203:137,30@y   | their drawing-rooms had many decided advantages over 
203:137,31@y   | all the others which they had either seen or heard of; 
203:137,32@y   | and the superiority was not less in the style of the fitting-up, 
203:137,33@y   | or the taste of the furniture.  Their acquaintance 
203:137,34@y   | was exceedingly sought after.  Every*body was wanting 
203:138,01@y   | to visit them.  They had drawn back from many introductions, 
203:138,02@y   | and still were perpetually having cards left by 
203:138,03@y   | people of whom they knew nothing. 
203:138,04['  ]| Here were funds of enjoyment!  Could $PN#A$Anne wonder 
203:138,05['  ]| that her father and sister were happy?  She might not 
203:138,06['  ]| wonder, but she must sigh that 
203:138,06@a   | her father should feel no 
203:138,07@a   | degradation in his change; should see nothing to regret 
203:138,08@a   | in the duties and dignity of the resident land-holder; 
203:138,09@a   | should find so much to be vain of in the littlenesses of 
203:138,10@a   | a town; 
203:138,10['  ]| and she must sigh, and smile, and wonder too, 
203:138,11['  ]| as $PN#H$Elizabeth threw open the folding-doors, and walked 
203:138,12['  ]| with exultation from one drawing-room to the other, 
203:138,13['  ]| boasting of their space, at the possibility of that woman, 
203:138,14['  ]| who had been mistress of Kellynch*Hall, finding extent 
203:138,15['  ]| to be proud of between two walls, perhaps thirty feet 
203:138,16['  ]| asunder. 
203:138,17['  ]| But this was not all which they had to make them 
203:138,18['  ]| happy.  They had $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, too.  $PN#A$Anne had a great 
203:138,19['  ]| deal to hear of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  He was not only pardoned, 
203:138,20['  ]| they were delighted with him. 
203:138,20@y   | He had been in Bath 
203:138,21@y   | about a fortnight; (he had passed through Bath in 
203:138,22@y   | November, in his way to London, when the intelligence 
203:138,23@y   | of $PN#G$Sir*Walter's being settled there had of course reached 
203:138,24@y   | him, though only twenty-four hours in the place, but he 
203:138,25@y   | had not been able to avail himself of it):  but he had 
203:138,26@y   | now been a fortnight in Bath, and his first object, on 
203:138,27@y   | arriving, had been to leave his card in Camden-place, 
203:138,28@y   | following it up by such assiduous endeavours to meet, 
203:138,29@y   | and, when they did meet, by such great openness of 
203:138,30@y   | conduct, such readiness to apologize for the past, such 
203:138,31@y   | solicitude to be received as a relation again, that their 
203:138,32@y   | former good understanding was completely re-established. 
203:138,33@y   | They had not a fault to find in him.  He had explained 
203:138,34@y   | away all the appearance of neglect on his own side. 
203:138,34@i   | It 
203:138,35@i   | had originated in misapprehension entirely.  He had never 
203:138,36@i   | had an idea of throwing himself off; he had feared that 
203:138,37@i   | he was thrown off, but knew not why; and delicacy had 
203:138,38@i   | kept him silent. 
203:138,38['  ]| Upon the hint of having spoken disrespectfully 
203:139,01['  ]| or carelessly of the family, and the family 
203:139,02['  ]| honours, he was quite indignant. 
203:139,02@i   | He, who had ever 
203:139,03@i   | boasted of being an $PN#G1$Elliot, and whose feelings, as to 
203:139,04@i   | connection, were only too strict to suit the unfeudal tone 
203:139,05@i   | of the present day!  He was astonished, indeed!  But 
203:139,06@i   | his character and general conduct must refute it.  He 
203:139,07@i   | could refer $PN#G$Sir*Walter to all who knew him; and, 
203:139,07@y   | certainly, 
203:139,08@y   | the pains he had been taking on this, the first 
203:139,09@y   | opportunity of reconciliation, to be restored to the footing 
203:139,10@y   | of a relation and heir-presumptive, was a strong proof of 
203:139,11@y   | his opinions on the subject. 
203:139,12['  ]| The circumstances of his marriage too were found to 
203:139,13['  ]| admit of much extenuation.  This was an article not 
203:139,14['  ]| to be entered on by himself; 
203:139,14@y   | but a very intimate friend 
203:139,15@y   | of his, a $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis, a highly respectable man, perfectly 
203:139,16@y   | the gentleman, 
203:139,16@g   | (and not an ill-looking man, 
203:139,16['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
203:139,17['  ]| added) 
203:139,17@y   | who was living in very good style in 
203:139,18@y   | Marlborough*Buildings, and had, at his own particular 
203:139,19@y   | request, been admitted to their acquaintance through 
203:139,20@y   | $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, had mentioned one or two things relative to 
203:139,21@y   | the marriage, which made a material difference in the 
203:139,22@y   | discredit of it. 
203:139,23@y   | $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis had known $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot long, had been 
203:139,24@y   | well acquainted also with his wife, had perfectly understood 
203:139,25@y   | the whole story.  She was certainly not a woman 
203:139,26@y   | of family, but well educated, accomplished, rich, and 
203:139,27@y   | excessively in love with his friend.  There had been the 
203:139,28@y   | charm.  She had sought him.  Without that attraction, 
203:139,29@y   | not all her money would have tempted $PN#I$Elliot, and $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
203:139,30@y   | was, moreover, assured of her having been a very 
203:139,31@y   | fine woman.  Here was a great deal to soften the business. 
203:139,32@y   | A very fine woman, with a large fortune, in love with 
203:139,33@y   | him! 
203:139,33['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter seemed to admit it as complete apology, 
203:139,34['  ]| and though $PN#H$Elizabeth could not see the circumstance in 
203:139,35['  ]| quite so favourable a light, she allowed it be a great 
203:139,36['  ]| extenuation. 
203:139,37@y   | $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot had called repeatedly, had dined with them 
203:139,38@y   | once, evidently delighted by the distinction of being 
203:140,01@y   | asked, for they gave no dinners in general; delighted, 
203:140,02@y   | in short, by every proof of cousinly notice, and placing 
203:140,03@y   | his whole happiness in being on intimate terms in Camden-place. 
203:140,04@y   | 
203:140,05['  ]| $PN#A$Anne listened, but without quite understanding it. 
203:140,06@a   | Allowances, large allowances, 
203:140,06['  ]| she knew, 
203:140,06@a   | must be made 
203:140,07@a   | for the ideas of those who spoke.  She heard it all under 
203:140,08@a   | embellishment.  All that sounded extravagant or irrational 
203:140,09@a   | in the progress of the reconciliation might have no 
203:140,10@a   | origin but in the language of the relators. 
203:140,10['  ]| Still, however, 
203:140,11['  ]| she had the sensation of 
203:140,11@a   | there being something more than 
203:140,12@a   | immediately appeared, in $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's wishing, after an 
203:140,13@a   | interval of so many years, to be well received by them. 
203:140,14@a   | In a worldly view, he had nothing to gain by being on 
203:140,15@a   | terms with $PN#G$Sir*Walter, nothing to risk by a state of 
203:140,16@a   | variance.  In all probability he was already the richer of 
203:140,17@a   | the two, and the Kellynch estate would as surely be his 
203:140,18@a   | hereafter as the title.  A sensible man!  and he had 
203:140,19@a   | looked like a \very\ sensible man, why should it be an 
203:140,20@a   | object to him?  She could only offer one solution; it 
203:140,21@a   | was, perhaps, for $PN#H$Elizabeth's sake.  There might really 
203:140,22@a   | have been a liking formerly, though convenience and 
203:140,23@a   | accident had drawn him a different way, and now that 
203:140,24@a   | he could afford to please himself, he might mean to pay 
203:140,25@a   | his addresses to her.  $PN#H$Elizabeth was certainly very handsome, 
203:140,26@a   | with well-bred, elegant manners, and her character 
203:140,27@a   | might never have been penetrated by $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, knowing 
203:140,28@a   | her but in public, and when very young himself.  How 
203:140,29@a   | her temper and understanding might bear the investigation 
203:140,30@a   | of his present keener time of life was another concern, 
203:140,31@a   | and rather a fearful one.  
203:140,31['  ]| Most earnestly did she 
203:140,32['  ]| wish that 
203:140,32@a   | he might not be too nice, or too observant, if 
203:140,33@a   | $PN#H$Elizabeth were his object; and that $PN#H$Elizabeth was disposed 
203:140,34@a   | to believe herself so, and that her friend $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay 
203:140,35@a   | was encouraging the idea, seemed apparent by a glance 
203:140,36@a   | or two between them, while $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's frequent visits 
203:140,37@a   | were talked of. 
203:140,38['  ]| $PN#A$Anne mentioned the glimpses she had had of him at 
203:141,01['  ]| Lyme, but without being much attended to. 
203:141,01[Y  ]| "Oh! yes, 
203:141,02[Y  ]| perhaps, it had been $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  They did not know. 
203:141,03[Y  ]| It might be him, perhaps." 
203:141,03['  ]| They could not listen to her 
203:141,04['  ]| description of him.  They were describing him themselves; 
203:141,05['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter especially.  He did justice to 
203:141,05@g   | his very 
203:141,06@g   | gentlemanlike appearance, his air of elegance and fashion, 
203:141,07@g   | his good shaped face, his sensible eye, but, at the same 
203:141,08@g   | time, 
203:141,08[G  ]| "must lament his being very much under-hung, 
203:141,09[G  ]| a defect which time seemed to have increased; nor could 
203:141,10[G  ]| he pretend to say that ten years had not altered almost 
203:141,11[G  ]| every feature for the worse.  $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot appeared to think 
203:141,12[G  ]| that he 
203:141,12['  ]| ($PN#G$Sir*Walter) 
203:141,12[G  ]| was looking exactly as he had done 
203:141,13[G  ]| when they last parted;" 
203:141,13['  ]| but $PN#G$Sir*Walter had 
203:141,13[G  ]| "not been 
203:141,14[G  ]| able to return the compliment entirely, which had embarrassed 
203:141,15[G  ]| him.  He did not mean to complain, however. 
203:141,16[G  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot was better to look at than most men, and he 
203:141,17[G  ]| had no objection to being seen with him any*where." 
203:141,18['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, and his friends in Marlborough*Buildings, 
203:141,19['  ]| were talked of the whole evening. 
203:141,19[Y  ]| "$PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis 
203:141,20[Y  ]| had been so impatient to be introduced to them! and 
203:141,21[Y  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot so anxious that he should!" 
203:141,21@y   | And there was 
203:141,22@y   | a $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis, at present only known to them by description, 
203:141,23@y   | as she was in daily expectation of her confinement; 
203:141,24@y   | but $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot spoke of her as 
203:141,24@i   | "a most charming woman, 
203:141,25@i   | quite worthy of being known in Camden-place," 
203:141,25@y   | and as 
203:141,26@y   | soon as she recovered, they were to be acquainted. 
203:141,26['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
203:141,27['  ]| thought much of $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis; 
203:141,27@g   | she was said to 
203:141,28@g   | be an excessively pretty woman, beautiful. 
203:141,28[G  ]| "He longed 
203:141,29[G  ]| to see her.  He hoped she might make some amends for 
203:141,30[G  ]| the many very plain faces he was continually passing in 
203:141,31[G  ]| the streets.  The worst of Bath was, the number of its 
203:141,32[G  ]| plain women.  He did not mean to say that there were 
203:141,33[G  ]| no pretty women, but the number of the plain was out 
203:141,34[G  ]| of all proportion.  He had frequently observed, as he 
203:141,35[G  ]| walked, that one handsome face would be followed by 
203:141,36[G  ]| thirty, or five*and*thirty frights; and once, as he had 
203:141,37[G  ]| stood in the shop in Bond-street, he had counted eighty-seven 
203:141,38[G  ]| women go by, one after another, without there 
203:142,01[G  ]| being a tolerable face among them.  It had been a frosty 
203:142,02[G  ]| morning, to be sure, a sharp frost, which hardly one 
203:142,03[G  ]| woman in a thousand could stand the test of.  But still, 
203:142,04[G  ]| there certainly were a dreadful multitude of ugly women 
203:142,05[G  ]| in Bath; and as for the men! they were infinitely worse. 
203:142,06[G  ]| Such scare-crows as the streets were full of!  It was 
203:142,07[G  ]| evident how little the women were used to the sight of 
203:142,08[G  ]| any*thing tolerable, by the effect which a man of decent 
203:142,09[G  ]| appearance produced.  He had never walked any*where 
203:142,10[G  ]| arm in arm with $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis, (who was a fine military 
203:142,11[G  ]| figure, though sandy-haired) without observing that every 
203:142,12[G  ]| woman's eye was upon him; every woman's eye was 
203:142,13[G  ]| sure to be upon $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis." 
203:142,13['  ]| Modest $PN#G$Sir*Walter! 
203:142,14['  ]| He was not allowed to escape, however.  His daughter 
203:142,15['  ]| and $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay united in hinting that $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis's 
203:142,16['  ]| companion might have as good a figure as $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis, 
203:142,17['  ]| and certainly was not sandy-haired. 
203:142,18[G  ]| "How is $PN#P$Mary looking?" 
203:142,18['  ]| said $PN#G$Sir*Walter, in the height 
203:142,19['  ]| of his good*humour. 
203:142,19[G  ]| "The last time I saw her, she had 
203:142,20[G  ]| a red nose, but I hope that may not happen every day." 
203:142,21[A  ]| "Oh! no, that must have been quite accidental.  In 
203:142,22[A  ]| general she has been in very good health, and very good 
203:142,23[A  ]| looks since Michaelmas." 
203:142,24[G  ]| "If I thought it would not tempt her to go out in 
203:142,25[G  ]| sharp winds, and grow coarse, I would send her a new 
203:142,26[G  ]| hat and pelisse." 
203:142,27['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was considering whether she should venture to 
203:142,28['  ]| suggest that a gown, or a cap, would not be liable to any 
203:142,29['  ]| such misuse, when a knock at the door suspended every 
203:142,30['  ]| thing. 
203:142,30[Y  ]| "A knock at the door! and so late!  It was ten 
203:142,31[Y  ]| o'clock.  Could it be $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot?  They knew he was to 
203:142,32[Y  ]| dine in Lansdown*Crescent.  It was possible that he might 
203:142,33[Y  ]| stop in his way home, to ask them how they did.  They 
203:142,34[Y  ]| could think of no*one else.  $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay decidedly thought 
203:142,35[Y  ]| it $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's knock." 
203:142,35['  ]| $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay was right.  With all 
203:142,36['  ]| the state which a butler and foot-boy could give, $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot 
203:142,37['  ]| was ushered into the room. 
203:142,38@a   | It was the same, the very same man, with no difference 
203:143,01@a   | but of dress. 
203:143,01['  ]| $PN#A$Anne drew a little back, while the others 
203:143,02['  ]| received his compliments, and her sister his apologies for 
203:143,03['  ]| calling at so unusual an hour, but 
203:143,03[I  ]| "he could not be so 
203:143,04[I  ]| near without wishing to know that neither she nor her 
203:143,05[I  ]| friend had taken cold the day before, &c% &c%" 
203:143,05@a   | which 
203:143,06@a   | was all as politely done, and as politely taken as possible, 
203:143,07@a   | but her part must follow then. 
203:143,07['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter talked of his 
203:143,08['  ]| youngest daughter; 
203:143,08[G  ]| "$PN#I$Mr%*Elliot must give him leave to 
203:143,09[G  ]| present him to his youngest daughter" ~~ 
203:143,09['  ]| (there was no 
203:143,10['  ]| occasion for remembering $PN#P$Mary) and $PN#A$Anne, smiling and 
203:143,11['  ]| blushing, very becomingly shewed to $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot the pretty 
203:143,12['  ]| features which he had by no means forgotten, and 
203:143,13['  ]| instantly saw, with amusement at his little start of surprise, 
203:143,14['  ]| that he had not been at all aware of who she was. 
203:143,15@a   | He looked completely astonished, but not more astonished 
203:143,16@a   | than pleased; his eye brightened, and with the most 
203:143,17@a   | perfect alacrity he welcomed the relationship, alluded to 
203:143,18@a   | the past, and entreated to be received as an acquaintance 
203:143,19@a   | already.  He was quite as good-looking as he had appeared 
203:143,20@a   | at Lyme, his countenance improved by speaking, and his 
203:143,21@a   | manners were so exactly what they ought to be, so 
203:143,22@a   | polished, so easy, so particularly agreeable, that she could 
203:143,23@a   | compare them in excellence to only one person's manners. 
203:143,24@a   | They were not the same, but they were, perhaps, equally 
203:143,25@a   | good. 
203:143,26@a   | He sat down with them, and improved their conversation 
203:143,27@a   | very much.  There could be no doubt of his being 
203:143,28@a   | a sensible man.  Ten minutes were enough to certify that. 
203:143,29@a   | His tone, his expressions, his choice of subject, his knowing 
203:143,30@a   | where to stop, ~~ it was all the operation of a sensible, 
203:143,31@a   | discerning mind.  As soon as he could, he began to talk 
203:143,32@a   | to her of Lyme, wanting to compare opinions respecting 
203:143,33@a   | the place, but especially wanting to speak of the circumstance 
203:143,34@a   | of their happening to be guests in the same inn at 
203:143,35@a   | the same time, to give his own route, understand something 
203:143,36@a   | of her, and regret that he should have lost such 
203:143,37@a   | an opportunity of paying his respects to her. 
203:143,37['  ]| She gave 
203:143,38['  ]| him a short account of her party, and business at Lyme. 
203:144,01['  ]| His regret increased as he listened. 
203:144,01@i   | He had spent his 
203:144,02@i   | whole solitary evening in the room adjoining theirs; had 
203:144,03@i   | heard voices ~~ mirth continually; thought they must be 
203:144,04@i   | a most delightful set of people ~~ longed to be with them; 
203:144,05@i   | but certainly without the smallest suspicion of his possessing 
203:144,06@i   | the shadow of a right to introduce himself.  If 
203:144,07@i   | he had but asked who the party were!  The name of 
203:144,08@i   | $PN#W1$Musgrove would have told him enough. 
203:144,08[I  ]| "Well, it would 
203:144,09[I  ]| serve to cure him of an absurd practice of never asking 
203:144,10[I  ]| a question at an inn, which he had adopted, when quite 
203:144,11[I  ]| a young man, on the principle of its being very ungenteel 
203:144,12[I  ]| to be curious. 
203:144,13[I  ]| "The notions of a young man of one or two*and*twenty," 
203:144,14['  ]| said he, 
203:144,14[I  ]| "as to what is necessary in manners 
203:144,15[I  ]| to make him quite the thing, are more absurd, I believe, 
203:144,16[I  ]| than those of any other set of beings in the world.  The 
203:144,17[I  ]| folly of the means they often employ is only to be equalled 
203:144,18[I  ]| by the folly of what they have in view." 
203:144,19['  ]| But he must not be addressing his reflections to $PN#A$Anne 
203:144,20['  ]| alone; he knew it; he was soon diffused again among 
203:144,21['  ]| the others, and it was only at intervals that he could 
203:144,22['  ]| return to Lyme. 
203:144,23['  ]| His enquiries, however, produced at length an account 
203:144,24['  ]| of the scene she had been engaged in there, soon after 
203:144,25['  ]| his leaving the place.  Having alluded to 
203:144,25[A  ]| "an accident," 
203:144,25['  ]| he 
203:144,26['  ]| must hear the whole.  When he questioned, $PN#G$Sir*Walter and 
203:144,27['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth began to question also; 
203:144,27@a   | but the difference in their 
203:144,28@a   | manner of doing it could not be unfelt.  She could only 
203:144,29@a   | compare $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot to $PN#K$Lady*Russell, in the wish of really 
203:144,30@a   | comprehending what had passed, and in the degree of 
203:144,31@a   | concern for what she must have suffered in witnessing it. 
203:144,32['  ]| He staid an hour with them.  The elegant little clock 
203:144,33['  ]| on the mantle-piece had struck 
203:144,33@z   | "eleven with its silver 
203:144,34@z   | sounds," 
203:144,34['  ]| and the watchman was beginning to be heard 
203:144,35['  ]| at a distance telling the same tale, before $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot or 
203:144,36['  ]| any of them seemed to feel that he had been there long. 
203:144,37['  ]| $PN#A$Anne could not have supposed it possible that her first 
203:144,38['  ]| evening in Camden-place could have passed so well! 
204:145,01['  ]| There was one point which $PN#A$Anne, on returning to her 
204:145,02['  ]| family, would have been more thankful to ascertain, even 
204:145,03['  ]| than $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's being in love with $PN#H$Elizabeth, which was, 
204:145,04['  ]| her father's not being in love with $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay; and she 
204:145,05['  ]| was very far from easy about it, when she had been at 
204:145,06['  ]| home a few hours.  On going down to breakfast the next 
204:145,07['  ]| morning, she found there had just been a decent pretence 
204:145,08['  ]| on the lady's side of meaning to leave them.  She could 
204:145,09['  ]| imagine $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay to have said, that "now $PN#A$Miss*Anne 
204:145,10['  ]| was come, she could not suppose herself at all wanted;" 
204:145,11['  ]| for $PN#H$Elizabeth was replying, in a sort of whisper, 
204:145,11[H  ]| "That 
204:145,12[H  ]| must not be any reason, indeed.  I assure you I feel it 
204:145,13[H  ]| none.  She is nothing to me, compared with you;" 
204:145,13['  ]| and 
204:145,14['  ]| she was in full time to hear her father say, 
204:145,14[G  ]| "My dear 
204:145,15[G  ]| Madam, this must not be.  As yet, you have seen nothing 
204:145,16[G  ]| of Bath.  You have been here only to be useful.  You 
204:145,17[G  ]| must not run away from us now.  You must stay to be 
204:145,18[G  ]| acquainted with $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis, the beautiful $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis. 
204:145,19[G  ]| To your fine mind, I well know the sight of beauty is 
204:145,20[G  ]| a real gratification." 
204:145,21['  ]| He spoke and looked so much in earnest, that $PN#A$Anne 
204:145,22['  ]| was not surprised to see $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay stealing a glance at 
204:145,23['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth and herself. 
204:145,23@a   | Her countenance, perhaps, might 
204:145,24@a   | express some watchfulness; but the praise of the fine 
204:145,25@a   | mind did not appear to excite a thought in her sister. 
204:145,26['  ]| The lady could not but yield to such joint entreaties, and 
204:145,27['  ]| promise to stay. 
204:145,28['  ]| In the course of the same morning, $PN#A$Anne and her father 
204:145,29['  ]| chancing to be alone together, he began to compliment 
204:145,30['  ]| her on her improved looks; he thought her 
204:145,30[G  ]| "less thin 
204:145,31[G  ]| in her person, in her cheeks; her skin, her complexion, 
204:145,32[G  ]| greatly improved ~~ clearer, fresher.  Had she been using 
204:145,33[G  ]| any*thing in particular?" 
204:145,33[A  ]| "No, nothing." 
204:145,33[G  ]| "Merely 
204:146,01[G  ]| Gowland," 
204:146,01['  ]| he supposed. 
204:146,01[A  ]| "No, nothing at all." 
204:146,01[G  ]| "Ha! 
204:146,02[G  ]| he was surprised at that;" 
204:146,02['  ]| and added, 
204:146,02[G  ]| "Certainly you 
204:146,03[G  ]| cannot do better than continue as you are; you cannot 
204:146,04[G  ]| be better than well; or I should recommend Gowland, 
204:146,05[G  ]| the constant use of Gowland, during the spring months. 
204:146,06[G  ]| $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay has been using it at my recommendation, and 
204:146,07[G  ]| you see what it has done for her.  You see how it has 
204:146,08[G  ]| carried away her freckles." 
204:146,09@a   | If $PN#H$Elizabeth could but have heard this!  Such personal 
204:146,10@a   | praise might have struck her, especially as it did not 
204:146,11@a   | appear to $PN#A$Anne that the freckles were at all lessened. 
204:146,12@a   | But every*thing must take its chance.  The evil of the 
204:146,13@a   | marriage would be much diminished, if $PN#H$Elizabeth were 
204:146,14@a   | also to marry.  As for herself, she might always command 
204:146,15@a   | a home with $PN#K$Lady*Russell. 
204:146,16['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell's composed mind and polite manners were 
204:146,17['  ]| put to some trial on this point, in her intercourse in 
204:146,18['  ]| Camden-place.  The sight of $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay in such favour, 
204:146,19['  ]| and of $PN#A$Anne so overlooked, was a perpetual provocation 
204:146,20['  ]| to her there; and vexed her as much when she was 
204:146,21['  ]| away, as a person in Bath who drinks the water, gets all 
204:146,22['  ]| the new publications, and has a very large acquaintance, 
204:146,23['  ]| has time to be vexed. 
204:146,24['  ]| As $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot became known to her, she grew more 
204:146,25['  ]| charitable, or more indifferent, towards the others. 
204:146,25@k   | His 
204:146,26@k   | manners were an immediate recommendation; and on 
204:146,27@k   | conversing with him she found the solid so fully supporting 
204:146,28@k   | the superficial, that she was at first, as she told 
204:146,29@k   | $PN#A$Anne, almost ready to exclaim, "Can this be $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot?" 
204:146,30@k   | and could not seriously picture to herself a more agreeable 
204:146,31@k   | or estimable man.  Every*thing united in him; good 
204:146,32@k   | understanding, correct opinions, knowledge of the world, 
204:146,33@k   | and a warm heart.  He had strong feelings of family-attachment 
204:146,34@k   | and family-honour, without pride or weakness; 
204:146,35@k   | he lived with the liberality of a man of fortune, 
204:146,36@k   | without display; he judged for himself in every*thing 
204:146,37@k   | essential, without defying public opinion in any point of 
204:146,38@k   | worldly decorum.  He was steady, observant, moderate, 
204:147,01@k   | candid; never run away with by spirits or by selfishness, 
204:147,02@k   | which fancied itself strong feeling; and yet, with a sensibility 
204:147,03@k   | to what was amiable and lovely, and a value for 
204:147,04@k   | all the felicities of domestic life, which characters of 
204:147,05@k   | fancied enthusiasm and violent agitation seldom really 
204:147,06@k   | possess.  She was sure that he had not been happy in 
204:147,07@k   | marriage. 
204:147,07['  ]| $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis said it, and $PN#K$Lady*Russell saw 
204:147,08['  ]| it; 
204:147,08@k   | but it had been no unhappiness to sour his mind, 
204:147,09@k   | nor 
204:147,09['  ]| (she began pretty soon to suspect) 
204:147,09@k   | to prevent his 
204:147,10@k   | thinking of a second choice. 
204:147,10['  ]| Her satisfaction in $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot 
204:147,11['  ]| outweighed all the plague of $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay. 
204:147,12['  ]| It was now some years since $PN#A$Anne had begun to learn 
204:147,13['  ]| that she and her excellent friend could sometimes think 
204:147,14['  ]| differently; and it did not surprise her, therefore, that 
204:147,15['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell should see nothing suspicious or inconsistent, 
204:147,16['  ]| nothing to require more motives than appeared, 
204:147,17['  ]| in $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's great desire of a reconciliation.  In 
$PN#K$Lady*Russell's 
204:147,18['  ]| view, it was perfectly natural that $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, 
204:147,19['  ]| at a mature time of life, should feel it a most desirable 
204:147,20['  ]| object, and what would very generally recommend him, 
204:147,21['  ]| among all sensible people, to be on good terms with the 
204:147,22['  ]| head of his family; the simplest process in the world of 
204:147,23['  ]| time upon a head naturally clear, and only erring in the 
204:147,24['  ]| heyday of youth.  $PN#A$Anne presumed, however, still to smile 
204:147,25['  ]| about it; and at last to mention 
204:147,25[A  ]| "$PN#H$Elizabeth." 
204:147,25['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
204:147,26['  ]| listened, and looked, and made only this cautious 
204:147,27['  ]| reply: 
204:147,27[K  ]| "$PN#H$Elizabeth!  Very well.  Time will explain." 
204:147,28['  ]| It was a reference to the future, which $PN#A$Anne, after 
204:147,29['  ]| a little observation, felt she must submit to.  She could 
204:147,30['  ]| determine nothing at present. 
204:147,30@a   | In that house $PN#H$Elizabeth 
204:147,31@a   | must be first; and she was in the habit of such general 
204:147,32@a   | observance as "$PN#H$Miss*Elliot," that any particularity of 
204:147,33@a   | attention seemed almost impossible.  $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, too, it 
204:147,34@a   | must be remembered, had not been a widower seven 
204:147,35@a   | months.  A little delay on his side might be very excusable. 
204:147,36['  ]| In fact, $PN#A$Anne could never see the crape round his 
204:147,37['  ]| hat, without fearing that she was the inexcusable one, in 
204:147,38['  ]| attributing to him such imaginations; for though his 
204:148,01['  ]| marriage had not been very happy, still it had existed 
204:148,02['  ]| so many years that she could not comprehend a very 
204:148,03['  ]| rapid recovery from the awful impression of its being 
204:148,04['  ]| dissolved. 
204:148,05@a   | However it might end, he was without any question 
204:148,06@a   | their pleasantest acquaintance in Bath; she saw nobody 
204:148,07@a   | equal to him; and it was a great indulgence now and 
204:148,08@a   | then to talk to him about Lyme, which he seemed to 
204:148,09@a   | have as lively a wish to see again, and to see more of, 
204:148,10@a   | as herself. 
204:148,10['  ]| They went through the particulars of their 
204:148,11['  ]| first meeting a great many times.  He gave her to understand 
204:148,12['  ]| that he had looked at her with some earnestness. 
204:148,13['  ]| She knew it well; and she remembered another person's 
204:148,14['  ]| look also. 
204:148,15['  ]| They did not always think alike.  His value for rank 
204:148,16['  ]| and connexion she perceived to be greater than hers. 
204:148,16@a   | It 
204:148,17@a   | was not merely complaisance, it must be a liking to the 
204:148,18@a   | cause, which made him enter warmly into her father 
204:148,19@a   | and sister's solicitudes on a subject which she thought 
204:148,20@a   | unworthy to excite them. 
204:148,20['  ]| The Bath paper one morning 
204:148,21['  ]| announced the arrival of the $PN#V$Dowager*Viscountess*Dalrymple, 
204:148,22['  ]| and her daughter, the $PN#ZH$Honourable*Miss*Carteret; 
204:148,23['  ]| and all the comfort of No%***, Camden-place, was swept 
204:148,24['  ]| away for many days; for the $PN#V1$Dalrymples (in $PN#A$Anne's 
204:148,25['  ]| opinion, most unfortunately) were cousins of the $PN#G1$Elliots; 
204:148,26['  ]| and the agony was, how to introduce themselves properly. 
204:148,27['  ]| $PN#A$Anne had never seen her father and sister before in 
204:148,28['  ]| contact with nobility, and she must acknowledge herself 
204:148,29['  ]| disappointed.  She had hoped better things from their 
204:148,30['  ]| high ideas of their own situation in life, and was reduced 
204:148,31['  ]| to form a wish which she had never foreseen ~~ a wish 
204:148,32['  ]| that they had more pride; for 
204:148,32[Y  ]| "our cousins $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple 
204:148,33[Y  ]| and $PN#ZH$Miss*Carteret;" "our cousins, the $PN#V1$Dalrymples," 
204:148,34['  ]| sounded in her ears all day long. 
204:148,35['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter had once been in company with the late 
204:148,36['  ]| $PN#ZG$Viscount, but had never seen any of the rest of the 
204:148,37['  ]| family, and the difficulties of the case arose from there 
204:148,38['  ]| having been a suspension of all intercourse by letters of 
204:149,01['  ]| ceremony, ever since the death of that said late $PN#ZG$Viscount, 
204:149,02['  ]| when, in consequence of a dangerous illness of $PN#G$Sir*Walter's 
204:149,03['  ]| at the same time, there had been an unlucky omission 
204:149,04['  ]| at Kellynch.  No letter of condolence had been sent to 
204:149,05['  ]| Ireland.  The neglect had been visited on the head of 
204:149,06['  ]| the sinner, for when poor $PN#ZK$Lady*Elliot died herself, no 
204:149,07['  ]| letter of condolence was received at Kellynch, and, consequently, 
204:149,08['  ]| there was but too much reason to apprehend 
204:149,09['  ]| that the $PN#V1$Dalrymples considered the relationship as closed. 
204:149,10['  ]| How to have this anxious business set to rights, and be 
204:149,11['  ]| admitted as cousins again, was the question; and it was 
204:149,12['  ]| a question which, in a more rational manner, neither $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
204:149,13['  ]| nor $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot thought unimportant. 
204:149,13[Y  ]| "Family 
204:149,14[Y  ]| connexions were always worth preserving, good company 
204:149,15[Y  ]| always worth seeking; $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple had taken a 
204:149,16[Y  ]| house, for three months, in Laura-place, and would be 
204:149,17[Y  ]| living in style.  She had been at Bath the year before, 
204:149,18[Y  ]| and $PN#K$Lady*Russell had heard her spoken of as a charming 
204:149,19[Y  ]| woman.  It was very desirable that the connexion should 
204:149,20[Y  ]| be renewed, if it could be done, without any compromise 
204:149,21[Y  ]| of propriety on the side of the $PN#G1$Elliots." 
204:149,22['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter, however, would choose his own means, and 
204:149,23['  ]| at last wrote a very fine letter of ample explanation, regret 
204:149,24['  ]| and entreaty, to his right honourable cousin.  Neither 
204:149,25['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell nor $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot could admire the letter; but 
204:149,26['  ]| it did all that was wanted, in bringing three lines of 
204:149,27['  ]| scrawl from the $PN#V$Dowager*Viscountess. 
204:149,27[V  ]| "She was very 
204:149,28[V  ]| much honoured, and should be happy in their acquaintance." 
204:149,29['  ]| The toils of the business were over, the sweets 
204:149,30['  ]| began.  They visited in Laura-place, they had the cards 
204:149,31['  ]| of $PN#V$Dowager*Viscountess*Dalrymple, and the $PN#ZH$Hon%*Miss*Carteret, 
204:149,32['  ]| to be arranged wherever they might be most 
204:149,33['  ]| visible; and 
204:149,33[Y  ]| "Our cousins in Laura-place," ~~ "Our 
204:149,34[Y  ]| cousins, $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple and $PN#ZH$Miss*Carteret," 
204:149,34['  ]| were talked 
204:149,35['  ]| of to every*body. 
204:149,36['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was ashamed.  Had $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple and her 
204:149,37['  ]| daughter even been very agreeable, she would still have 
204:149,38['  ]| been ashamed of the agitation they created, but they 
204:150,01['  ]| were nothing. 
204:150,01@a   | There was no superiority of manner, 
204:150,02@a   | accomplishment, or understanding.  $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple had 
204:150,03@a   | acquired the name of "a charming woman," because she 
204:150,04@a   | had a smile and a civil answer for every*body.  $PN#ZH$Miss*Carteret, 
204:150,05@a   | with still less to say, was so plain and so awkward, 
204:150,06@a   | that she would never have been tolerated in 
204:150,07@a   | Camden-place but for her birth. 
204:150,08['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell confessed that 
204:150,08@k   | she had expected something 
204:150,09@k   | better; but yet 
204:150,09[K  ]| "it was an acquaintance worth 
204:150,10[K  ]| having," 
204:150,10['  ]| and when $PN#A$Anne ventured to speak her opinion 
204:150,11['  ]| of them to $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, he agreed to 
204:150,11@i   | their being nothing 
204:150,12@i   | in themselves, but still maintained that as a family connexion, 
204:150,13@i   | as good company, as those who would collect 
204:150,14@i   | good company around them, they had their value. 
204:150,14['  ]| $PN#A$Anne 
204:150,15['  ]| smiled and said, 
204:150,16[A  ]| "My idea of good company, $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, is the company 
204:150,17[A  ]| of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of 
204:150,18[A  ]| conversation; that is what I call good company." 
204:150,19[I  ]| "You are mistaken," 
204:150,19['  ]| said he gently, 
204:150,19[I  ]| "that is not good 
204:150,20[I  ]| company, that is the best.  Good company requires only 
204:150,21[I  ]| birth, education and manners, and with regard to education 
204:150,22[I  ]| is not very nice.  Birth and good manners are 
204:150,23[I  ]| essential; but a little learning is by no means a dangerous 
204:150,24[I  ]| thing in good company, on the contrary, it will do very 
204:150,25[I  ]| well.  My cousin, $PN#A$Anne, shakes her head.  She is not 
204:150,26[I  ]| satisfied.  She is fastidious.  My dear cousin, 
204:150,26['  ]| (sitting 
204:150,27['  ]| down by her) 
204:150,27[I  ]| you have a better right to be fastidious 
204:150,28[I  ]| than almost any other woman I know; but will it 
204:150,29[I  ]| answer?  Will it make you happy?  Will it not be wiser 
204:150,30[I  ]| to accept the society of these good ladies in Laura-place, 
204:150,31[I  ]| and enjoy all the advantages of the connexion as far as 
204:150,32[I  ]| possible?  You may depend upon it, that they will move 
204:150,33[I  ]| in the first set in Bath this winter, and as rank is rank, 
204:150,34[I  ]| your being known to be related to them will have its use 
204:150,35[I  ]| in fixing your family (our family let me say) in that 
204:150,36[I  ]| degree of consideration which we must all wish for." 
204:150,37[A  ]| "Yes," 
204:150,37['  ]| sighed $PN#A$Anne, 
204:150,37[A  ]| "we shall, indeed, be known to 
204:150,38[A  ]| be related to them!" ~~ 
204:150,38['  ]| then recollecting herself, and not 
204:151,01['  ]| wishing to be answered, she added, 
204:151,01[A  ]| "I certainly do think 
204:151,02[A  ]| there has been by far too much trouble taken to procure 
204:151,03[A  ]| the acquaintance.  I suppose 
204:151,03['  ]| (smiling) 
204:151,03[A  ]| I have more pride 
204:151,04[A  ]| than any of you; but I confess it does vex me, that we 
204:151,05[A  ]| should be so solicitous to have the relationship acknowledged, 
204:151,06[A  ]| which we may be very sure is a matter of perfect 
204:151,07[A  ]| indifference to them." 
204:151,08[I  ]| "Pardon me, my dear cousin, you are unjust to your 
204:151,09[I  ]| own claims.  In London, perhaps, in your present quiet 
204:151,10[I  ]| style of living, it might be as you say; but in Bath, 
204:151,11[I  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot and his family will always be worth 
204:151,12[I  ]| knowing, always acceptable as acquaintance." 
204:151,13[A  ]| "Well," 
204:151,13['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, 
204:151,13[A  ]| "I certainly am proud, too proud 
204:151,14[A  ]| to enjoy a welcome which depends so entirely upon place." 
204:151,15[I  ]| "I love your indignation," 
204:151,15['  ]| said he; 
204:151,15[I  ]| "it is very natural. 
204:151,16[I  ]| But here you are in Bath, and the object is to be established 
204:151,17[I  ]| here with all the credit and dignity which ought 
204:151,18[I  ]| to belong to $PN#G$Sir*Walter*Elliot.  You talk of being proud, 
204:151,19[I  ]| I am called proud I know, and I shall not wish to believe 
204:151,20[I  ]| myself otherwise, for our pride, if investigated, would 
204:151,21[I  ]| have the same object, I have no doubt, though the kind 
204:151,22[I  ]| may seem a little different.  In one point, I am sure, my 
204:151,23[I  ]| dear cousin, 
204:151,23['  ]| (he continued, speaking lower, though there 
204:151,24['  ]| was no*one else in the room) 
204:151,24[I  ]| in one point, I am sure, we 
204:151,25[I  ]| must feel alike.  We must feel that every addition to 
204:151,26[I  ]| your father's society, among his equals or superiors, may 
204:151,27[I  ]| be of use in diverting his thoughts from those who are 
204:151,28[I  ]| beneath him." 
204:151,29['  ]| He looked, as he spoke, to the seat which $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay 
204:151,30['  ]| had been lately occupying, a sufficient explanation of 
204:151,31['  ]| what he particularly meant; and though $PN#A$Anne could not 
204:151,32['  ]| believe in their having the same sort of pride, she was 
204:151,33['  ]| pleased with him for not liking $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay; and her conscience 
204:151,34['  ]| admitted that 
204:151,34@a   | his wishing to promote her father's 
204:151,35@a   | getting great acquaintance, was more than excusable in 
204:151,36@a   | the view of defeating her. 
205:152,01['  ]| While $PN#G$Sir*Walter and $PN#H$Elizabeth were assiduously 
205:152,02['  ]| pushing their good fortune in Laura-place, $PN#A$Anne was 
205:152,03['  ]| renewing an acquaintance of a very different description. 
205:152,04['  ]| She had called on her former governess, and had heard 
205:152,05['  ]| from her of there being an old school-fellow in Bath, who 
205:152,06['  ]| had the two strong claims on her attention, of past 
205:152,07['  ]| kindness and present suffering.  $PN#F$Miss*Hamilton, now 
205:152,08['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, had shewn her kindness in one of those 
205:152,09['  ]| periods of her life when it had been most valuable.  $PN#A$Anne 
205:152,10['  ]| had gone unhappy to school, grieving for the loss of 
205:152,11['  ]| a mother whom she had dearly loved, feeling her separation 
205:152,12['  ]| from home, and suffering as a girl of fourteen, of 
205:152,13['  ]| strong sensibility and not high spirits, must suffer at such 
205:152,14['  ]| a time; and $PN#F$Miss*Hamilton, three years older than herself, 
205:152,15['  ]| but still from the want of near relations and a settled 
205:152,16['  ]| home, remaining another year at school, had been useful 
205:152,17['  ]| and good to her in a way which had considerably lessened 
205:152,18['  ]| her misery, and could never be remembered with indifference. 
205:152,19['  ]| 
205:152,20['  ]| $PN#F$Miss*Hamilton had left school, had married not long 
205:152,21['  ]| afterwards, was said to have married a man of fortune, 
205:152,22['  ]| and this was all that $PN#A$Anne had known of her, till now 
205:152,23['  ]| that their governess's account brought her situation forward 
205:152,24['  ]| in a more decided but very different form. 
205:152,25['  ]| She was a widow, and poor.  Her husband had been 
205:152,26['  ]| extravagant; and at his death, about two years before, 
205:152,27['  ]| had left his affairs dreadfully involved.  She had had 
205:152,28['  ]| difficulties of every sort to contend with, and in addition 
205:152,29['  ]| to these distresses, had been afflicted with a severe rheumatic 
205:152,30['  ]| fever, which finally settling in her legs, had made 
205:152,31['  ]| her for the present a cripple.  She had come to Bath on 
205:152,32['  ]| that account, and was now in lodgings near the hot-baths, 
205:152,33['  ]| living in a very humble way, unable even to afford 
205:153,01['  ]| herself the comfort of a servant, and of course almost 
205:153,02['  ]| excluded from society. 
205:153,03['  ]| Their mutual friend answered for the satisfaction which 
205:153,04['  ]| a visit from $PN#A$Miss*Elliot would give $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, and $PN#A$Anne 
205:153,05['  ]| therefore lost no time in going.  She mentioned nothing 
205:153,06['  ]| of what she had heard, or what she intended, at home. 
205:153,07@a   | It would excite no proper interest there. 
205:153,07['  ]| She only consulted 
205:153,08['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell, who entered thoroughly into her 
205:153,09['  ]| sentiments, and was most happy to convey her as near 
205:153,10['  ]| to $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith's lodgings in Westgate-buildings, as $PN#A$Anne 
205:153,11['  ]| chose to be taken. 
205:153,12['  ]| The visit was paid, their acquaintance re-established, 
205:153,13['  ]| their interest in each other more than re-kindled.  The 
205:153,14['  ]| first ten minutes had its awkwardness and its emotion. 
205:153,15['  ]| Twelve years were gone since they had parted, and each 
205:153,16['  ]| presented a somewhat different person from what the 
205:153,17['  ]| other had imagined.  Twelve years had changed $PN#A$Anne 
205:153,18['  ]| from the blooming, silent, unformed girl of fifteen, to the 
205:153,19['  ]| elegant little woman of seven*and*twenty, with every 
205:153,20['  ]| beauty excepting bloom, and with manners as consciously 
205:153,21['  ]| right as they were invariably gentle; and twelve years 
205:153,22['  ]| had transformed the fine-looking, well-grown $PN#F$Miss*Hamilton, 
205:153,23['  ]| in all the glow of health and confidence of superiority, 
205:153,24['  ]| into a poor, infirm, helpless widow, receiving the visit of 
205:153,25['  ]| her former protegee= as a favour; but all that was uncomfortable 
205:153,26['  ]| in the meeting had soon passed away, and left 
205:153,27['  ]| only the interesting charm of remembering former partialities 
205:153,28['  ]| and talking over old times. 
205:153,29['  ]| $PN#A$Anne found in $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith the good sense and agreeable 
205:153,30['  ]| manners which she had almost ventured to depend on, 
205:153,31['  ]| and a disposition to converse and be cheerful beyond her 
205:153,32['  ]| expectation.  Neither the dissipations of the past ~~ and 
205:153,33['  ]| she had lived very much in the world, nor the restrictions 
205:153,34['  ]| of the present; neither sickness nor sorrow seemed to 
205:153,35['  ]| have closed her heart or ruined her spirits. 
205:153,36['  ]| In the course of a second visit she talked with great 
205:153,37['  ]| openness, and $PN#A$Anne's astonishment increased.  She could 
205:153,38['  ]| scarcely imagine a more cheerless situation in itself than 
205:154,01['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith's.  She had been very fond of her husband, ~~ 
205:154,02['  ]| she had buried him.  She had been used to affluence, ~~ it 
205:154,03['  ]| was gone.  She had no child to connect her with life and 
205:154,04['  ]| happiness again, no relations to assist in the arrangement 
205:154,05['  ]| of perplexed affairs, no health to make all the rest supportable. 
205:154,06['  ]| Her accommodations were limited to a noisy 
205:154,07['  ]| parlour, and a dark bed-room behind, with no possibility 
205:154,08['  ]| of moving from one to the other without assistance, which 
205:154,09['  ]| there was only one servant in the house to afford, and 
205:154,10['  ]| she never quitted the house but to be conveyed into the 
205:154,11['  ]| warm bath. ~~ Yet, in spite of all this, $PN#A$Anne had reason 
205:154,12['  ]| to believe that she had moments only of languor and 
205:154,13['  ]| depression, to hours of occupation and enjoyment.  
205:154,13@a   | How 
205:154,14@a   | could it be? ~~ 
205:154,14['  ]| She watched ~~ observed ~~ reflected ~~ and 
205:154,15['  ]| finally determined that 
205:154,15@a   | this was not a case of fortitude 
205:154,16@a   | or of resignation only. ~~ A submissive spirit might be
205:154,17@a   | patient, a strong understanding would supply resolution, 
205:154,18@a   | but here was something more; here was that elasticity 
205:154,19@a   | of mind, that disposition to be comforted, that power of 
205:154,20@a   | turning readily from evil to good, and of finding employment 
205:154,21@a   | which carried her out of herself, which was from 
205:154,22@a   | Nature alone.  It was the choicest gift of Heaven; 
205:154,22['  ]| and 
205:154,23['  ]| $PN#A$Anne viewed her friend as 
205:154,23@a   | one of those instances in which, 
205:154,24@a   | by a merciful appointment, it seems designed to counterbalance 
205:154,25@a   | almost every other want. 
205:154,26@f   | There had been a time, 
205:154,26['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith told her, 
205:154,26@f   | when her 
205:154,27@f   | spirits had nearly failed.  She could not call herself an 
205:154,28@f   | invalid now, compared with her state on first reaching 
205:154,29@f   | Bath.  Then, she had indeed been a pitiable object ~~ for 
205:154,30@f   | she had caught cold on the journey, and had hardly taken 
205:154,31@f   | possession of her lodgings, before she was again confined 
205:154,32@f   | to her bed, and suffering under severe and constant pain; 
205:154,33@f   | and all this among strangers ~~ with the absolute necessity 
205:154,34@f   | of having a regular nurse, and finances at that moment 
205:154,35@f   | particularly unfit to meet any extraordinary expense. 
205:154,36@f   | She had weathered it however, and could truly say that 
205:154,37@f   | it had done her good.  It had increased her comforts by 
205:154,38@f   | making her feel herself to be in good hands.  She had 
205:155,01@f   | seen too much of the world, to expect sudden or disinterested 
205:155,02@f   | attachment any*where, but her illness had 
205:155,03@f   | proved to her that her landlady had a character to preserve, 
205:155,04@f   | and would not use her ill; and she had been 
205:155,05@f   | particularly fortunate in her nurse, as a sister of her 
205:155,06@f   | landlady, a nurse by profession, and who had always 
205:155,07@f   | a home in that house when unemployed, chanced to be 
205:155,08@f   | at liberty just in time to attend her. ~~ 
205:155,08[F  ]| "And she," 
205:155,08['  ]| said 
205:155,09['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, 
205:155,09[F  ]| "besides nursing me most admirably, has 
205:155,10[F  ]| really proved an invaluable acquaintance. ~~ As soon as 
205:155,11[F  ]| I could use my hands, she taught me to knit, which has 
205:155,12[F  ]| been a great amusement; and she put me in the way 
205:155,13[F  ]| of making these little thread-cases, pin-cushions and card-racks, 
205:155,14[F  ]| which you always find me so busy about, and which 
205:155,15[F  ]| supply me with the means of doing a little good to one 
205:155,16[F  ]| or two very poor families in this neighbourhood.  She has 
205:155,17[F  ]| a large acquaintance, of course professionally, among 
205:155,18[F  ]| those who can afford to buy, and she disposes of my 
205:155,19[F  ]| merchandize.  She always takes the right time for applying. 
205:155,20[F  ]| Every*body's heart is open, you know, when they 
205:155,21[F  ]| have recently escaped from severe pain, or are recovering 
205:155,22[F  ]| the blessing of health, and $PN#ZZA$nurse*Rooke thoroughly understands 
205:155,23[F  ]| when to speak.  She is a shrewd, intelligent, 
205:155,24[F  ]| sensible woman.  Hers is a line for seeing human nature; 
205:155,25[F  ]| and she has a fund of good sense and observation which, 
205:155,26[F  ]| as a companion, make her infinitely superior to thousands 
205:155,27[F  ]| of those who having only received ""the best education 
205:155,28[F  ]| in the world,"" know nothing worth attending to.  Call it 
205:155,29[F  ]| gossip if you will; but when $PN#ZZA$nurse*Rooke has half an 
205:155,30[F  ]| hour's leisure to bestow on me, she is sure to have something 
205:155,31[F  ]| to relate that is entertaining and profitable, something 
205:155,32[F  ]| that makes one know one's species better.  One 
205:155,33[F  ]| likes to hear what is going on, to be \au*fait\ as to the 
205:155,34[F  ]| newest modes of being trifling and silly.  To me, who live 
205:155,35[F  ]| so much alone, her conversation I assure you is a treat." 
205:155,36['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, far from wishing to cavil at the pleasure, replied, 
205:155,37[A  ]| "I can easily believe it.  Women of that class have great 
205:155,38[A  ]| opportunities, and if they are intelligent may be well 
205:156,01[A  ]| worth listening to.  Such varieties of human nature as 
205:156,02[A  ]| they are in the habit of witnessing!  And it is not merely 
205:156,03[A  ]| in its follies, that they are well read; for they see it 
205:156,04[A  ]| occasionally under every circumstance that can be most 
205:156,05[A  ]| interesting or affecting.  What instances must pass before 
205:156,06[A  ]| them of ardent, disinterested, self-denying attachment, of 
205:156,07[A  ]| heroism, fortitude, patience, resignation ~~ of all the conflicts 
205:156,08[A  ]| and all the sacrifices that ennoble us most.  A sick*chamber 
205:156,09[A  ]| may often furnish the worth of volumes." 
205:156,10[F  ]| "Yes," 
205:156,10['  ]| said $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith more doubtingly, 
205:156,10[F  ]| "sometimes 
205:156,11[F  ]| it may, though I fear its lessons are not often in the 
205:156,12[F  ]| elevated style you describe.  Here and there, human 
205:156,13[F  ]| nature may be great in times of trial, but generally 
205:156,14[F  ]| speaking it is its weakness and not its strength that 
205:156,15[F  ]| appears in a sick*chamber; it is selfishness and impatience 
205:156,16[F  ]| rather than generosity and fortitude, that one hears of. 
205:156,17[F  ]| There is so little real friendship in the world! ~~ and 
205:156,18[F  ]| unfortunately" 
205:156,18['  ]| (speaking low and tremulously) 
205:156,18[F  ]| "there 
205:156,19[F  ]| are so many who forget to think seriously till it is almost 
205:156,20[F  ]| too late." 
205:156,21['  ]| $PN#A$Anne saw the misery of such feelings. 
205:156,21@a   | The husband 
205:156,22@a   | had not been what he ought, and the wife had been led 
205:156,23@a   | among that part of mankind which made her think worse 
205:156,24@a   | of the world, than she hoped it deserved. 
205:156,24['  ]| It was but 
205:156,25['  ]| a passing emotion however with $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, she shook 
205:156,26['  ]| it off, and soon added in a different tone. 
205:156,27[F  ]| "I do not suppose the situation my friend $PN#ZZA$Mrs%*Rooke 
205:156,28[F  ]| is in at present, will furnish much either to interest or 
205:156,29[F  ]| edify me. ~~ She is only nursing $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis of Marlborough-buildings 
205:156,30[F  ]| ~~ a mere pretty, silly, expensive, fashionable 
205:156,31[F  ]| woman, I believe ~~ and of course will have nothing to 
205:156,32[F  ]| report but of lace and finery. ~~ I mean to make my profit 
205:156,33[F  ]| of $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis, however.  She has plenty of money, and 
205:156,34[F  ]| I intend she shall buy all the high-priced things I have 
205:156,35[F  ]| in hand now." 
205:156,36['  ]| $PN#A$Anne had called several times on her friend, before the 
205:156,37['  ]| existence of such a person was known in Camden-place. 
205:156,38['  ]| At last, it became necessary to speak of her. ~~ $PN#G$Sir*Walter, 
205:157,01['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth, and $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay returned one morning from 
205:157,02['  ]| Laura-place, with a sudden invitation from $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple 
205:157,03['  ]| for the same evening, and $PN#A$Anne was already 
205:157,04['  ]| engaged, to spend that evening in Westgate-buildings. 
205:157,05@a   | She was not sorry for the excuse.  They were only asked, 
205:157,06@a   | she was sure, because $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple being kept at 
205:157,07@a   | home by a bad cold, was glad to make use of the relationship 
205:157,08@a   | which had been so pressed on her, ~~ 
205:157,08['  ]| and she declined 
205:157,09['  ]| on her own account with great alacrity ~~ 
205:157,09[A  ]| "She was 
205:157,10[A  ]| engaged to spend the evening with an old schoolfellow." 
205:157,11['  ]| They were not much interested in any*thing relative to 
205:157,12['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, but still there were questions enough asked, to 
205:157,13['  ]| make it understood what this old schoolfellow was; and 
205:157,14['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth was disdainful, and $PN#G$Sir*Walter severe. 
205:157,15[G  ]| "Westgate-buildings!" 
205:157,15['  ]| said he; 
205:157,15[G  ]| "and who is $PN#A$Miss*Anne*Elliot 
205:157,16[G  ]| to be visiting in Westgate-buildings? ~~ A 
205:157,17[G  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith.  A widow $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, ~~ and who was her 
205:157,18[G  ]| husband?  One of the five thousand $PN#X$Mr%*Smiths whose 
205:157,19[G  ]| names are to be met with every*where.  And what is her 
205:157,20[G  ]| attraction?  That she is old and sickly. ~~ Upon my word, 
205:157,21[G  ]| $PN#A$Miss*Anne*Elliot, you have the most extraordinary taste! 
205:157,22[G  ]| Every*thing that revolts other people, low company, 
205:157,23[G  ]| paltry rooms, foul air, disgusting associations are inviting 
205:157,24[G  ]| to you.  But surely, you may put off this old lady till 
205:157,25[G  ]| to-morrow.  She is not so near her end, I presume, but 
205:157,26[G  ]| that she may hope to see another day.  What is her 
205:157,27[G  ]| age?  Forty?" 
205:157,28[A  ]| "No, Sir, she is not one*and*thirty; but I do not 
205:157,29[A  ]| think I can put off my engagement, because it is the only 
205:157,30[A  ]| evening for some time which will at once suit her and 
205:157,31[A  ]| myself. ~~ She goes into the warm bath to-morrow, and for 
205:157,32[A  ]| the rest of the week you know we are engaged." 
205:157,33[H  ]| "But what does $PN#K$Lady*Russell think of this acquaintance?" 
205:157,34['  ]| asked $PN#H$Elizabeth. 
205:157,35[A  ]| "She sees nothing to blame in it," 
205:157,35['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne; 
205:157,35[A  ]| "on 
205:157,36[A  ]| the contrary, she approves it; and has generally taken 
205:157,37[A  ]| me, when I have called on $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith." 
205:157,38[G  ]| "Westgate-buildings must have been rather surprised 
205:158,01[G  ]| by the appearance of a carriage drawn up near its pavement!" 
205:158,02['  ]| observed $PN#G$Sir*Walter. ~~ 
205:158,02[G  ]| "$PN#ZZB$Sir*Henry*Russell's 
205:158,03[G  ]| widow, indeed, has no honours to distinguish her arms; 
205:158,04[G  ]| but still, it is a handsome equipage, and no doubt is well 
205:158,05[G  ]| known to convey a $PN#A$Miss*Elliot. ~~ A widow $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, 
205:158,06[G  ]| lodging in Westgate-buildings! ~~ A poor widow, barely 
205:158,07[G  ]| able to live, between thirty and fifty ~~ a mere $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, 
205:158,08[G  ]| an every*day $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, of all people and all names in 
205:158,09[G  ]| the world, to be the chosen friend of $PN#A$Miss*Anne*Elliot, 
205:158,10[G  ]| and to be preferred by her, to her own family connections 
205:158,11[G  ]| among the nobility of England and Ireland!  $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, 
205:158,12[G  ]| such a name!" 
205:158,13['  ]| $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay, who had been present while all this passed, 
205:158,14['  ]| now thought it advisable to leave the room, and $PN#A$Anne 
205:158,15['  ]| could have said much and did long to say a little, in 
205:158,16['  ]| defence of \her\ friend's not very dissimilar claims to theirs, 
205:158,17['  ]| but her sense of personal respect to her father prevented 
205:158,18['  ]| her.  She made no reply.  She left it to himself to recollect, 
205:158,19['  ]| that $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith was not the only widow in Bath between 
205:158,20['  ]| thirty and forty, with little to live on, and no sirname 
205:158,21['  ]| of dignity. 
205:158,22['  ]| $PN#A$Anne kept her appointment; the others kept theirs, 
205:158,23['  ]| and of course she heard the next morning that they had 
205:158,24['  ]| had a delightful evening. ~~ 
205:158,24@y   | She had been the only one of 
205:158,25@y   | the set absent; for $PN#G$Sir*Walter and $PN#H$Elizabeth had not 
205:158,26@y   | only been quite at her ladyship's service themselves, but 
205:158,27@y   | had actually been happy to be employed by her in collecting 
205:158,28@y   | others, and had been at the trouble of inviting both 
205:158,29@y   | $PN#K$Lady*Russell and $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot; and $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot had made 
205:158,30@y   | a point of leaving $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis early, and $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
205:158,31@y   | had fresh arranged all her evening engagements in order 
205:158,32@y   | to wait on her. 
205:158,32['  ]| $PN#A$Anne had the whole history of all that 
205:158,33['  ]| such an evening could supply, from $PN#K$Lady*Russell.  To 
205:158,34['  ]| her, its greatest interest must be, in having been very 
205:158,35['  ]| much talked of between her friend and $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, in 
205:158,36['  ]| having been wished for, regretted, and at the same time 
205:158,37['  ]| honoured for staying away in such a cause. ~~ Her kind, 
205:158,38['  ]| compassionate visits to this old schoolfellow, sick and 
205:159,01['  ]| reduced, seemed to have quite delighted $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  He 
205:159,02['  ]| thought her a most extraordinary young woman; in her 
205:159,03['  ]| temper, manners, mind, a model of female excellence. 
205:159,04['  ]| He could meet even $PN#K$Lady*Russell in a discussion of her 
205:159,05['  ]| merits; and $PN#A$Anne could not be given to understand so 
205:159,06['  ]| much by her friend, could not know herself to be so 
205:159,07['  ]| highly rated by a sensible man, without many of those 
205:159,08['  ]| agreeable sensations which her friend meant to create. 
205:159,09['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell was now perfectly decided in her opinion 
205:159,10['  ]| of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  She was as much convinced of his meaning 
205:159,11['  ]| to gain $PN#A$Anne in time, as of his deserving her; and was 
205:159,12['  ]| beginning to calculate the number of weeks which would 
205:159,13['  ]| free him from all the remaining restraints of widowhood, 
205:159,14['  ]| and leave him at liberty to exert his most open powers 
205:159,15['  ]| of pleasing.  She would not speak to $PN#A$Anne with half the 
205:159,16['  ]| certainty she felt on the subject, she would venture on 
205:159,17['  ]| little more than hints of what might be hereafter, of 
205:159,18['  ]| a possible attachment on his side, of the desirableness 
205:159,19['  ]| of the alliance, supposing such attachment to be real, 
205:159,20['  ]| and returned.  $PN#A$Anne heard her, and made no violent 
205:159,21['  ]| exclamations.  She only smiled, blushed, and gently shook 
205:159,22['  ]| her head. 
205:159,23[K  ]| "I am no match-maker, as you well know," 
205:159,23['  ]| said $PN#K$Lady*Russell, 
205:159,24[K  ]| "being much too well aware of the uncertainty 
205:159,25[K  ]| of all human events and calculations.  I only mean that 
205:159,26[K  ]| if $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot should some time hence pay his addresses 
205:159,27[K  ]| to you, and if you should be disposed to accept him, 
205:159,28[K  ]| I think there would be every possibility of your being 
205:159,29[K  ]| happy together.  A most suitable connection every*body 
205:159,30[K  ]| must consider it ~~ but I think it might be a very happy 
205:159,31[K  ]| one." 
205:159,32[A  ]| "$PN#I$Mr%*Elliot is an exceedingly agreeable man, and in 
205:159,33[A  ]| many respects I think highly of him," 
205:159,33['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne; 
205:159,33[A  ]| "but 
205:159,34[A  ]| we should not suit." 
205:159,35['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell let this pass, and only said in rejoinder, 
205:159,36[K  ]| "I own that to be able to regard you as the future 
205:159,37[K  ]| mistress of Kellynch, the future $PN#A$Lady*Elliot ~~ to look 
205:159,38[K  ]| forward and see you occupying your dear mother's place, 
205:160,01[K  ]| succeeding to all her rights, and all her popularity, as 
205:160,02[K  ]| well as to all her virtues, would be the highest possible 
205:160,03[K  ]| gratification to me. ~~ You are your mother's self in countenance 
205:160,04[K  ]| and disposition; and if I might be allowed to 
205:160,05[K  ]| fancy you such as she was, in situation, and name, and 
205:160,06[K  ]| home, presiding and blessing in the same spot, and only 
205:160,07[K  ]| superior to her in being more highly valued!  My dearest 
205:160,08[K  ]| $PN#A$Anne, it would give me more delight than is often felt 
205:160,09[K  ]| at my time of life!" 
205:160,10['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was obliged to turn away, to rise, to walk to 
205:160,11['  ]| a distant table, and, leaning there in pretended employment, 
205:160,12['  ]| try to subdue the feelings this picture excited.  For 
205:160,13['  ]| a few moments her imagination and her heart were 
205:160,14['  ]| bewitched. 
205:160,14@a   | The idea of becoming what her mother had 
205:160,15@a   | been; of having the precious name of "$PN#A$Lady*Elliot" 
205:160,16@a   | first revived in herself; of being restored to Kellynch, 
205:160,17@a   | calling it her home again, her home for*ever, was a charm 
205:160,18@a   | which she could not immediately resist. 
205:160,18['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
205:160,19['  ]| said not another word, willing to leave the matter to its 
205:160,20['  ]| own operation; and believing that, could $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot at 
205:160,21['  ]| that moment with propriety have spoken for himself! ~~ 
205:160,22['  ]| She believed, in short, what $PN#A$Anne did not believe.  The 
205:160,23['  ]| same image of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot speaking for himself, brought 
205:160,24['  ]| $PN#A$Anne to composure again. 
205:160,24@a   | The charm of Kellynch and 
205:160,25@a   | of "$PN#A$Lady*Elliot" all faded away.  She never could accept 
205:160,26@a   | him. 
205:160,26['  ]| And it was not only that her feelings were still 
205:160,27['  ]| adverse to any man save one; her judgment, on a serious 
205:160,28['  ]| consideration of the possibilities of such a case, was 
205:160,29['  ]| against $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot. 
205:160,30['  ]| Though they had now been acquainted a month, she 
205:160,31['  ]| could not be satisfied that she really knew his character. 
205:160,32@a   | That he was a sensible man, an agreeable man, ~~ that he 
205:160,33@a   | talked well, professed good opinions, seemed to judge 
205:160,34@a   | properly and as a man of principle, ~~ this was all clear 
205:160,35@a   | enough.  He certainly knew what was right, nor could 
205:160,36@a   | she fix on any one article of moral duty evidently transgressed; 
205:160,37@a   | but yet she would have been afraid to answer 
205:160,38@a   | for his conduct.  She distrusted the past, if not the 
205:161,01@a   | present.  The names which occasionally dropt of former 
205:161,02@a   | associates, the allusions to former practices and pursuits, 
205:161,03@a   | suggested suspicions not favourable of what he had been. 
205:161,04@a   | She saw that there had been bad habits; that Sunday-travelling 
205:161,05@a   | had been a common thing; that there had 
205:161,06@a   | been a period of his life (and probably not a short one) 
205:161,07@a   | when he had been, at least, careless on all serious matters; 
205:161,08@a   | and, though he might now think very differently, who 
205:161,09@a   | could answer for the true sentiments of a clever, cautious 
205:161,10@a   | man, grown old enough to appreciate a fair character? 
205:161,11@a   | How could it ever be ascertained that his mind was truly 
205:161,12@a   | cleansed? 
205:161,13@a   | $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot was rational, discreet, polished, ~~ but he was 
205:161,14@a   | not open.  There was never any burst of feeling, any 
205:161,15@a   | warmth of indignation or delight, at the evil or good of 
205:161,16@a   | others. 
205:161,16['  ]| This, to $PN#A$Anne, was a decided imperfection.  Her 
205:161,17['  ]| early impressions were incurable.  She prized the frank, 
205:161,18['  ]| the open-hearted, the eager character beyond all others. 
205:161,19['  ]| Warmth and enthusiasm did captivate her still.  She felt 
205:161,20['  ]| that she could so much more depend upon the sincerity 
205:161,21['  ]| of those who sometimes looked or said a careless or 
205:161,22['  ]| a hasty thing, than of those whose presence of mind 
205:161,23['  ]| never varied, whose tongue never slipped. 
205:161,24@a   | $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot was too generally agreeable.  Various as 
205:161,25@a   | were the tempers in her father's house, he pleased them 
205:161,26@a   | all.  He endured too well, ~~ stood too well with everybody. 
205:161,27@a   | He had spoken to her with some degree of openness 
205:161,28@a   | of $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay; had appeared completely to see what 
205:161,29@a   | $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay was about, and to hold her in contempt; and 
205:161,30@a   | yet $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay found him as agreeable as anybody. 
205:161,31['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell saw either less or more than her young 
205:161,32['  ]| friend, for she saw nothing to excite distrust.  She could 
205:161,33['  ]| not imagine a man more exactly what he ought to be 
205:161,34['  ]| than $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot; nor did she ever enjoy a sweeter feeling 
205:161,35['  ]| than the hope of seeing him receive the hand of her 
205:161,36['  ]| beloved $PN#A$Anne in Kellynch church, in the course of the 
205:161,37['  ]| following autumn. 
206:162,01['  ]| It was the beginning of February; and $PN#A$Anne, having 
206:162,02['  ]| been a month in Bath, was growing very eager for news 
206:162,03['  ]| from Uppercross and Lyme.  She wanted to hear much 
206:162,04['  ]| more than $PN#P$Mary communicated.  It was three weeks since 
206:162,05['  ]| she had heard at all.  She only knew that $PN#R$Henrietta was 
206:162,06['  ]| at home again; and that $PN#M$Louisa, though considered to 
206:162,07['  ]| be recovering fast, was still at Lyme; and she was 
206:162,08['  ]| thinking of them all very intently one evening, when 
206:162,09['  ]| a thicker letter than usual from $PN#P$Mary was delivered to 
206:162,10['  ]| her, and, to quicken the pleasure and surprise, with 
206:162,11['  ]| $PN#D$Admiral and $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft's compliments. 
206:162,12@a   | The $PN#D1$Crofts must be in Bath! 
206:162,12['  ]| A circumstance to 
206:162,13['  ]| interest her.  They were people whom her heart turned 
206:162,14['  ]| to very naturally. 
206:162,15[G  ]| "What is this?" 
206:162,15['  ]| cried $PN#G$Sir*Walter. 
206:162,15[G  ]| "The $PN#D1$Crofts 
206:162,16[G  ]| arrived in Bath?  The $PN#D1$Crofts who rent Kellynch?  What 
206:162,17[G  ]| have they brought you?" 
206:162,18[A  ]| "A letter from Uppercross*Cottage, Sir." 
206:162,19[G  ]| "Oh! those letters are convenient passports.  They 
206:162,20[G  ]| secure an introduction.  I should have visited $PN#D$Admiral*Croft, 
206:162,21[G  ]| however, at any rate.  I know what is due to my 
206:162,22[G  ]| tenant." 
206:162,23['  ]| $PN#A$Anne could listen no longer; she could not even have 
206:162,24['  ]| told how the poor $PN#D$Admiral's complexion escaped; her 
206:162,25['  ]| letter engrossed her.  It had been begun several days 
206:162,26['  ]| back. 
206:162,27['  ]| 
206:162,28[P  ]| "February*1st*****. 
206:162,29[P  ]| "MY DEAR $PN#A$ANNE, 
206:162,30[P  ]| "I make no apology for my silence, because I know 
206:162,31[P  ]| "how little people think of letters in such a place as 
206:162,32[P  ]| "Bath.  You must be a great deal too happy to care for 
206:162,33[P  ]| "Uppercross, which, as you well know, affords little to 
206:162,34[P  ]| "write about.  We have had a very dull Christmas; 
206:163,01[P  ]| "$PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove have not had one dinner-party 
206:163,02[P  ]| "all the holidays.  I do not reckon the $PN#ZP1$Hayters as any*body. 
206:163,03[P  ]| "The holidays, however, are over at last:  I believe 
206:163,04[P  ]| "no children ever had such long ones.  I am sure I had 
206:163,05[P  ]| "not.  The house was cleared yesterday, except of the 
206:163,06[P  ]| "little $PN#V1$Harvilles; but you will be surprised to hear that 
206:163,07[P  ]| "they have never gone home.  $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville must be an 
206:163,08[P  ]| "odd mother to part with them so long.  I do not understand 
206:163,09[P  ]| "it.  They are not at all nice children, in my 
206:163,10[P  ]| "opinion; but $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove seems to like them quite 
206:163,11[P  ]| "as well, if not better, than her grand-children.  What 
206:163,12[P  ]| "dreadful weather we have had!  It may not be felt in 
206:163,13[P  ]| "Bath, with your nice pavements; but in the country 
206:163,14[P  ]| "it is of some consequence.  I have not had a creature 
206:163,15[P  ]| "call on me since the second week in January, except 
206:163,16[P  ]| "$PN#L$Charles*Hayter, who has been calling much oftener than 
206:163,17[P  ]| "was welcome.  Between ourselves, I think it a great 
206:163,18[P  ]| "pity $PN#R$Henrietta did not remain at Lyme as long as 
206:163,19[P  ]| "$PN#M$Louisa; it would have kept her a little out of his way. 
206:163,20[P  ]| "The carriage is gone to-day, to bring $PN#M$Louisa and the 
206:163,21[P  ]| "$PN#J1$Harvilles to-morrow.  We are not asked to dine with 
206:163,22[P  ]| "them, however, till the day after, $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove is so 
206:163,23[P  ]| "afraid of her being fatigued by the journey, which is 
206:163,24[P  ]| "not very likely, considering the care that will be taken 
206:163,25[P  ]| "of her; and it would be much more convenient to me 
206:163,26[P  ]| "to dine there to-morrow.  I am glad you find $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot 
206:163,27[P  ]| "so agreeable, and wish I could be acquainted with him 
206:163,28[P  ]| "too; but I have my usual luck, I am always out of 
206:163,29[P  ]| "the way when any*thing desirable is going on; always 
206:163,30[P  ]| "the last of my family to be noticed.  What an immense 
206:163,31[P  ]| "time $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay has been staying with $PN#H$Elizabeth!  Does 
206:163,32[P  ]| "she never mean to go away?  But perhaps if she were 
206:163,33[P  ]| "to leave the room vacant we might not be invited. 
206:163,34[P  ]| "Let me know what you think of this.  I do not expect 
206:163,35[P  ]| "my children to be asked, you know.  I can leave them 
206:163,36[P  ]| "at the Great*House very well, for a month or six weeks. 
206:163,37[P  ]| "I have this moment heard that the $PN#D1$Crofts are going to 
206:163,38[P  ]| "Bath almost immediately; they think the $PN#D$admiral 
206:164,01[P  ]| "gouty.  $PN#O$Charles heard it quite by chance:  they have 
206:164,02[P  ]| "not had the civility to give me any notice, or offer to 
206:164,03[P  ]| "take any*thing.  I do not think they improve at all as 
206:164,04[P  ]| "neighbours.  We see nothing of them, and this is really 
206:164,05[P  ]| "an instance of gross inattention.  $PN#O$Charles joins me in 
206:164,06[P  ]| "love, and every*thing proper.  Yours, affectionately, 
206:164,07[P  ]|                                      "$PN#P$MARY*M****." 
206:164,08[P  ]| 
206:164,09[P  ]| "I am sorry to say that I am very far from well; and 
206:164,10[P  ]| "$PN#ZT$Jemima has just told me that the butcher says there 
206:164,11[P  ]| "is a bad sore-throat very much about.  I dare say 
206:164,12[P  ]| "I shall catch it; and my sore-throats, you know, are 
206:164,13[P  ]| "always worse than anybody's." 
206:164,14['  ]| So ended the first part, which had been afterwards put 
206:164,15['  ]| into an envelop, containing nearly as much more. 
206:164,16[P  ]| "I kept my letter open, that I might send you word 
206:164,17[P  ]| "how $PN#M$Louisa bore$1#1$ her journey, and now I am extremely 
206:164,18[P  ]| "glad I did, having a great deal to add.  In the first 
206:164,19[P  ]| "place, I had a note from $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft yesterday, offering 
206:164,20[P  ]| "to convey any*thing to you; a very kind, friendly note 
206:164,21[P  ]| "indeed, addressed to me, just as it ought; I shall therefore 
206:164,22[P  ]| "be able to make my letter as long as I like.  The 
206:164,23[P  ]| "$PN#D$admiral does not seem very ill, and I sincerely hope 
206:164,24[P  ]| "Bath will do him all the good he wants.  I shall be 
206:164,25[P  ]| "truly glad to have them back again.  Our neighbourhood 
206:164,26[P  ]| "cannot spare such a pleasant family.  But now 
206:164,27[P  ]| "for $PN#M$Louisa.  I have something to communicate that will 
206:164,28[P  ]| "astonish you not a little.  She and the $PN#J1$Harvilles came 
206:164,29[P  ]| "on Tuesday very safely, and in the evening we went 
206:164,30[P  ]| "to ask her how she did, when we were rather surprised 
206:164,31[P  ]| "not to find $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick of the party, for he had 
206:164,32[P  ]| "been invited as well as the $PN#J1$Harvilles; and what do you 
206:164,33[P  ]| "think was the reason?  Neither more nor less than his 
206:164,34[P  ]| "being in love with $PN#M$Louisa, and not choosing to venture 
206:164,35[P  ]| "to Uppercross till he had had an answer from $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove; 
206:164,36[P  ]| "for it was all settled between him and her before 
206:164,37[P  ]| "she came away, and he had written to her father by 
206:164,38[P  ]| "$PN#J$Captain*Harville.  True, upon my honour.  Are not 
206:165,01[P  ]| "you astonished?  I shall be surprised at least if you 
206:165,02[P  ]| "ever received a hint of it, for I never did.  $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove 
206:165,03[P  ]| "protests solemnly that she knew nothing of the matter. 
206:165,04[P  ]| "We are all very well pleased, however; for though it 
206:165,05[P  ]| "is not equal to her marrying $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, it is 
206:165,06[P  ]| "infinitely better than $PN#L$Charles*Hayter; and $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove 
206:165,07[P  ]| "has written his consent, and $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick is 
206:165,08[P  ]| "expected to-day.  $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville says her husband feels 
206:165,09[P  ]| "a good deal on his poor sister's account; but, however, 
206:165,10[P  ]| "$PN#M$Louisa is a great favourite with both.  Indeed $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville 
206:165,11[P  ]| "and I quite agree that we love her the better for 
206:165,12[P  ]| "having nursed her.  $PN#O$Charles wonders what $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
206:165,13[P  ]| "will say; but if you remember, I never 
206:165,14[P  ]| "thought him attached to $PN#M$Louisa; I never could see 
206:165,15[P  ]| "any*thing of it.  And this is the end, you see, of $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick's 
206:165,16[P  ]| "being supposed to be an admirer of yours. 
206:165,17[P  ]| "How $PN#O$Charles could take such a thing into his head was 
206:165,18[P  ]| "always incomprehensible to me.  I hope he will be more 
206:165,19[P  ]| "agreeable now.  Certainly not a great match for $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove; 
206:165,20[P  ]| "but a million times better than marrying 
206:165,21[P  ]| "among the $PN#ZP1$Hayters." 
206:165,22['  ]| $PN#P$Mary need not have feared her sister's being in any 
206:165,23['  ]| degree prepared for the news.  She had never in her life 
206:165,24['  ]| been more astonished. 
206:165,24@a   | $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick and $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove! 
206:165,25@a   | It was almost too wonderful for belief; 
206:165,25['  ]| and 
206:165,26['  ]| it was with the greatest effort that she could remain in 
206:165,27['  ]| the room, preserve an air of calmness, and answer the 
206:165,28['  ]| common questions of the moment.  Happily for her, they 
206:165,29['  ]| were not many.  $PN#G$Sir*Walter wanted to know 
206:165,29@g   | whether the 
206:165,30@g   | $PN#D1$Crofts travelled with four horses, and whether they were 
206:165,31@g   | likely to be situated in such a part of Bath as it might 
206:165,32@g   | suit $PN#H$Miss*Elliot and himself to visit in; 
206:165,32['  ]| but had little 
206:165,33['  ]| curiosity beyond. 
206:165,34[H  ]| "How is $PN#P$Mary?" 
206:165,34['  ]| said $PN#H$Elizabeth; and without waiting 
206:165,35['  ]| for an answer, 
206:165,35[H  ]| "And pray what brings the $PN#D1$Crofts to 
206:165,36[H  ]| Bath?" 
206:165,37[A  ]| "They come on the $PN#D$Admiral's account.  He is thought 
206:165,38[A  ]| to be gouty." 
206:166,01[G  ]| "Gout and decrepitude!" 
206:166,01['  ]| said $PN#G$Sir*Walter. 
206:166,01[G  ]| "Poor old 
206:166,02[G  ]| gentleman." 
206:166,03[H  ]| "Have they any acquaintance here?" 
206:166,03['  ]| asked $PN#H$Elizabeth. 
206:166,04[A  ]| "I do not know; but I can hardly suppose that, at 
206:166,05[A  ]| $PN#D$Admiral*Croft's time of life, and in his profession, he 
206:166,06[A  ]| should not have many acquaintance in such a place as 
206:166,07[A  ]| this." 
206:166,08[G  ]| "I suspect," 
206:166,08['  ]| said $PN#G$Sir*Walter coolly, 
206:166,08[G  ]| "that $PN#D$Admiral*Croft 
206:166,09[G  ]| will be best known in Bath as the renter of Kellynch-hall. 
206:166,10[G  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth, may we venture to present him and his 
206:166,11[G  ]| wife in Laura-place?" 
206:166,12[H  ]| "Oh! no, I think not.  Situated as we are with $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple, 
206:166,13[H  ]| cousins, we ought to be very careful not to 
206:166,14[H  ]| embarrass her with acquaintance she might not approve. 
206:166,15[H  ]| If we were not related, it would not signify; but as 
206:166,16[H  ]| cousins, she would feel scrupulous as to any proposal of 
206:166,17[H  ]| ours.  We had better leave the $PN#D1$Crofts to find their own 
206:166,18[H  ]| level.  There are several odd-looking men walking about 
206:166,19[H  ]| here, who, I am told, are sailors.  The $PN#D1$Crofts will associate 
206:166,20[H  ]| with them!" 
206:166,21['  ]| This was $PN#G$Sir*Walter and $PN#H$Elizabeth's share of interest 
206:166,22['  ]| in the letter; when $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay had paid her tribute of 
206:166,23['  ]| more decent attention, in an enquiry after 
206:166,23@c   | $PN#P$Mrs%*Charles*Musgrove, 
206:166,24@c   | and her fine little boys, 
206:166,24['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was at liberty. 
206:166,25['  ]| In her own room she tried to comprehend it. 
206:166,25@a   | Well 
206:166,26@a   | might $PN#O$Charles wonder how $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth would 
206:166,27@a   | feel!  Perhaps he had quitted the field, had given $PN#M$Louisa 
206:166,28@a   | up, had ceased to love, had found he did not love her. 
206:166,29@a   | She could not endure the idea of treachery or levity, or 
206:166,30@a   | any*thing akin to ill-usage between him and his friend. 
206:166,31@a   | She could not endure that such a friendship as theirs 
206:166,32@a   | should be severed unfairly. 
206:166,33@a   | $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick and $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove!  The high-spirited, 
206:166,34@a   | joyous, talking $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove, and the dejected, 
206:166,35@a   | thinking, feeling, reading $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, seemed 
206:166,36@a   | each of them every*thing that would not suit the other. 
206:166,37@a   | Their minds most dissimilar!  Where could have been 
206:166,38@a   | the attraction?  The answer soon presented itself.  It 
206:167,01@a   | had been in situation.  They had been thrown together 
206:167,02@a   | several weeks; they had been living in the same small 
206:167,03@a   | family party; since $PN#R$Henrietta's coming away, they must 
206:167,04@a   | have been depending almost entirely on each other, and 
206:167,05@a   | $PN#M$Louisa, just recovering from illness, had been in an 
206:167,06@a   | interesting state, and $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick was not inconsolable. 
206:167,07['  ]| That was a point which $PN#A$Anne had not been able 
206:167,08['  ]| to avoid suspecting before; and instead of drawing the 
206:167,09['  ]| same conclusion as $PN#P$Mary, from the present course of 
206:167,10['  ]| events, they served only to confirm the idea of his having 
206:167,11['  ]| felt some dawning of tenderness toward herself.  She did 
206:167,12['  ]| not mean, however, to derive much more from it to 
206:167,13['  ]| gratify her vanity, than $PN#P$Mary might have allowed.  She 
206:167,14['  ]| was persuaded that any tolerably pleasing young woman 
206:167,15['  ]| who had listened and seemed to feel for him, would have 
206:167,16['  ]| received the same compliment. 
206:167,16@a   | He had an affectionate 
206:167,17@a   | heart.  He must love somebody. 
206:167,18@a   | She saw no reason against their being happy. $PN#M$Louisa 
206:167,19@a   | had fine naval fervour to begin with, and they would 
206:167,20@a   | soon grow more alike.  He would gain cheerfulness, and 
206:167,21@a   | she would learn to be an enthusiast for $PN#Z1$Scott and $PN#Z1$Lord*Byron; 
206:167,22@a   | nay, that was probably learnt already; of course 
206:167,23@a   | they had fallen in love over poetry.  The idea of $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove 
206:167,24@a   | turned into a person of literary taste, and 
206:167,25@a   | sentimental reflection, was amusing, but she had no doubt 
206:167,26@a   | of its being so.  The day at Lyme, the fall from the Cobb, 
206:167,27@a   | might influence her health, her nerves, her courage, her 
206:167,28@a   | character to the end of her life, as thoroughly as it 
206:167,29@a   | appeared to have influenced her fate. 
206:167,30['  ]| The conclusion of the whole was, that 
206:167,30@a   | if the woman 
206:167,31@a   | who had been sensible of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's merits 
206:167,32@a   | could be allowed to prefer another man, there was nothing 
206:167,33@a   | in the engagement to excite lasting wonder; and if 
206:167,34@a   | $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth lost no friend by it, certainly nothing 
206:167,35@a   | to be regretted.  
206:167,35['  ]| No, it was not regret which made $PN#A$Anne's 
206:167,36['  ]| heart beat in spite of herself, and brought the colour into 
206:167,37['  ]| her cheeks when she thought of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
206:167,38['  ]| unshackled and free.  She had some feelings which she 
206:168,01['  ]| was ashamed to investigate.  They were too much like 
206:168,02['  ]| joy, senseless joy! 
206:168,03['  ]| She longed to see the $PN#D1$Crofts, but when the meeting 
206:168,04['  ]| took place, it was evident that no rumour of the news 
206:168,05['  ]| had yet reached them.  The visit of ceremony was paid 
206:168,06['  ]| and returned, and $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove was mentioned, and 
206:168,07['  ]| $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick too, without even half a smile. 
206:168,08['  ]| The $PN#D1$Crofts had placed themselves in lodgings in Gay-street, 
206:168,09['  ]| perfectly to $PN#G$Sir*Walter's satisfaction.  He was not 
206:168,10['  ]| at all ashamed of the acquaintance, and did, in fact, 
206:168,11['  ]| think and talk a great deal more about the $PN#D$Admiral, than 
206:168,12['  ]| the $PN#D$Admiral ever thought or talked about him. 
206:168,13['  ]| The $PN#D1$Crofts knew quite as many people in Bath as they 
206:168,14['  ]| wished for, and considered their intercourse with the 
206:168,15['  ]| $PN#G1$Elliots as a mere matter of form, and not in the least 
206:168,16['  ]| likely to afford them any pleasure.  They brought with 
206:168,17['  ]| them their country habit of being almost always together. 
206:168,18['  ]| He was ordered to walk, to keep off the gout, and 
206:168,19['  ]| $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft seemed to go shares with him in every*thing, 
206:168,20['  ]| and to walk for her life, to do him good.  $PN#A$Anne saw 
206:168,21['  ]| them wherever she went.  $PN#K$Lady*Russell took her out in 
206:168,22['  ]| her carriage almost every morning, and she never failed 
206:168,23['  ]| to think of them, and never failed to see them.  Knowing 
206:168,24['  ]| their feelings as she did, it was a most attractive picture 
206:168,25['  ]| of happiness to her.  She always watched them as long 
206:168,26['  ]| as she could; delighted to fancy she understood what 
206:168,27['  ]| they might be talking of, as they walked along in happy 
206:168,28['  ]| independence, or equally delighted to see the $PN#D$Admiral's 
206:168,29['  ]| hearty shake of the hand when he encountered an old 
206:168,30['  ]| friend, and observe their eagerness of conversation when 
206:168,31['  ]| occasionally forming into a little knot of the navy, 
206:168,32['  ]| $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft looking as intelligent and keen as any of the 
206:168,33['  ]| officers around her. 
206:168,34['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was too much engaged with $PN#K$Lady*Russell to be 
206:168,35['  ]| often walking herself, but it so happened that one morning, 
206:168,36['  ]| about a week or ten days after the $PN#D1$Crofts' arrival, it 
206:168,37['  ]| suited her best to leave her friend, or her friend's carriage, 
206:168,38['  ]| in the lower part of the town, and return alone to Camden-place; 
206:169,01['  ]| and in walking up Milsom-street, she had the good 
206:169,02['  ]| fortune to meet with the $PN#D$Admiral.  He was standing by 
206:169,03['  ]| himself, at a printshop window, with his hands behind 
206:169,04['  ]| him, in earnest contemplation of some print, and she not 
206:169,05['  ]| only might have passed him unseen, but was obliged to 
206:169,06['  ]| touch as well as address him before she could catch his 
206:169,07['  ]| notice.  When he did perceive and acknowledge her, however, 
206:169,08['  ]| it was done with all his usual frankness and good*humour.
206:169,09[D  ]| "Ha! is it you?  Thank you, thank you. 
206:169,10[D  ]| This is treating me like a friend.  Here I am, you see, 
206:169,11[D  ]| staring at a picture.  I can never get by this shop without 
206:169,12[D  ]| stopping.  But what a thing here is, by way of a boat. 
206:169,13[D  ]| Do look at it.  Did you ever see the like?  What queer 
206:169,14[D  ]| fellows your fine painters must be, to think that any*body 
206:169,15[D  ]| would venture their lives in such a shapeless old 
206:169,16[D  ]| cockleshell as that.  And yet, here are two gentlemen 
206:169,17[D  ]| stuck up in it mightily at their ease, and looking about 
206:169,18[D  ]| them at the rocks and mountains, as if they were not to 
206:169,19[D  ]| be upset the next moment, which they certainly must be. 
206:169,20[D  ]| I wonder where that boat was built!" 
206:169,20['  ]| (laughing heartily) 
206:169,21[D  ]| "I would not venture over a horsepond in it.  Well," 
206:169,22['  ]| (turning away) 
206:169,22[D  ]| "now, where are you bound?  Can I go 
206:169,23[D  ]| any*where for you, or with you?  Can I be of any use?" 
206:169,24[A  ]| "None, I thank you, unless you will give me the 
206:169,25[A  ]| pleasure of your company the little way our road lies 
206:169,26[A  ]| together.  I am going home." 
206:169,27[D  ]| "That I will, with all my heart, and farther too.  Yes, 
206:169,28[D  ]| yes, we will have a snug walk together; and I have 
206:169,29[D  ]| something to tell you as we go along.  There, take my 
206:169,30[D  ]| arm; that's right; I do not feel comfortable if I have 
206:169,31[D  ]| not a woman there.  Lord! what a boat it is!" 
206:169,31['  ]| taking 
206:169,32['  ]| a last look at the picture, as they began to be in motion. 
206:169,33[A  ]| "Did you say that you had something to tell me, 
206:169,34[A  ]| sir?" 
206:169,35[D  ]| "Yes, I have.  Presently.  But here comes a friend, 
206:169,36[D  ]| $PN#ZF$Captain*Brigden; I shall only say, ""How d'ye do,"" as 
206:169,37[D  ]| we pass, however.  I shall not stop.  ""How d'ye do."" 
206:169,38[D  ]| $PN#ZF$Brigden stares to see anybody with me but my wife. 
206:170,01[D  ]| She, poor soul, is tied by the leg.  She has a blister on 
206:170,02[D  ]| one of her heels, as large as a three shilling piece.  If you 
206:170,03[D  ]| look across the street, you will see $PN#ZE$Admiral*Brand coming 
206:170,04[D  ]| down and his brother.  Shabby fellows, both of them! 
206:170,05[D  ]| I am glad they are not on this side of the way.  $PN#E$Sophy 
206:170,06[D  ]| cannot bear them.  They played me a pitiful trick once ~~ 
206:170,07[D  ]| got away some of my best men.  I will tell you the whole 
206:170,08[D  ]| story another time.  There comes old $PN#ZI$Sir*Archibald*Drew 
206:170,09[D  ]| and his grandson.  Look, he sees us; he kisses his hand 
206:170,10[D  ]| to you; he takes you for my wife.  Ah! the peace has 
206:170,11[D  ]| come too soon for that younker.  Poor old $PN#ZI$Sir*Archibald! 
206:170,12[D  ]| How do you like Bath, $PN#A$Miss*Elliot?  It suits us very 
206:170,13[D  ]| well.  We are always meeting with some old friend or 
206:170,14[D  ]| other; the streets full of them every morning; sure to 
206:170,15[D  ]| have plenty of chat; and then we get away from them 
206:170,16[D  ]| all, and shut ourselves into our lodgings, and draw in our 
206:170,17[D  ]| chairs, and are as snug as if we were at Kellynch, ay, or 
206:170,18[D  ]| as we used to be even at North*Yarmouth and Deal.  We 
206:170,19[D  ]| do not like our lodgings here the worse, I can tell you, 
206:170,20[D  ]| for putting us in mind of those we first had at North*Yarmouth. 
206:170,21[D  ]| The wind blows through one of the cupboards 
206:170,22[D  ]| just in the same way." 
206:170,23['  ]| When they were got a little farther, $PN#A$Anne ventured to 
206:170,24['  ]| press again for what he had to communicate.  She had 
206:170,25['  ]| hoped, when clear of Milsom-street, to have her curiosity 
206:170,26['  ]| gratified; but she was still obliged to wait, for the 
206:170,27['  ]| $PN#D$Admiral had made up his mind not to begin, till they 
206:170,28['  ]| had gained the greater space and quiet of Belmont, and 
206:170,29['  ]| as she was not really $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, she must let him have 
206:170,30['  ]| his own way.  As soon as they were fairly ascending 
206:170,31['  ]| Belmont, he began, 
206:170,32[D  ]| "Well, now you shall hear something that will surprise 
206:170,33[D  ]| you.  But first of all, you must tell me the name of the 
206:170,34[D  ]| young lady I am going to talk about.  That young lady, 
206:170,35[D  ]| you know, that we have all been so concerned for.  The 
206:170,36[D  ]| $PN#M$Miss*Musgrove, that all this has been happening to.  Her 
206:170,37[D  ]| christian*name ~~ I always forget her christian*name." 
206:170,38['  ]| $PN#A$Anne had been ashamed to appear to comprehend so 
206:171,01['  ]| soon as she really did; but now she could safely suggest 
206:171,02['  ]| the name of 
206:171,02[A  ]| "$PN#M$Louisa." 
206:171,03[D  ]| "Ay, ay, $PN#M$Miss*Louisa*Musgrove, that is the name. 
206:171,04[D  ]| I wish young ladies had not such a number of fine christian*names. 
206:171,05[D  ]| I should never be out, if they were all $PN#X$Sophys, 
206:171,06[D  ]| or something of that sort.  Well, this $PN#M$Miss*Louisa, we all 
206:171,07[D  ]| thought, you know, was to marry $PN#B$Frederick.  He was 
206:171,08[D  ]| courting her week after week.  The only wonder was, 
206:171,09[D  ]| what they could be waiting for, till the business at Lyme 
206:171,10[D  ]| came; then, indeed, it was clear enough that they must 
206:171,11[D  ]| wait till her brain was set to right.  But even then, there 
206:171,12[D  ]| was something odd in their way of going on.  Instead of 
206:171,13[D  ]| staying at Lyme, he went off to Plymouth, and then he 
206:171,14[D  ]| went off to see $PN#ZZO$Edward.  When we came back from 
206:171,15[D  ]| Minehead, he was gone down to $PN#ZZO$Edward's, and there he 
206:171,16[D  ]| has been ever since.  We have seen nothing of him since 
206:171,17[D  ]| November.  Even $PN#E$Sophy could not understand it.  But 
206:171,18[D  ]| now, the matter has taken the strangest turn of all; for 
206:171,19[D  ]| this young lady, this same $PN#M$Miss*Musgrove, instead of 
206:171,20[D  ]| being to marry $PN#B$Frederick, is to marry $PN#ZD$James*Benwick. 
206:171,21[D  ]| You know $PN#ZD$James*Benwick." 
206:171,22[A  ]| "A little.  I am a little acquainted with $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick." 
206:171,23[A  ]| 
206:171,24[D  ]| "Well, she is to marry him.  Nay, most likely they 
206:171,25[D  ]| are married already, for I do not know what they should 
206:171,26[D  ]| wait for." 
206:171,27[A  ]| "I thought $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick a very pleasing young 
206:171,28[A  ]| man," 
206:171,28['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, 
206:171,28[A  ]| "and I understand that he bears an 
206:171,29[A  ]| excellent character." 
206:171,30[D  ]| "Oh! yes, yes, there is not a word to be said against 
206:171,31[D  ]| $PN#ZD$James*Benwick.  He is only a commander, it is true, 
206:171,32[D  ]| made last summer, and these are bad times for getting 
206:171,33[D  ]| on, but he has not another fault that I know of.  An 
206:171,34[D  ]| excellent, good-hearted fellow, I assure you, a very active, 
206:171,35[D  ]| zealous officer too, which is more than you would think 
206:171,36[D  ]| for, perhaps, for that soft sort of manner does not do 
206:171,37[D  ]| him justice." 
206:171,38[A  ]| "Indeed you are mistaken there, sir.  I should never 
206:172,01[A  ]| augur want of spirit from $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick's manners. 
206:172,02[A  ]| I thought them particularly pleasing, and I will answer 
206:172,03[A  ]| for it they would generally please." 
206:172,04[D  ]| "Well, well, ladies are the best judges; but $PN#ZD$James*Benwick 
206:172,05[D  ]| is rather too piano for me, and though very 
206:172,06[D  ]| likely it is all our partiality, $PN#E$Sophy and I cannot help 
206:172,07[D  ]| thinking $PN#B$Frederick's manners better than his.  There is 
206:172,08[D  ]| something about $PN#B$Frederick more to our taste." 
206:172,09['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was caught.  She had only meant to oppose the 
206:172,10['  ]| too-common idea of spirit and gentleness being incompatible 
206:172,11['  ]| with each other, not at all to represent $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick's 
206:172,12['  ]| manners as the very best that could possibly 
206:172,13['  ]| be, and, after a little hesitation, she was beginning to 
206:172,14['  ]| say, 
206:172,14[A  ]| "I was not entering into any comparison of the two 
206:172,15[A  ]| friends," 
206:172,15['  ]| but the $PN#D$Admiral interrupted her with, 
206:172,16[D  ]| "And the thing is certainly true.  It is not a mere bit 
206:172,17[D  ]| of gossip.  We have it from $PN#B$Frederick himself.  His sister 
206:172,18[D  ]| had a letter from him yesterday, in which he tells us of 
206:172,19[D  ]| it, and he had just had it in a letter from $PN#J$Harville, written 
206:172,20[D  ]| upon the spot, from Uppercross.  I fancy they are all at 
206:172,21[D  ]| Uppercross." 
206:172,22['  ]| This was an opportunity which $PN#A$Anne could not resist; 
206:172,23['  ]| she said, therefore, 
206:172,23[A  ]| "I hope, $PN#D$Admiral, I hope there is 
206:172,24[A  ]| nothing in the style of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's letter to 
206:172,25[A  ]| make you and $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft particularly uneasy.  It did 
206:172,26[A  ]| certainly seem, last autumn, as if there were an attachment 
206:172,27[A  ]| between him and $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove; but I hope it 
206:172,28[A  ]| may be understood to have worn out on each side equally, 
206:172,29[A  ]| and without violence.  I hope his letter does not breathe 
206:172,30[A  ]| the spirit of an ill-used man." 
206:172,31[D  ]| "Not at all, not at all; there is not an oath or a murmur 
206:172,32[D  ]| from beginning to end." 
206:172,33['  ]| $PN#A$Anne looked down to hide her smile. 
206:172,34[D  ]| "No, no; $PN#B$Frederick is not a man to whine and complain; 
206:172,35[D  ]| he has too much spirit for that.  If the girl likes 
206:172,36[D  ]| another man better, it is very fit she should have him." 
206:172,37[A  ]| "Certainly.  But what I mean is, that I hope there is 
206:172,38[A  ]| nothing in $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's manner of writing to 
206:173,01[A  ]| make you suppose he thinks himself ill-used by his friend, 
206:173,02[A  ]| which might appear, you know, without its being absolutely 
206:173,03[A  ]| said.  I should be very sorry that such a friendship 
206:173,04[A  ]| as has subsisted between him and $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick should 
206:173,05[A  ]| be destroyed, or even wounded, by a circumstance of 
206:173,06[A  ]| this sort." 
206:173,07[D  ]| "Yes, yes, I understand you.  But there is nothing at 
206:173,08[D  ]| all of that nature in the letter.  He does not give the 
206:173,09[D  ]| least fling at $PN#ZD$Benwick; does not so much as say, ""I 
206:173,10[D  ]| wonder at it, I have a reason of my own for wondering 
206:173,11[D  ]| at it.""  No, you would not guess, from his way of writing, 
206:173,12[D  ]| that he had ever thought of this $PN#M$Miss*(what's*her*name)? 
206:173,13[D  ]| for himself.  He very handsomely hopes they will be 
206:173,14[D  ]| happy together, and there is nothing very unforgiving in 
206:173,15[D  ]| that, I think." 
206:173,16['  ]| $PN#A$Anne did not receive the perfect conviction which the 
206:173,17['  ]| $PN#D$Admiral meant to convey, but it would have been useless 
206:173,18['  ]| to press the enquiry farther.  She, therefore, satisfied 
206:173,19['  ]| herself with common-place remarks, or quiet attention, 
206:173,20['  ]| and the $PN#D$Admiral had it all his own way. 
206:173,21[D  ]| "Poor $PN#B$Frederick!" 
206:173,21['  ]| said he at last. 
206:173,21[D  ]| "Now he must 
206:173,22[D  ]| begin all over again with somebody else.  I think we 
206:173,23[D  ]| must get him to Bath.  $PN#E$Sophy must write, and beg him 
206:173,24[D  ]| to come to Bath.  Here are pretty girls enough, I am 
206:173,25[D  ]| sure.  It would be of no use to go to Uppercross again, 
206:173,26[D  ]| for that other $PN#R$Miss*Musgrove, I find, is bespoke by her 
206:173,27[D  ]| cousin, the young parson.  Do not you think, $PN#A$Miss*Elliot, 
206:173,28[D  ]| we had better try to get him to Bath?" 
207:174,01['  ]| While $PN#D$Admiral*Croft was taking this walk with $PN#A$Anne, 
207:174,02['  ]| and expressing his wish of getting $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth to 
207:174,03['  ]| Bath, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was already on his way thither. 
207:174,04['  ]| Before $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft had written, he was arrived; and the 
207:174,05['  ]| very next time $PN#A$Anne walked out, she saw him. 
207:174,06['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot was attending his two cousins and $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay. 
207:174,07['  ]| They were in Milsom-street.  It began to rain, not much, 
207:174,08['  ]| but enough to make shelter desirable for women, and 
207:174,09['  ]| quite enough to make it very desirable for $PN#H$Miss*Elliot 
207:174,10['  ]| to have the advantage of being conveyed home in $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple's 
207:174,11['  ]| carriage, which was seen waiting at a little 
207:174,12['  ]| distance; she, $PN#A$Anne, and $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay, therefore, turned 
207:174,13['  ]| into $PN#Z1$Molland's, while $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot stepped to $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple. 
207:174,14['  ]| to request her assistance.  He soon joined them 
207:174,15['  ]| again, successful, of course; $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple 
207:174,15@v   | would be 
207:174,16@v   | most happy to take them home, and would call for them 
207:174,17@v   | in a few minutes. 
207:174,18['  ]| Her ladyship's carriage was a barouche, and did not 
207:174,19['  ]| hold more than four with any comfort.  $PN#ZH$Miss*Carteret 
207:174,20['  ]| was with her mother; consequently it was not reasonable 
207:174,21['  ]| to expect accommodation for all the three Camden-place 
207:174,22['  ]| ladies.  There could be no doubt as to $PN#H$Miss*Elliot.  Whoever 
207:174,23['  ]| suffered inconvenience, she must suffer none, but it 
207:174,24['  ]| occupied a little time to settle the point of civility between 
207:174,25['  ]| the other two.  The rain was a mere trifle, and $PN#A$Anne was 
207:174,26['  ]| most sincere in preferring a walk with $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  But 
207:174,27['  ]| the rain was also a mere trifle to $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay; 
207:174,27@c   | she would 
207:174,28@c   | hardly allow it even to drop at all, and her boots were 
207:174,29@c   | so thick! much thicker than $PN#A$Miss*Anne's; 
207:174,29['  ]| and, in short, 
207:174,30['  ]| her civility rendered her quite as anxious to be left to 
207:174,31['  ]| walk with $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, as $PN#A$Anne could be, and it was discussed 
207:174,32['  ]| between them with a generosity so polite and so 
207:174,33['  ]| determined, that the others were obliged to settle it for 
207:175,01['  ]| them; $PN#H$Miss*Elliot maintaining that 
207:175,01@h   | $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay had a little 
207:175,02@h   | cold already, 
207:175,02['  ]| and $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot deciding on appeal, that 
207:175,02@i   | his 
207:175,03@i   | cousin $PN#A$Anne's boots were rather the thickest. 
207:175,04['  ]| It was fixed accordingly that $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay should be of 
207:175,05['  ]| the party in the carriage; and they had just reached 
207:175,06['  ]| this point when $PN#A$Anne, as she sat near the window, 
207:175,07['  ]| descried, most decidedly and distinctly, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
207:175,08['  ]| walking down the street. 
207:175,09['  ]| Her start was perceptible only to herself; but she 
207:175,10['  ]| instantly felt that 
207:175,10@a   | she was the greatest simpleton in the 
207:175,11@a   | world, the most unaccountable and absurd! 
207:175,11['  ]| For a few 
207:175,12['  ]| minutes she saw nothing before her.  It was all confusion. 
207:175,13['  ]| She was lost; and when she had scolded back her senses, 
207:175,14['  ]| she found the others still waiting for the carriage, and 
207:175,15['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot (always obliging) just setting off for Union-street 
207:175,16['  ]| on a commission of $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay's. 
207:175,17['  ]| She now felt a great inclination to go to the outer door; 
207:175,18@a   | she wanted to see if it rained.  Why was she to suspect 
207:175,19@a   | herself of another motive?  $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth must be 
207:175,20@a   | out of sight.  She left her seat, she would go, one half 
207:175,21@a   | of her should not be always so much wiser than the 
207:175,22@a   | other half, or always suspecting the other of being worse 
207:175,23@a   | than it was.  She would see if it rained. 
207:175,23['  ]| She was sent 
207:175,24['  ]| back, however, in a moment by the entrance of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
207:175,25['  ]| himself, among a party of gentlemen and 
207:175,26['  ]| ladies, evidently his acquaintance, and whom he must 
207:175,27['  ]| have joined a little below Milsom-street.  
207:175,27@a   | He was more 
207:175,28@a   | obviously struck and confused by the sight of her, than 
207:175,29@a   | she had ever observed before; he looked quite red.
207:175,29['  ]| For 
207:175,30['  ]| the first time, since their renewed acquaintance, she felt 
207:175,31['  ]| that she was betraying the least sensibility of the two. 
207:175,32['  ]| She had the advantage of him, in the preparation of the 
207:175,33['  ]| last few moments.  All the overpowering, blinding, bewildering, 
207:175,34['  ]| first effects of strong surprise were over with her. 
207:175,35['  ]| Still, however, she had enough to feel! 
207:175,35@a   | It was agitation, 
207:175,36@a   | pain, pleasure, a something between delight and misery. 
207:175,37['  ]| He spoke to her, and then turned away.  The character 
207:175,38['  ]| of his manner was embarrassment.  She could not have 
207:176,01['  ]| called it either cold or friendly, or any*thing so certainly 
207:176,02['  ]| as embarrassed. 
207:176,03['  ]| After a short interval, however, he came towards her 
207:176,04['  ]| and spoke again.  Mutual enquiries on common subjects 
207:176,05['  ]| passed; neither of them, probably, much the wiser for 
207:176,06['  ]| what they heard, and $PN#A$Anne continuing fully sensible of his 
207:176,07['  ]| being less at ease than formerly.  They had, by dint of 
207:176,08['  ]| being so very much together, got to speak to each other 
207:176,09['  ]| with a considerable portion of apparent indifference and 
207:176,10['  ]| calmness; but he could not do it now. 
207:176,10@a   | Time had changed 
207:176,11@a   | him, or $PN#M$Louisa had changed him.  There was consciousness 
207:176,12@a   | of some sort or other.  He looked very well, not as 
207:176,13@a   | if he had been suffering in health or spirits, and he talked 
207:176,14@a   | of Uppercross, of the $PN#W1$Musgroves, nay, even of $PN#M$Louisa, and 
207:176,15@a   | had even a momentary look of his own arch significance 
207:176,16@a   | as he named her; but yet it was $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth not 
207:176,17@a   | comfortable, not easy, not able to feign that he was. 
207:176,18['  ]| It did not surprise, but it grieved $PN#A$Anne to observe that 
207:176,19['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth would not know him.  She saw that he saw 
207:176,20['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth, that $PN#H$Elizabeth saw him, that there was complete 
207:176,21['  ]| internal recognition on each side; she was convinced 
207:176,22['  ]| that he was ready to be acknowledged as an acquaintance, 
207:176,23['  ]| expecting it, and she had the pain of seeing her sister 
207:176,24['  ]| turn away with unalterable coldness. 
207:176,25['  ]| $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple's carriage, for which $PN#H$Miss*Elliot was 
207:176,26['  ]| growing very impatient, now drew up; the servant came 
207:176,27['  ]| in to announce it.  It was beginning to rain again, and 
207:176,28['  ]| altogether there was a delay, and a bustle, and a talking 
207:176,29['  ]| which must make all the little crowd in the shop understand 
207:176,30['  ]| that $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple was calling to convey $PN#H$Miss*Elliot. 
207:176,31['  ]| At last $PN#H$Miss*Elliot and her friend, unattended 
207:176,32['  ]| but by the servant, (for there was no cousin returned) 
207:176,33['  ]| were walking off; and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, watching 
207:176,34['  ]| them, turned again to $PN#A$Anne, and by manner, rather than 
207:176,35['  ]| words, was offering his services to her. 
207:176,36[A  ]| "I am much obliged to you," 
207:176,36['  ]| was her answer, 
207:176,36[A  ]| "but 
207:176,37[A  ]| I am not going with them.  The carriage would not 
207:176,38[A  ]| accommodate so many.  I walk.  I prefer walking." 
207:177,01[B  ]| "But it rains." 
207:177,02[A  ]| "Oh! very little.  Nothing that I regard." 
207:177,03['  ]| After a moment's pause he said, 
207:177,03[B  ]| "Though I came only 
207:177,04[B  ]| yesterday, I have equipped myself properly for Bath 
207:177,05[B  ]| already, you see," 
207:177,05['  ]| (pointing to a new umbrella) 
207:177,05[B  ]| "I wish 
207:177,06[B  ]| you would make use of it, if you are determined to walk; 
207:177,07[B  ]| though, I think, it would be more prudent to let me get 
207:177,08[B  ]| you a chair." 
207:177,09['  ]| She was very much obliged to him, but declined it all, 
207:177,10['  ]| repeating her conviction, that the rain would come to 
207:177,11['  ]| nothing at present, and adding, 
207:177,11[A  ]| "I am only waiting for 
207:177,12[A  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  He will be here in a moment, I am sure." 
207:177,13['  ]| She had hardly spoken the words, when $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot 
207:177,14['  ]| walked in.  $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth recollected him perfectly. 
207:177,15['  ]| There was no difference between him and the man who 
207:177,16['  ]| had stood on the steps at Lyme, admiring $PN#A$Anne as she 
207:177,17['  ]| passed, except in the air and look and manner of the 
207:177,18['  ]| privileged relation and friend.  He came in with eagerness, 
207:177,19['  ]| appeared to see and think only of her, apologised 
207:177,20['  ]| for his stay, was grieved to have kept her waiting, and 
207:177,21['  ]| anxious to get her away without further loss of time, 
207:177,22['  ]| and before the rain increased; and in another moment 
207:177,23['  ]| they walked off together, her arm under his, a gentle and 
207:177,24['  ]| embarrassed glance, and a 
207:177,24[A  ]| "good morning to you," 
207:177,24['  ]| being 
207:177,25['  ]| all that she had time for, as she passed away. 
207:177,26['  ]| As soon as they were out of sight, the ladies of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's 
207:177,27['  ]| party began talking of them. 
207:177,28[X  ]| "$PN#I$Mr%*Elliot does not dislike his cousin, I fancy?" 
207:177,29[X  ]| "Oh! no, that is clear enough.  One can guess what 
207:177,30[X  ]| will happen there.  He is always with them; half lives 
207:177,31[X  ]| in the family, I believe.  What a very good-looking 
207:177,32[X  ]| man!" 
207:177,33[X  ]| "Yes, and $PN#ZB$Miss*Atkinson, who dined with him once 
207:177,34[X  ]| at the $PN#ZZM$Wallises, says he is the most agreeable man she 
207:177,35[X  ]| ever was in company with." 
207:177,36[X  ]| "She is pretty, I think; $PN#A$Anne*Elliot; very pretty, 
207:177,37[X  ]| when one comes to look at her.   It is not the fashion to 
207:177,38[X  ]| say so, but I confess I admire her more than her sister." 
207:178,01[X  ]| "Oh! so do I." 
207:178,02[X  ]| "And so do I.  No comparison.  But the men are all 
207:178,03[X  ]| wild after $PN#H$Miss*Elliot.  $PN#A$Anne is too delicate for them." 
207:178,04['  ]| $PN#A$Anne would have been particularly obliged to her 
207:178,05['  ]| cousin, if he would have walked by her side all the way 
207:178,06['  ]| to Camden-place, without saying a word.  She had never 
207:178,07['  ]| found it so difficult to listen to him, though nothing could 
207:178,08['  ]| exceed his solicitude and care, and though his subjects 
207:178,09['  ]| were principally such as were wont to be always interesting 
207:178,10['  ]| ~~ praise, warm, just, and discriminating, of $PN#K$Lady*Russell, 
207:178,11['  ]| and insinuations highly rational against $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay.  But 
207:178,12['  ]| just now she could think only of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth. 
207:178,13['  ]| She could not understand his present feelings, whether 
207:178,14['  ]| he were really suffering much from disappointment or 
207:178,15['  ]| not; and till that point were settled, she could not be 
207:178,16['  ]| quite herself. 
207:178,17@a   | She hoped to be wise and reasonable in time; but 
207:178,18@a   | alas! alas! she must confess to herself that she was not 
207:178,19@a   | wise yet. 
207:178,20@a   | Another circumstance very essential for her to know, 
207:178,21@a   | was how long he meant to be in Bath; he had not 
207:178,22@a   | mentioned it, or she could not recollect it.  He might be 
207:178,23@a   | only passing through.  But it was more probable that he 
207:178,24@a   | should be come to stay.  In that case, so liable as every*body 
207:178,25@a   | was to meet every*body in Bath, $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
207:178,26@a   | would in all likelihood see him somewhere. ~~ Would she 
207:178,27@a   | recollect him?  How would it all be? 
207:178,28@a   | She had already been obliged to tell $PN#K$Lady*Russell that 
207:178,29@a   | $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove was to marry $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick.  It had 
207:178,30@a   | cost her something to encounter $PN#K$Lady*Russell's surprise; 
207:178,31@a   | and now, if she were by any chance to be thrown into 
207:178,32@a   | company with $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, her imperfect knowledge 
207:178,33@a   | of the matter might add another shade of prejudice 
207:178,34@a   | against him. 
207:178,35['  ]| The following morning $PN#A$Anne was out with her friend, 
207:178,36['  ]| and for the first hour, in an incessant and fearful sort of 
207:178,37['  ]| watch for him in vain; but at last, in returning down 
207:178,38['  ]| Pulteney-street, she distinguished him on the right*hand 
207:179,01['  ]| pavement at such a distance as to have him in view the 
207:179,02['  ]| greater part of the street. 
207:179,02@a   | There were many other men 
207:179,03@a   | about him, many groups walking the same way, but there 
207:179,04@a   | was no mistaking him. 
207:179,04['  ]| She looked instinctively at $PN#K$Lady*Russell; 
207:179,05['  ]| but not from any mad idea of her recognising 
207:179,06['  ]| him so soon as she did herself. 
207:179,06@a   | No, it was not to be supposed 
207:179,07@a   | that $PN#K$Lady*Russell would perceive him till they were 
207:179,08@a   | nearly opposite. 
207:179,08['  ]| She looked at her however, from time 
207:179,09['  ]| to time, anxiously; and when the moment approached 
207:179,10['  ]| which must point him out, though not daring to look 
207:179,11['  ]| again (for her own countenance she knew was unfit to be 
207:179,12['  ]| seen), she was yet perfectly conscious of 
207:179,12@a   | $PN#K$Lady*Russell's 
207:179,13@a   | eyes being turned exactly in the direction of him, of 
207:179,14@a   | her being in short intently observing him.  She could 
207:179,15@a   | thoroughly comprehend the sort of fascination he must 
207:179,16@a   | possess over $PN#K$Lady*Russell's mind, the difficulty it must 
207:179,17@a   | be for her to withdraw her eyes, the astonishment she 
207:179,18@a   | must be feeling that eight or nine years should have 
207:179,19@a   | passed over him, and in foreign climes and in active 
207:179,20@a   | service too, without robbing him of one personal grace! 
207:179,21['  ]| At last, $PN#K$Lady*Russell drew back her head. ~~ 
207:179,21@a   | "Now, 
207:179,22@a   | how would she speak of him?" 
207:179,23[K  ]| "You will wonder," 
207:179,23['  ]| said she, 
207:179,23[K  ]| "what has been fixing 
207:179,24[K  ]| my eye so long; but I was looking after some window-curtains, 
207:179,25[K  ]| which $PN#ZA$Lady*Alicia and $PN#ZM$Mrs%*Frankland were 
207:179,26[K  ]| telling me of last night.  They described the drawing-room 
207:179,27[K  ]| window-curtains of one of the houses on this side 
207:179,28[K  ]| of the way, and this part of the street, as being the handsomest 
207:179,29[K  ]| and best hung of any in Bath, but could not 
207:179,30[K  ]| recollect the exact number, and I have been trying to 
207:179,31[K  ]| find out which it could be; but I confess I can see no 
207:179,32[K  ]| curtains hereabouts that answer their description." 
207:179,33['  ]| $PN#A$Anne sighed and blushed and smiled, in pity and disdain, 
207:179,34['  ]| either at her friend or herself. ~~ The part which 
207:179,35['  ]| provoked her most, was that in all this waste of foresight 
207:179,36['  ]| and caution, she should have lost the right moment for 
207:179,37['  ]| seeing whether he saw them. 
207:179,38['  ]| A day or two passed without producing any*thing. ~~ 
207:180,01['  ]| The theatre or the rooms, where he was most likely to 
207:180,02['  ]| be, were not fashionable enough for the $PN#G1$Elliots, whose 
207:180,03['  ]| evening amusements were solely in the elegant stupidity 
207:180,04['  ]| of private parties, in which they were getting more and 
207:180,05['  ]| more engaged; and $PN#A$Anne, wearied of such a state of 
207:180,06['  ]| stagnation, sick of knowing nothing, and fancying herself 
207:180,07['  ]| stronger because her strength was not tried, was quite 
207:180,08['  ]| impatient for the concert evening.  It was a concert for 
207:180,09['  ]| the benefit of a person patronised by $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple. 
207:180,10['  ]| Of course they must attend.  It was really expected to 
207:180,11['  ]| be a good one, and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was very fond 
207:180,12['  ]| of music.  If she could only have a few minutes conversation 
207:180,13['  ]| with him again, she fancied she should be 
207:180,14['  ]| satisfied; and as to the power of addressing him she felt 
207:180,15['  ]| all over courage if the opportunity occurred.  $PN#H$Elizabeth 
207:180,16['  ]| had turned from him, $PN#K$Lady*Russell overlooked him; her 
207:180,17['  ]| nerves were strengthened by these circumstances; she 
207:180,18['  ]| felt that she owed him attention. 
207:180,19['  ]| She had once partly promised $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith to spend the 
207:180,20['  ]| evening with her; but in a short hurried call she excused 
207:180,21['  ]| herself and put it off, with the more decided promise of 
207:180,22['  ]| a longer visit on the morrow.  $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith gave a most 
207:180,23['  ]| good-humoured acquiescence. 
207:180,24[F  ]| "By all means," 
207:180,24['  ]| said she; 
207:180,24[F  ]| "only tell me all about it, 
207:180,25[F  ]| when you do come.  Who is your party?" 
207:180,26['  ]| $PN#A$Anne named them all.  $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith made no reply; 
207:180,27['  ]| but when she was leaving her, said, and with an expression 
207:180,28['  ]| half serious, half arch, 
207:180,28[F  ]| "Well, I heartily wish your 
207:180,29[F  ]| concert may answer; and do not fail me to-morrow if 
207:180,30[F  ]| you can come; for I begin to have a foreboding that 
207:180,31[F  ]| I may not have many more visits from you." 
207:180,32['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was startled and confused, but after standing in 
207:180,33['  ]| a moment's suspense, was obliged, and not sorry to be 
207:180,34['  ]| obliged, to hurry away. 
208:181,01['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter, his two daughters, and $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay, were 
208:181,02['  ]| the earliest of all their party, at the rooms in the evening; 
208:181,03['  ]| and as $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple must be waited for, they took 
208:181,04['  ]| their station by one of the fires in the octagon*room.  But 
208:181,05['  ]| hardly were they so settled, when the door opened again, 
208:181,06['  ]| and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth walked in alone.  $PN#A$Anne was the 
208:181,07['  ]| nearest to him, and making yet a little advance, she 
208:181,08['  ]| instantly spoke.  He was preparing only to bow and pass 
208:181,09['  ]| on, but her gentle 
208:181,09[A  ]| "How do you do?" 
208:181,09['  ]| brought him out 
208:181,10['  ]| of the straight line to stand near her, and make enquiries 
208:181,11['  ]| in return, in spite of the formidable father and sister in 
208:181,12['  ]| the back*ground.  Their being in the back*ground was 
208:181,13['  ]| a support to $PN#A$Anne; she knew nothing of their looks, and 
208:181,14['  ]| felt equal to everything which she believed right to be done. 
208:181,15['  ]| While they were speaking, a whispering between her 
208:181,16['  ]| father and $PN#H$Elizabeth caught her ear.  She could not 
208:181,17['  ]| distinguish, but she must guess the subject; and on 
208:181,18['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's making a distant bow, she comprehended 
208:181,19['  ]| that her father had judged so well as to give him 
208:181,20['  ]| that simple acknowledgment of acquaintance, and she 
208:181,21['  ]| was just in time by a side glance to see a slight curtsey 
208:181,22['  ]| from $PN#H$Elizabeth herself. 
208:181,22@a   | This, though late and reluctant 
208:181,23@a   | and ungracious, was yet better than nothing, 
208:181,23['  ]| and her 
208:181,24['  ]| spirits improved. 
208:181,25['  ]| After talking however of the weather and Bath and 
208:181,26['  ]| the concert, their conversation began to flag, and so little 
208:181,27['  ]| was said at last, that she was expecting him to go every 
208:181,28['  ]| moment; 
208:181,28@a   | but he did not; he seemed in no hurry to 
208:181,29@a   | leave her; 
208:181,29['  ]| and presently with renewed spirit, with a little 
208:181,30['  ]| smile, a little glow, he said, 
208:181,31[B  ]| "I have hardly seen you since our day at Lyme.  I am 
208:181,32[B  ]| afraid you must have suffered from the shock, and the 
208:181,33[B  ]| more from its not overpowering you at the time." 
208:182,01['  ]| She assured him that she had not. 
208:182,02[B  ]| "It was a frightful hour," 
208:182,02['  ]| said he, 
208:182,02[B  ]| "a frightful day!" 
208:182,03['  ]| and he passed his hand across his eyes, as if the remembrance 
208:182,04['  ]| were still too painful; but in a moment half 
208:182,05['  ]| smiling again, added, 
208:182,05[B  ]| "The day has produced some effects 
208:182,06[B  ]| however ~~ has had some consequences which must be considered 
208:182,07[B  ]| as the very reverse of frightful. ~~ When you had 
208:182,08[B  ]| the presence of mind to suggest that $PN#ZD$Benwick would be 
208:182,09[B  ]| the properest person to fetch a surgeon, you could have 
208:182,10[B  ]| little idea of his being eventually one of those most 
208:182,11[B  ]| concerned in her recovery." 
208:182,12[A  ]| "Certainly I could have none.  But it appears ~~ I 
208:182,13[A  ]| should hope it would be a very happy match.  There are 
208:182,14[A  ]| on both sides good principles and good temper." 
208:182,15[B  ]| "Yes," 
208:182,15['  ]| said he, looking not exactly forward ~~ 
208:182,15[B  ]| "but 
208:182,16[B  ]| there I think ends the resemblance.  With all my soul 
208:182,17[B  ]| I wish them happy, and rejoice over every circumstance 
208:182,18[B  ]| in favour of it.  They have no difficulties to contend with 
208:182,19[B  ]| at home, no opposition, no caprice, no delays. ~~ The $PN#W1$Musgroves 
208:182,20[B  ]| are behaving like themselves, most honourably 
208:182,21[B  ]| and kindly, only anxious with true parental hearts to 
208:182,22[B  ]| promote their daughter's comfort.  All this is much, very 
208:182,23[B  ]| much in favour of their happiness; more than perhaps ~" 
208:182,24['  ]| He stopped. 
208:182,24@a   | A sudden recollection seemed to occur, 
208:182,25['  ]| and to give him some taste of that emotion which was 
208:182,26['  ]| reddening $PN#A$Anne's cheeks and fixing her eyes on the 
208:182,27['  ]| ground. ~~ After clearing his throat, however, he proceeded 
208:182,28['  ]| thus, 
208:182,29[B  ]| "I confess that I do think there is a disparity, too 
208:182,30[B  ]| great a disparity, and in a point no less essential than 
208:182,31[B  ]| mind. ~~ I regard $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove as a very amiable, 
208:182,32[B  ]| sweet-tempered girl, and not deficient in understanding; 
208:182,33[B  ]| but $PN#ZD$Benwick is something more.  He is a clever man, 
208:182,34[B  ]| a reading man ~~ and I confess that I do consider his 
208:182,35[B  ]| attaching himself to her, with some surprise.  Had it 
208:182,36[B  ]| been the effect of gratitude, had he learnt to love her, 
208:182,37[B  ]| because he believed her to be preferring him, it would 
208:182,38[B  ]| have been another thing.  But I have no reason to suppose 
208:183,01[B  ]| it so.  It seems, on the contrary, to have been 
208:183,02[B  ]| a perfectly spontaneous, untaught feeling on his side, and 
208:183,03[B  ]| this surprises me.  A man like him, in his situation! 
208:183,04[B  ]| With a heart pierced, wounded, almost broken!  $PN#ZO$Fanny*Harville 
208:183,05[B  ]| was a very superior creature; and his attachment 
208:183,06[B  ]| to her was indeed attachment.  A man does not 
208:183,07[B  ]| recover from such a devotion of the heart to such a 
208:183,08[B  ]| woman! ~~ He ought not ~~ he does not." 
208:183,09['  ]| Either from the consciousness, however, that his friend 
208:183,10['  ]| had recovered, or from some other consciousness, he went 
208:183,11['  ]| no farther; and $PN#A$Anne, who, in spite of the agitated voice 
208:183,12['  ]| in which the latter part had been uttered, and in spite 
208:183,13['  ]| of all the various noises of the room, the almost ceaseless 
208:183,14['  ]| slam of the door, and ceaseless buzz of persons walking 
208:183,15['  ]| through, had distinguished every word, was struck, gratified, 
208:183,16['  ]| confused, and beginning to breathe very quick, and 
208:183,17['  ]| feel an hundred things in a moment.  It was impossible 
208:183,18['  ]| for her to enter on such a subject; and yet, after a pause, 
208:183,19['  ]| feeling the necessity of speaking, and having not the 
208:183,20['  ]| smallest wish for a total change, she only deviated so far 
208:183,21['  ]| as to say, 
208:183,22[A  ]| "You were a good while at Lyme, I think?" 
208:183,23[B  ]| "About a fortnight.  I could not leave it till $PN#M$Louisa's 
208:183,24[B  ]| doing well was quite ascertained.  I had been too deeply 
208:183,25[B  ]| concerned in the mischief to be soon at peace.  It had 
208:183,26[B  ]| been my doing ~~ solely mine.  She would not have been 
208:183,27[B  ]| obstinate if I had not been weak.  The country round 
208:183,28[B  ]| Lyme is very fine.  I walked and rode a great deal; and 
208:183,29[B  ]| the more I saw, the more I found to admire." 
208:183,30[A  ]| "I should very much like to see Lyme again," 
208:183,30['  ]| said 
208:183,31['  ]| $PN#A$Anne. 
208:183,32[B  ]| "Indeed!  I should not have supposed that you could 
208:183,33[B  ]| have found any*thing in Lyme to inspire such a feeling. 
208:183,34[B  ]| The horror and distress you were involved in ~~ the stretch 
208:183,35[B  ]| of mind, the wear of spirits! ~~ I should have thought 
208:183,36[B  ]| your last impressions of Lyme must have been strong 
208:183,37[B  ]| disgust." 
208:183,38[A  ]| "The last few hours were certainly very painful," 
208:184,01['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne: 
208:184,01[A  ]| "but when pain is over, the remembrance 
208:184,02[A  ]| of it often becomes a pleasure.  One does not love a place 
208:184,03[A  ]| the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been all 
208:184,04[A  ]| suffering, nothing but suffering ~~ which was by no means 
208:184,05[A  ]| the case at Lyme.  We were only in anxiety and distress 
208:184,06[A  ]| during the last two hours; and, previously, there had 
208:184,07[A  ]| been a great deal of enjoyment.  So much novelty and 
208:184,08[A  ]| beauty!  I have travelled so little, that every fresh place 
208:184,09[A  ]| would be interesting to me ~~ but there is real beauty at 
208:184,10[A  ]| Lyme:  and in short" 
208:184,10['  ]| (with a faint blush at some 
208:184,11['  ]| recollections) 
208:184,11[A  ]| "altogether my impressions of the place 
208:184,12[A  ]| are very agreeable." 
208:184,13['  ]| As she ceased, the entrance door opened again, and 
208:184,14['  ]| the very party appeared for whom they were waiting. 
208:184,15[X  ]| "$PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple, $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple," 
208:184,15['  ]| was the rejoicing 
208:184,16['  ]| sound; and with all the eagerness compatible with 
208:184,17['  ]| anxious elegance, $PN#G$Sir*Walter and his two ladies stepped 
208:184,18['  ]| forward to meet her.  $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple and $PN#ZH$Miss*Carteret, 
208:184,19['  ]| escorted by $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot and $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis, who had happened 
208:184,20['  ]| to arrive nearly at the same instant, advanced into 
208:184,21['  ]| the room.  The others joined them, and it was a group 
208:184,22['  ]| in which $PN#A$Anne found herself also necessarily included. 
208:184,23['  ]| She was divided from $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth.  Their interesting, 
208:184,24['  ]| almost too interesting conversation must be broken 
208:184,25['  ]| up for a time; but slight was the penance compared 
208:184,26['  ]| with the happiness which brought it on!  She had learnt, 
208:184,27['  ]| in the last ten minutes, more of his feelings towards 
208:184,28['  ]| $PN#M$Louisa, more of all his feelings, than she dared to think 
208:184,29['  ]| of! and she gave herself up to the demands of the party, 
208:184,30['  ]| to the needful civilities of the moment, with exquisite, 
208:184,31['  ]| though agitated sensations.  She was in good*humour 
208:184,32['  ]| with all.  She had received ideas which disposed her to 
208:184,33['  ]| be courteous and kind to all, and to pity every*one, as 
208:184,34['  ]| being less happy than herself. 
208:184,35['  ]| The delightful emotions were a little subdued, when, 
208:184,36['  ]| on stepping back from the group, to be joined again by 
208:184,37['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, she saw that he was gone.  She was 
208:184,38['  ]| just in time to see him turn into the concert*room. 
208:184,38@a   | He 
208:185,01@a   | was gone ~~ he had disappeared: 
208:185,01['  ]| she felt a moment's 
208:185,02['  ]| regret.  But 
208:185,02@a   | "they should meet again.  He would look 
208:185,03@a   | for her ~~ he would find her out long before the evening 
208:185,04@a   | were over ~~ and at present, perhaps, it was as well to be 
208:185,05@a   | asunder.  She was in need of a little interval for recollection." 
208:185,06@a   | 
208:185,07['  ]| Upon $PN#K$Lady*Russell's appearance soon afterwards, the 
208:185,08['  ]| whole party was collected, and all that remained, was to 
208:185,09['  ]| marshal themselves, and proceed into the concert*room; 
208:185,10['  ]| and be of all the consequence in their power, draw as 
208:185,11['  ]| many eyes, excite as many whispers, and disturb as many 
208:185,12['  ]| people as they could. 
208:185,13['  ]| Very, very happy were both $PN#H$Elizabeth and $PN#A$Anne*Elliot 
208:185,14['  ]| as they walked in.  $PN#H$Elizabeth, arm in arm with $PN#ZH$Miss*Carteret, 
208:185,15['  ]| and looking on the broad back of the $PN#V$dowager*Viscountess*Dalrymple 
208:185,16['  ]| before her, had nothing to wish 
208:185,17['  ]| for which did not seem within her reach; and $PN#A$Anne ~~ 
208:185,18['  ]| but it would be an insult to the nature of $PN#A$Anne's felicity, 
208:185,19['  ]| to draw any comparison between it and her sister's; the 
208:185,20['  ]| origin of one all selfish vanity, of the other all generous 
208:185,21['  ]| attachment. 
208:185,22['  ]| $PN#A$Anne saw nothing, thought nothing of the brilliancy of 
208:185,23['  ]| the room.  Her happiness was from within.  Her eyes were 
208:185,24['  ]| bright, and her cheeks glowed, ~~ but she knew nothing 
208:185,25['  ]| about it.  She was thinking only of the last half*hour, 
208:185,26['  ]| and as they passed to their seats, her mind took a hasty 
208:185,27['  ]| range over it. 
208:185,27@a   | His choice of subjects, his expressions, 
208:185,28@a   | and still more his manner and look, had been such as 
208:185,29@a   | she could see in only one light.  His opinion of $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove's 
208:185,30@a   | inferiority, an opinion which he had seemed 
208:185,31@a   | solicitous to give, his wonder at $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, his 
208:185,32@a   | feelings as to a first, strong attachment, ~~ sentences begun 
208:185,33@a   | which he could not finish ~~ his half averted eyes, and more 
208:185,34@a   | than half expressive glance, ~~ all, all declared that he had 
208:185,35@a   | a heart returning to her at least; that anger, resentment, 
208:185,36@a   | avoidance, were no more; and that they were succeeded, 
208:185,37@a   | not merely by friendship and regard, but by the tenderness 
208:185,38@a   | of the past; yes, some share of the tenderness of 
208:186,01@a   | the past.  She could not contemplate the change as 
208:186,02@a   | implying less. ~~ He must love her. 
208:186,03['  ]| These were thoughts, with their attendant visions, 
208:186,04['  ]| which occupied and flurried her too much to leave her 
208:186,05['  ]| any power of observation; and she passed along the 
208:186,06['  ]| room without having a glimpse of him, without even 
208:186,07['  ]| trying to discern him.  When their places were determined 
208:186,08['  ]| on, and they were all properly arranged, she looked 
208:186,09['  ]| round to see if he should happen to be in the same part 
208:186,10['  ]| of the room, but he was not, her eye could not reach 
208:186,11['  ]| him; and the concert being just opening, she must consent 
208:186,12['  ]| for a time to be happy in an humbler way. 
208:186,13['  ]| The party was divided, and disposed of on two contiguous 
208:186,14['  ]| benches:  $PN#A$Anne was among those on the foremost, 
208:186,15['  ]| and $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot had mano*euvred so well, with the assistance 
208:186,16['  ]| of his friend $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis, as to have a seat by her. 
208:186,17['  ]| $PN#H$Miss*Elliot, surrounded by her cousins, and the principal 
208:186,18['  ]| object of $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis's gallantry, was quite contented. 
208:186,19['  ]| $PN#A$Anne's mind was in a most favourable state for the 
208:186,20['  ]| entertainment of the evening:  it was just occupation 
208:186,21['  ]| enough:  she had feelings for the tender, spirits for the 
208:186,22['  ]| gay, attention for the scientific, and patience for the wearisome; 
208:186,23['  ]| and had never liked a concert better, at least 
208:186,24['  ]| during the first act.  Towards the close of it, in the 
208:186,25['  ]| interval succeeding an Italian song, she explained the 
208:186,26['  ]| words of the song to $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot. ~~ They had a concert*bill 
208:186,27['  ]| between them. 
208:186,28[A  ]| "This," 
208:186,28['  ]| said she, 
208:186,28[A  ]| "is nearly the sense, or rather the 
208:186,29[A  ]| meaning of the words, for certainly the sense of an Italian 
208:186,30[A  ]| love-song must not be talked of, ~~ but it is as nearly the 
208:186,31[A  ]| meaning as I can give; for I do not pretend to understand 
208:186,32[A  ]| the language.  I am a very poor Italian scholar." 
208:186,33[I  ]| "Yes, yes, I see you are.  I see you know nothing of 
208:186,34[I  ]| the matter.  You have only knowledge enough of the 
208:186,35[I  ]| language, to translate at sight these inverted, transposed, 
208:186,36[I  ]| curtailed Italian lines, into clear, comprehensible, elegant 
208:186,37[I  ]| English.  You need not say anything more of your 
208:186,38[I  ]| ignorance. ~~ Here is complete proof." 
208:187,01[A  ]| "I will not oppose such kind politeness; but I should 
208:187,02[A  ]| be sorry to be examined by a real proficient." 
208:187,03[I  ]| "I have not had the pleasure of visiting in Camden-place 
208:187,04[I  ]| so long," 
208:187,04['  ]| replied he, 
208:187,04[I  ]| "without knowing something 
208:187,05[I  ]| of $PN#A$Miss*Anne*Elliot; and I do regard her as one who is 
208:187,06[I  ]| too modest, for the world in general to be aware of half 
208:187,07[I  ]| her accomplishments, and too highly accomplished for 
208:187,08[I  ]| modesty to be natural in any other woman." 
208:187,09[A  ]| "For shame! for shame! ~~ this is too much of flattery. 
208:187,10[A  ]| I forget what we are to have next," 
208:187,10['  ]| turning to the bill. 
208:187,11[I  ]| "Perhaps," 
208:187,11['  ]| said $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, speaking low, 
208:187,11[I  ]| "I have had 
208:187,12[I  ]| a longer acquaintance with your character than you are 
208:187,13[I  ]| aware of." 
208:187,14[A  ]| "Indeed! ~~ How so?  You can have been acquainted 
208:187,15[A  ]| with it only since I came to Bath, excepting as you might 
208:187,16[A  ]| hear me previously spoken of in my own family." 
208:187,17[I  ]| "I knew you by report long before you came to Bath. 
208:187,18[I  ]| I had heard you described by those who knew you 
208:187,19[I  ]| intimately.  I have been acquainted with you by character 
208:187,20[I  ]| many years.  Your person, your disposition, accomplishments, 
208:187,21[I  ]| manner ~~ they were all described, they were all 
208:187,22[I  ]| present to me." 
208:187,23['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot was not disappointed in the interest he 
208:187,24['  ]| hoped to raise.  No*one can withstand the charm of such 
208:187,25['  ]| a mystery.  To have been described long ago to a recent 
208:187,26['  ]| acquaintance, by nameless people, is irresistible; and 
208:187,27['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was all curiosity.  She wondered, and questioned 
208:187,28['  ]| him eagerly ~~ but in vain.  He delighted in being asked, 
208:187,29['  ]| but he would not tell. 
208:187,30[I  ]| "No, no ~~ some time or other perhaps, but not now. 
208:187,31[I  ]| He would mention no names now; but such, he could 
208:187,32[I  ]| assure her, had been the fact.  He had many years ago 
208:187,33[I  ]| received such a description of $PN#A$Miss*Anne*Elliot, as had 
208:187,34[I  ]| inspired him with the highest idea of her merit, and 
208:187,35[I  ]| excited the warmest curiosity to know her." 
208:187,36['  ]| $PN#A$Anne could think of no*one so likely to have spoken 
208:187,37['  ]| with partiality of her many years ago, as the $PN#ZZO$Mr%*Wentworth, 
208:187,38['  ]| of Monkford, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's brother.  He 
208:188,01['  ]| might have been in $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's company, but she had 
208:188,02['  ]| not courage to ask the question. 
208:188,03[I  ]| "The name of $PN#A$Anne*Elliot," 
208:188,03['  ]| said he, 
208:188,03[I  ]| "has long had 
208:188,04[I  ]| an interesting sound to me.  Very long has it possessed 
208:188,05[I  ]| a charm over my fancy; and, if I dared, I would breathe 
208:188,06[I  ]| my wishes that the name might never change." 
208:188,07['  ]| Such she believed were his words; but scarcely had 
208:188,08['  ]| she received their sound, than her attention was caught 
208:188,09['  ]| by other sounds immediately behind her, which rendered 
208:188,10['  ]| every*thing else trivial.  Her father and $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple 
208:188,11['  ]| were speaking. 
208:188,12[G  ]| "A well-looking man," 
208:188,12['  ]| said $PN#G$Sir*Walter, 
208:188,12[G  ]| "a very well-looking 
208:188,13[G  ]| man." 
208:188,14[V  ]| "A very fine young man indeed!" 
208:188,14['  ]| said $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple. 
208:188,15[V  ]| "More air than one often sees in Bath. ~~ Irish, 
208:188,16[V  ]| I dare say." 
208:188,17[G  ]| "No, I just know his name.  A bowing acquaintance. 
208:188,18[G  ]| $PN#B$Wentworth ~~ $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth of the navy.  His sister 
208:188,19[G  ]| married my tenant in Somersetshire, ~~ the $PN#D$Croft, who 
208:188,20[G  ]| rents Kellynch." 
208:188,21['  ]| Before $PN#G$Sir*Walter had reached this point, $PN#A$Anne's eyes 
208:188,22['  ]| had caught the right direction, and distinguished $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
208:188,23['  ]| standing among a cluster of men at a little 
208:188,24['  ]| distance.  As her eyes fell on him, his seemed to be 
208:188,25['  ]| withdrawn from her. 
208:188,25@a   | It had that appearance.  It seemed 
208:188,26@a   | as if she had been one moment too late; 
208:188,26['  ]| and as long as 
208:188,27['  ]| she dared observe, he did not look again:  but the performance 
208:188,28['  ]| was re-commencing, and she was forced to seem 
208:188,29['  ]| to restore her attention to the orchestra, and look straight 
208:188,30['  ]| forward. 
208:188,31['  ]| When she could give another glance, he had moved 
208:188,32['  ]| away.  He could not have come nearer to her if he would; 
208:188,33['  ]| she was so surrounded and shut in:  but she would rather 
208:188,34['  ]| have caught his eye. 
208:188,35['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's speech too distressed her.  She had no 
208:188,36['  ]| longer any inclination to talk to him.  She wished him 
208:188,37['  ]| not so near her. 
208:188,38['  ]| The first act was over.  Now she hoped for some 
208:189,01['  ]| beneficial change; and, after a period of nothing-saying 
208:189,02['  ]| amongst the party, some of them did decide on going in 
208:189,03['  ]| quest of tea.  $PN#A$Anne was one of the few who did not 
208:189,04['  ]| choose to move.  She remained in her seat, and so did 
208:189,05['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell; but she had the pleasure of getting rid 
208:189,06['  ]| of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot; and she did not mean, whatever she might 
208:189,07['  ]| feel on $PN#K$Lady*Russell's account, to shrink from conversation 
208:189,08['  ]| with $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, if he gave her the opportunity. 
208:189,09['  ]| She was persuaded by $PN#K$Lady*Russell's countenance 
208:189,10['  ]| that she had seen him. 
208:189,11['  ]| He did not come however.  $PN#A$Anne sometimes fancied 
208:189,12['  ]| she discerned him at a distance, but he never came.  The 
208:189,13['  ]| anxious interval wore away unproductively.  The others 
208:189,14['  ]| returned, the room filled again, benches were reclaimed 
208:189,15['  ]| and re-possessed, and another hour of pleasure or of 
208:189,16['  ]| penance was to be set out, another hour of music was to 
208:189,17['  ]| give delight or the gapes, as real or affected taste for it 
208:189,18['  ]| prevailed.  To $PN#A$Anne, it chiefly wore the prospect of an 
208:189,19['  ]| hour of agitation.  She could not quit that room in peace 
208:189,20['  ]| without seeing $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth once more, without 
208:189,21['  ]| the interchange of one friendly look. 
208:189,22['  ]| In re-settling themselves, there were now many changes, 
208:189,23['  ]| the result of which was favourable for her.  $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis 
208:189,24['  ]| declined sitting down again, and $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot was invited 
208:189,25['  ]| by $PN#H$Elizabeth and $PN#ZH$Miss*Carteret, in a manner not to 
208:189,26['  ]| be refused, to sit between them; and by some other 
208:189,27['  ]| removals, and a little scheming of her own, $PN#A$Anne was 
208:189,28['  ]| enabled to place herself much nearer the end of the bench 
208:189,29['  ]| than she had been before, much more within reach of 
208:189,30['  ]| a passer-by.  She could not do so, without comparing 
208:189,31['  ]| herself with $PN#Z2$Miss*Larolles, the inimitable $PN#Z2$Miss*Larolles, ~~ 
208:189,32['  ]| but still she did it, and not with much happier effect; 
208:189,33['  ]| though by what seemed prosperity in the shape of an 
208:189,34['  ]| early abdication in her next neighbours, she found herself 
208:189,35['  ]| at the very end of the bench before the concert closed. 
208:189,36['  ]| Such was her situation, with a vacant space at hand, 
208:189,37['  ]| when $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was again in sight.  She saw 
208:189,38['  ]| him not far off.  He saw her too; yet he looked grave, 
208:190,01['  ]| and seemed irresolute, and only by very slow degrees 
208:190,02['  ]| came at last near enough to speak to her.  She felt that 
208:190,03@a   | something must be the matter.  The change was indubitable. 
208:190,04@a   | The difference between his present air and what it 
208:190,05@a   | had been in the octagon*room was strikingly great. ~~ Why 
208:190,06@a   | was it?  She thought of her father ~~ of $PN#K$Lady*Russell. 
208:190,07@a   | Could there have been any unpleasant glances?  He 
208:190,08@a   | began by speaking of the concert, gravely; more like 
208:190,09@a   | the $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth of Uppercross; owned himself 
208:190,10@a   | disappointed, had expected better singing; and, in short, 
208:190,11@a   | must confess that he should not be sorry when it was 
208:190,12@a   | over. 
208:190,12['  ]| $PN#A$Anne replied, and spoke in defence of the performance 
208:190,13['  ]| so well, and yet in allowance for his feelings, 
208:190,14['  ]| so pleasantly, that his countenance improved, and he 
208:190,15['  ]| replied again with almost a smile.  They talked for a few 
208:190,16['  ]| minutes more; 
208:190,16@a   | the improvement held; he even looked 
208:190,17@a   | down towards the bench, as if he saw a place on it well 
208:190,18@a   | worth occupying; 
208:190,18['  ]| when, at that moment, a touch on her 
208:190,19['  ]| shoulder obliged $PN#A$Anne to turn round. ~~ It came from 
208:190,20['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  He begged her pardon, but she must be 
208:190,21['  ]| applied to, to explain Italian again. 
208:190,21@i   | $PN#ZH$Miss*Carteret was 
208:190,22@i   | very anxious to have a general idea of what was next 
208:190,23@i   | to be sung. 
208:190,23['  ]| $PN#A$Anne could not refuse; but never had she 
208:190,24['  ]| sacrificed to politeness with a more suffering spirit. 
208:190,25['  ]| A few minutes, though as few as possible, were inevitably 
208:190,26['  ]| consumed; and when her own mistress again, when 
208:190,27['  ]| able to turn and look as she had done before, she found 
208:190,28['  ]| herself accosted by $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, in a reserved yet 
208:190,29['  ]| hurried sort of farewell. 
208:190,29[B  ]| "He must wish her good night. 
208:190,30[B  ]| He was going ~~ he should get home as fast as he could." 
208:190,31[A  ]| "Is not this song worth staying for?" 
208:190,31['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, 
208:190,32['  ]| suddenly struck by an idea which made her yet more 
208:190,33['  ]| anxious to be encouraging. 
208:190,34[B  ]| "No!" 
208:190,34['  ]| he replied impressively, 
208:190,34[B  ]| "there is nothing 
208:190,35[B  ]| worth my staying for;" 
208:190,35['  ]| and he was gone directly. 
208:190,36@a   | Jealousy of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot!  It was the only intelligible 
208:190,37@a   | motive.  $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth jealous of her affection! 
208:190,38@a   | Could she have believed it a week ago ~~ three hours ago! 
208:191,01['  ]| For a moment the gratification was exquisite.  But alas! 
208:191,02['  ]| there were very different thoughts to succeed. 
208:191,02@a   | How was 
208:191,03@a   | such jealousy to be quieted?  How was the truth to 
208:191,04@a   | reach him?  How, in all the peculiar disadvantages of 
208:191,05@a   | their respective situations, would he ever learn her real 
208:191,06@a   | sentiments?  It was misery to think of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's 
208:191,07@a   | attentions. ~~ Their evil was incalculable. 
209:192,01['  ]| $PN#A$Anne recollected with pleasure the next morning her 
209:192,02['  ]| promise of going to $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith; meaning that it should 
209:192,03['  ]| engage her from home at the time when $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot would 
209:192,04['  ]| be most likely to call; for to avoid $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot was almost 
209:192,05['  ]| a first object. 
209:192,06['  ]| She felt a great deal of good*will towards him. 
209:192,06@a   | In 
209:192,07@a   | spite of the mischief of his attentions, she owed him 
209:192,08@a   | gratitude and regard, perhaps compassion.  She could not 
209:192,09@a   | help thinking much of the extraordinary circumstances 
209:192,10@a   | attending their acquaintance; of the right which he 
209:192,11@a   | seemed to have to interest her, by every*thing in situation, 
209:192,12@a   | by his own sentiments, by his early prepossession. 
209:192,13@a   | It was altogether very extraordinary. ~~ Flattering, but 
209:192,14@a   | painful.  There was much to regret.  How she might 
209:192,15@a   | have felt, had there been no $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth in the 
209:192,16@a   | case, was not worth enquiry; for there was a $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth: 
209:192,17@a   | and be the conclusion of the present suspense 
209:192,18@a   | good or bad, her affection would be his for*ever. 
209:192,19@a   | Their union, 
209:192,19['  ]| she believed, 
209:192,19@a   | could not divide her more from 
209:192,20@a   | other men, than their final separation. 
209:192,21['  ]| Prettier musings of high-wrought love and eternal constancy, 
209:192,22['  ]| could never have passed along the streets of 
209:192,23['  ]| Bath, than $PN#A$Anne was sporting with from Camden-place 
209:192,24['  ]| to Westgate-buildings.  It was almost enough to spread 
209:192,25['  ]| purification and perfume all the way. 
209:192,26@a   | She was sure of a pleasant reception; and her friend 
209:192,27@a   | seemed this morning particularly obliged to her for 
209:192,28@a   | coming, seemed hardly to have expected her, though it 
209:192,29@a   | had been an appointment. 
209:192,30['  ]| An account of the concert was immediately claimed; 
209:192,31['  ]| and $PN#A$Anne's recollections of the concert were quite happy 
209:192,32['  ]| enough to animate her features, and make her rejoice to 
209:192,33['  ]| talk of it.  All that she could tell, she told most gladly; 
209:193,01['  ]| but the all was little for one who had been there, and 
209:193,02['  ]| unsatisfactory for such an enquirer as $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, who 
209:193,03['  ]| had already heard, through the short*cut of a laundress 
209:193,04['  ]| and a waiter, rather more of the general success and 
209:193,05['  ]| produce of the evening than $PN#A$Anne could relate; and who 
209:193,06['  ]| now asked in vain for several particulars of the company. 
209:193,07['  ]| Every*body of any consequence or notoriety in Bath was 
209:193,08['  ]| well*known by name to $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith. 
209:193,09[F  ]| "The little $PN#ZJ$Durands were there, I conclude," 
209:193,09['  ]| said she, 
209:193,10[F  ]| "with their mouths open to catch the music; like 
209:193,11[F  ]| unfledged sparrows ready to be fed.  They never miss 
209:193,12[F  ]| a concert." 
209:193,13[A  ]| "Yes.  I did not see them myself, but I heard $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot 
209:193,14[A  ]| say they were in the room." 
209:193,15[F  ]| "The $PN#ZS$Ibbotsons ~~ were they there? and the two new 
209:193,16[F  ]| beauties, with the tall Irish officer, who is talked of for 
209:193,17[F  ]| one of them." 
209:193,18[A  ]| "I do not know. ~~ I do not think they were." 
209:193,19[F  ]| "Old $PN#ZV$Lady*Mary*Maclean?  I need not ask after her. 
209:193,20[F  ]| She never misses, I know; and you must have seen 
209:193,21[F  ]| her.  She must have been in your own circle, for as you 
209:193,22[F  ]| went with $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple, you were in the seats of 
209:193,23[F  ]| grandeur; round the orchestra, of course." 
209:193,24[A  ]| "No, that was what I dreaded.  It would have been 
209:193,25[A  ]| very unpleasant to me in every respect.  But happily 
209:193,26[A  ]| $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple always chooses to be farther off; and 
209:193,27[A  ]| we were exceedingly well*placed ~~ that is for hearing; 
209:193,28[A  ]| I must not say for seeing, because I appear to have seen 
209:193,29[A  ]| very little." 
209:193,30[F  ]| "Oh! you saw enough for your own amusement. ~~ 
209:193,31[F  ]| I can understand.  There is a sort of domestic enjoyment 
209:193,32[F  ]| to be known even in a crowd, and this you had.  You 
209:193,33[F  ]| were a large party in yourselves, and you wanted nothing 
209:193,34[F  ]| beyond." 
209:193,35[A  ]| "But I ought to have looked about me more," 
209:193,35['  ]| said 
209:193,36['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, conscious while she spoke, that 
209:193,36@a   | there had in fact 
209:193,37@a   | been no want of looking about; that the object only 
209:193,38@a   | had been deficient. 
209:194,01[F  ]| "No, no ~~ you were better employed.  You need not 
209:194,02[F  ]| tell me that you had a pleasant evening.  I see it in your 
209:194,03[F  ]| eye.  I perfectly see how the hours passed ~~ that you had 
209:194,04[F  ]| always something agreeable to listen to.  In the intervals 
209:194,05[F  ]| of the concert, it was conversation." 
209:194,06['  ]| $PN#A$Anne half smiled and said, 
209:194,06[A  ]| "Do you see that in my 
209:194,07[A  ]| eye?" 
209:194,08[F  ]| "Yes, I do.  Your countenance perfectly informs me 
209:194,09[F  ]| that you were in company last night with the person, 
209:194,10[F  ]| whom you think the most agreeable in the world, the 
209:194,11[F  ]| person who interests you at this present time, more than 
209:194,12[F  ]| all the rest of the world put together." 
209:194,13['  ]| A blush overspread $PN#A$Anne's cheeks.  She could say 
209:194,14['  ]| nothing. 
209:194,15[F  ]| "And such being the case," 
209:194,15['  ]| continued $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, 
209:194,16['  ]| after a short pause, 
209:194,16[F  ]| "I hope you believe that I do know 
209:194,17[F  ]| how to value your kindness in coming to me this morning. 
209:194,18[F  ]| It is really very good of you to come and sit with me, 
209:194,19[F  ]| when you must have so many pleasanter demands upon 
209:194,20[F  ]| your time." 
209:194,21['  ]| $PN#A$Anne heard nothing of this.  She was still in the 
209:194,22['  ]| astonishment and confusion excited by her friend's 
209:194,23['  ]| penetration, unable to imagine how any report of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
209:194,24['  ]| could have reached her.  After another short 
209:194,25['  ]| silence ~~ 
209:194,26[F  ]| "Pray," 
209:194,26['  ]| said $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, 
209:194,26[F  ]| "is $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot aware of your 
209:194,27[F  ]| acquaintance with me?  Does he know that I am in Bath?" 
209:194,28[A  ]| "$PN#I$Mr%*Elliot!" 
209:194,28['  ]| repeated $PN#A$Anne, looking up surprised. 
209:194,29['  ]| A moment's reflection shewed her the mistake she had 
209:194,30['  ]| been under.  She caught it instantaneously; and, recovering 
209:194,31['  ]| courage with the feeling of safety, soon added, more 
209:194,32['  ]| composedly, 
209:194,32[A  ]| "are you acquainted with $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot?" 
209:194,33[F  ]| "I have been a good deal acquainted with him," 
209:194,33['  ]| replied 
209:194,34['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, gravely, 
209:194,34[F  ]| "but it seems worn out now.  It is 
209:194,35[F  ]| a great while since we met." 
209:194,36[A  ]| "I was not at all aware of this.  You never mentioned 
209:194,37[A  ]| it before.  Had I known it, I would have had the pleasure 
209:194,38[A  ]| of talking to him about you." 
209:195,01[F  ]| "To confess the truth," 
209:195,01['  ]| said $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, assuming her 
209:195,02['  ]| usual air of cheerfulness, 
209:195,02[F  ]| "that is exactly the pleasure 
209:195,03[F  ]| I want you to have.  I want you to talk about me to 
209:195,04[F  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  I want your interest with him.  He can be 
209:195,05[F  ]| of essential service to me; and if you would have the 
209:195,06[F  ]| goodness, my dear $PN#A$Miss*Elliot, to make it an object to 
209:195,07[F  ]| yourself, of course it is done." 
209:195,08[A  ]| "I should be extremely happy ~~ I hope you cannot 
209:195,09[A  ]| doubt my willingness to be of even the slightest use to 
209:195,10[A  ]| you," 
209:195,10['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne; 
209:195,10[A  ]| "but I suspect that you are considering 
209:195,11[A  ]| me as having a higher claim on $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot ~~ 
209:195,12[A  ]| a greater right to influence him, than is really the case. 
209:195,13[A  ]| I am sure you have, somehow or other, imbibed such 
209:195,14[A  ]| a notion.  You must consider me only as $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's 
209:195,15[A  ]| relation.  If in that light, if there is any*thing which you 
209:195,16[A  ]| suppose his cousin might fairly ask of him, I beg you 
209:195,17[A  ]| would not hesitate to employ me." 
209:195,18['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith gave her a penetrating glance, and then, 
209:195,19['  ]| smiling, said, 
209:195,20[F  ]| "I have been a little premature, I perceive.  I beg 
209:195,21[F  ]| your pardon.  I ought to have waited for official information. 
209:195,22[F  ]| But now, my dear $PN#A$Miss*Elliot, as an old friend, 
209:195,23[F  ]| do give me a hint as to when I may speak.  Next week? 
209:195,24[F  ]| To be sure by next week I may be allowed to think it all 
209:195,25[F  ]| settled, and build my own selfish schemes on $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's 
209:195,26[F  ]| good fortune." 
209:195,27[A  ]| "No," 
209:195,27['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne, 
209:195,27[A  ]| "nor next week, nor next, nor 
209:195,28[A  ]| next.  I assure you that nothing of the sort you are 
209:195,29[A  ]| thinking of will be settled any week.  I am not going 
209:195,30[A  ]| to marry $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  I should like to know why you 
209:195,31[A  ]| imagine I am." 
209:195,32['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith looked at her again, looked earnestly, smiled, 
209:195,33['  ]| shook her head, and exclaimed, 
209:195,34[F  ]| "Now, how I do wish I understood you!  How I do 
209:195,35[F  ]| wish I knew what you were at!  I have a great idea that 
209:195,36[F  ]| you do not design to be cruel, when the right moment 
209:195,37[F  ]| comes.  Till it does come, you know, we women never 
209:195,38[F  ]| mean to have any*body.  It is a thing of course among 
209:196,01[F  ]| us, that every man is refused ~~ till he offers.  But why 
209:196,02[F  ]| should you be cruel?  Let me plead for my ~~ present 
209:196,03[F  ]| friend I cannot call him ~~ but for my former friend. 
209:196,04[F  ]| Where can you look for a more suitable match?  Where 
209:196,05[F  ]| could you expect a more gentlemanlike, agreeable man? 
209:196,06[F  ]| Let me recommend $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  I am sure you hear 
209:196,07[F  ]| nothing but good of him from $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis; and who 
209:196,08[F  ]| can know him better than $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis?" 
209:196,09[A  ]| "My dear $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's wife has not been 
209:196,10[A  ]| dead much above half a year.  He ought not to be 
209:196,11[A  ]| supposed to be paying his addresses to any*one." 
209:196,12[F  ]| "Oh! if these are your only objections," 
209:196,12['  ]| cried 
209:196,13['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, archly, 
209:196,13[F  ]| "$PN#I$Mr%*Elliot is safe, and I shall give 
209:196,14[F  ]| myself no more trouble about him.  Do not forget me 
209:196,15[F  ]| when you are married, that's all.  Let him know me to 
209:196,16[F  ]| be a friend of yours, and then he will think little of the 
209:196,17[F  ]| trouble required, which it is very natural for him now, 
209:196,18[F  ]| with so many affairs and engagements of his own, to 
209:196,19[F  ]| avoid and get rid of as he can ~~ very natural, perhaps. 
209:196,20[F  ]| Ninety-nine out of a hundred would do the same.  Of 
209:196,21[F  ]| course, he cannot be aware of the importance to me. 
209:196,22[F  ]| Well, my dear $PN#A$Miss*Elliot, I hope and trust you will be 
209:196,23[F  ]| very happy.  $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot has sense to understand the value 
209:196,24[F  ]| of such a woman.  Your peace will not be shipwrecked 
209:196,25[F  ]| as mine has been.  You are safe in all worldly matters, 
209:196,26[F  ]| and safe in his character.  He will not be led astray, he 
209:196,27[F  ]| will not be misled by others to his ruin." 
209:196,28[A  ]| "No," 
209:196,28['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, 
209:196,28[A  ]| "I can readily believe all that of 
209:196,29[A  ]| my cousin.  He seems to have a calm, decided temper, 
209:196,30[A  ]| not at all open to dangerous impressions.  I consider him 
209:196,31[A  ]| with great respect.  I have no reason, from any*thing 
209:196,32[A  ]| that has fallen within my observation, to do otherwise. 
209:196,33[A  ]| But I have not known him long; and he is not a man, 
209:196,34[A  ]| I think, to be known intimately soon.  Will not this 
209:196,35[A  ]| manner of speaking of him, $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, convince you 
209:196,36[A  ]| that he is nothing to me?  Surely, this must be calm 
209:196,37[A  ]| enough.  And, upon my word, he is nothing to me. 
209:196,38[A  ]| Should he ever propose to me (which I have very little 
209:197,01[A  ]| reason to imagine he has any thought of doing), I shall 
209:197,02[A  ]| not accept him.  I assure you I shall not.  I assure you 
209:197,03[A  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot had not the share which you have been supposing, 
209:197,04[A  ]| in whatever pleasure the concert of last night 
209:197,05[A  ]| might afford: ~~ not $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot; it is not $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot 
209:197,06[A  ]| that ~" 
209:197,07['  ]| She stopped, regretting with a deep blush that she had 
209:197,08['  ]| implied so much; but less would hardly have been 
209:197,09['  ]| sufficient.  $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith would hardly have believed so 
209:197,10['  ]| soon in $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's failure, but from the perception of 
209:197,11['  ]| there being somebody else.  As it was, she instantly 
209:197,12['  ]| submitted, and with all the semblance of seeing nothing 
209:197,13['  ]| beyond; and $PN#A$Anne, eager to escape farther notice, was 
209:197,14['  ]| impatient to know 
209:197,14@a   | why $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith should have fancied 
209:197,15@a   | she was to marry $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, where she could have received 
209:197,16@a   | the idea, or from whom she could have heard it. 
209:197,17[A  ]| "Do tell me how it first came into your head." 
209:197,18[F  ]| "It first came into my head," 
209:197,18['  ]| replied $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, 
209:197,19[F  ]| "upon finding how much you were together, and feeling 
209:197,20[F  ]| it to be the most probable thing in the world to be wished 
209:197,21[F  ]| for by everybody belonging to either of you; and you 
209:197,22[F  ]| may depend upon it that all your acquaintance have 
209:197,23[F  ]| disposed of you in the same way.  But I never heard it 
209:197,24[F  ]| spoken of till two days ago." 
209:197,25[A  ]| "And has it indeed been spoken of?" 
209:197,26[F  ]| "Did you observe the woman who opened the door to 
209:197,27[F  ]| you, when you called yesterday?" 
209:197,28[A  ]| "No.  Was not it $PN#ZZH$Mrs%*Speed, as usual, or the maid? 
209:197,29[A  ]| I observed no*one in particular." 
209:197,30[F  ]| "It was my friend, $PN#ZZA$Mrs%*Rooke ~~ $PN#ZZA$Nurse*Rooke, who, by*the*by, 
209:197,31[F  ]| had a great curiosity to see you, and was delighted 
209:197,32[F  ]| to be in the way to let you in.  She came away from 
209:197,33[F  ]| Marlborough-buildings only on Sunday; and she it was 
209:197,34[F  ]| who told me you were to marry $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  She had had 
209:197,35[F  ]| it from $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis herself, which did not seem bad 
209:197,36[F  ]| authority.  She sat an hour with me on Monday evening, 
209:197,37[F  ]| and gave me the whole history." 
209:197,38[A  ]| "The whole history!" 
209:197,38['  ]| repeated $PN#A$Anne, laughing. 
209:197,38[A  ]| "She 
209:198,01[A  ]| could not make a very long history, I think, of one such 
209:198,02[A  ]| little article of unfounded news." 
209:198,03['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith said nothing. 
209:198,04[A  ]| "But," 
209:198,04['  ]| continued $PN#A$Anne, presently, 
209:198,04[A  ]| "though there is 
209:198,05[A  ]| no truth in my having this claim on $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, I should 
209:198,06[A  ]| be extremely happy to be of use to you, in any way that 
209:198,07[A  ]| I could.  Shall I mention to him your being in Bath? 
209:198,08[A  ]| Shall I take any message?" 
209:198,09[F  ]| "No, I thank you:  no, certainly not.  In the warmth 
209:198,10[F  ]| of the moment, and under a mistaken impression, I might, 
209:198,11[F  ]| perhaps, have endeavoured to interest you in some circumstances. 
209:198,12[F  ]| But not now:  no, I thank you, I have 
209:198,13[F  ]| nothing to trouble you with." 
209:198,14[A  ]| "I think you spoke of having known $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot many 
209:198,15[A  ]| years?" 
209:198,16[F  ]| "I did." 
209:198,17[A  ]| "Not before he married, I suppose?" 
209:198,18[F  ]| "Yes; he was not married when I knew him first." 
209:198,19[A  ]| "And ~~ were you much acquainted?" 
209:198,20[F  ]| "Intimately." 
209:198,21[A  ]| "Indeed!  Then do tell me what he was at that time 
209:198,22[A  ]| of life.  I have a great curiosity to know what $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot 
209:198,23[A  ]| was as a very young man.  Was he at all such as he 
209:198,24[A  ]| appears now?" 
209:198,25[F  ]| "I have not seen $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot these three years," 
209:198,25['  ]| was 
209:198,26['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith's answer, given so gravely that it was impossible 
209:198,27['  ]| to pursue the subject farther; and $PN#A$Anne felt that 
209:198,28['  ]| she had gained nothing but an increase of curiosity.  They 
209:198,29['  ]| were both silent ~~ $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith very thoughtful.  At last, 
209:198,30[F  ]| "I beg your pardon, my dear $PN#A$Miss*Elliot," 
209:198,30['  ]| she cried, 
209:198,31['  ]| in her natural tone of cordiality, 
209:198,31[F  ]| "I beg your pardon for 
209:198,32[F  ]| the short answers I have been giving you, but I have 
209:198,33[F  ]| been uncertain what I ought to do.  I have been doubting 
209:198,34[F  ]| and considering as to what I ought to tell you.  There 
209:198,35[F  ]| were many things to be taken into the account.  One 
209:198,36[F  ]| hates to be officious, to be giving bad impressions, making 
209:198,37[F  ]| mischief.  Even the smooth surface of family-union seems 
209:198,38[F  ]| worth preserving, though there may be nothing durable 
209:199,01[F  ]| beneath.  However, I have determined; I think I am 
209:199,02[F  ]| right; I think you ought to be made acquainted with 
209:199,03[F  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's real character.  Though I fully believe that, 
209:199,04[F  ]| at present, you have not the smallest intention of accepting 
209:199,05[F  ]| him, there is no saying what may happen.  You 
209:199,06[F  ]| might, some time or other, be differently affected towards 
209:199,07[F  ]| him.  Hear the truth, therefore, now, while you are 
209:199,08[F  ]| unprejudiced.  $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot is a man without heart or 
209:199,09[F  ]| conscience; a designing, wary, cold-blooded being, who 
209:199,10[F  ]| thinks only of himself; who, for his own interest or ease, 
209:199,11[F  ]| would be guilty of any cruelty, or any treachery, that 
209:199,12[F  ]| could be perpetrated without risk of his general character. 
209:199,13[F  ]| He has no feeling for others.  Those whom he has been 
209:199,14[F  ]| the chief cause of leading into ruin, he can neglect and 
209:199,15[F  ]| desert without the smallest compunction.  He is totally 
209:199,16[F  ]| beyond the reach of any sentiment of justice or compassion. 
209:199,17[F  ]| Oh! he is black at heart, hollow and black!" 
209:199,18['  ]| $PN#A$Anne's astonished air, and exclamation of wonder, made 
209:199,19['  ]| her pause, and in a calmer manner she added, 
209:199,20[F  ]| "My expressions startle you.  You must allow for an 
209:199,21[F  ]| injured, angry woman.  But I will try to command myself. 
209:199,22[F  ]| I will not abuse him.  I will only tell you what 
209:199,23[F  ]| I have found him.  Facts shall speak.  He was the 
209:199,24[F  ]| intimate friend of my dear husband, who trusted and 
209:199,25[F  ]| loved him, and thought him as good as himself.  The 
209:199,26[F  ]| intimacy had been formed before our marriage.  I found 
209:199,27[F  ]| them most intimate friends; and I, too, became excessively 
209:199,28[F  ]| pleased with $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, and entertained the highest 
209:199,29[F  ]| opinion of him.  At nineteen, you know, one does not 
209:199,30[F  ]| think very seriously, but $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot appeared to me quite 
209:199,31[F  ]| as good as others, and much more agreeable than most 
209:199,32[F  ]| others, and we were almost always together.  We were 
209:199,33[F  ]| principally in town, living in very good style.  He was 
209:199,34[F  ]| then the inferior in circumstances, he was then the poor 
209:199,35[F  ]| one; he had chambers in the Temple, and it was as 
209:199,36[F  ]| much as he could do to support the appearance of a gentleman. 
209:199,37[F  ]| He had always a home with us whenever he chose 
209:199,38[F  ]| it; he was always welcome; he was like a brother.  My 
209:200,01[F  ]| poor $PN#ZZG$Charles, who had the finest, most generous spirit in 
209:200,02[F  ]| the world, would have divided his last farthing with him; 
209:200,03[F  ]| and I know that his purse was open to him; I know 
209:200,04[F  ]| that he often assisted him." 
209:200,05[A  ]| "This must have been about that very period of 
209:200,06[A  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's life," 
209:200,06['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, 
209:200,06[A  ]| "which has always excited 
209:200,07[A  ]| my particular curiosity.  It must have been about the 
209:200,08[A  ]| same time that he became known to my father and sister. 
209:200,09[A  ]| I never knew him myself, I only heard of him, but there 
209:200,10[A  ]| was a something in his conduct then with regard to my 
209:200,11[A  ]| father and sister, and afterwards in the circumstances of 
209:200,12[A  ]| his marriage, which I never could quite reconcile with 
209:200,13[A  ]| present times.  It seemed to announce a different sort 
209:200,14[A  ]| of man." 
209:200,15[F  ]| "I know it all, I know it all," 
209:200,15['  ]| cried $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith. 
209:200,15[F  ]| "He 
209:200,16[F  ]| had been introduced to $PN#G$Sir*Walter and your sister before 
209:200,17[F  ]| I was acquainted with him, but I heard him speak of 
209:200,18[F  ]| them for*ever.  I know he was invited and encouraged, 
209:200,19[F  ]| and I know he did not choose to go.  I can satisfy you, 
209:200,20[F  ]| perhaps, on points which you would little expect; and 
209:200,21[F  ]| as to his marriage, I knew all about it at the time.  I was 
209:200,22[F  ]| privy to all the fors and againsts, I was the friend to 
209:200,23[F  ]| whom he confided his hopes and plans, and though I did 
209:200,24[F  ]| not know his wife previously, (her inferior situation in 
209:200,25[F  ]| society, indeed, rendered that impossible) yet I knew her 
209:200,26[F  ]| all her life afterwards, or, at least, till within the last 
209:200,27[F  ]| two years of her life, and can answer any question you 
209:200,28[F  ]| wish to put." 
209:200,29[A  ]| "Nay," 
209:200,29['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, 
209:200,29[A  ]| "I have no particular enquiry to 
209:200,30[A  ]| make about her.  I have always understood they were 
209:200,31[A  ]| not a happy couple.  But I should like to know why, at 
209:200,32[A  ]| that time of his life, he should slight my father's acquaintance 
209:200,33[A  ]| as he did.  My father was certainly disposed to 
209:200,34[A  ]| take very kind and proper notice of him.  Why did 
209:200,35[A  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot draw back?" 
209:200,36[F  ]| "$PN#I$Mr%*Elliot," 
209:200,36['  ]| replied $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, 
209:200,36[F  ]| "at that period of 
209:200,37[F  ]| his life, had one object in view ~~ to make his fortune, and 
209:200,38[F  ]| by a rather quicker process than the law.  He was determined 
209:201,01[F  ]| to make it by marriage.  He was determined, at 
209:201,02[F  ]| least, not to mar it by an imprudent marriage; and 
209:201,03[F  ]| I know it was his belief, (whether justly or not, of course 
209:201,04[F  ]| I cannot decide) that your father and sister, in their 
209:201,05[F  ]| civilities and invitations, were designing a match between 
209:201,06[F  ]| the heir and the young lady; and it was impossible that 
209:201,07[F  ]| such a match should have answered his ideas of wealth 
209:201,08[F  ]| and independance.  That was his motive for drawing 
209:201,09[F  ]| back, I can assure you.  He told me the whole story. 
209:201,10[F  ]| He had no concealments with me.  It was curious, that 
209:201,11[F  ]| having just left you behind me in Bath, my first and 
209:201,12[F  ]| principal acquaintance on marrying, should be your 
209:201,13[F  ]| cousin; and that, through him, I should be continually 
209:201,14[F  ]| hearing of your father and sister.  He described one 
209:201,15[F  ]| $PN#H$Miss*Elliot, and I thought very affectionately of the 
209:201,16[F  ]| other." 
209:201,17[A  ]| "Perhaps," 
209:201,17['  ]| cried $PN#A$Anne, struck by a sudden idea, 
209:201,17[A  ]| "you 
209:201,18[A  ]| sometimes spoke of me to $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot?" 
209:201,19[F  ]| "To be sure I did, very often.  I used to boast of my 
209:201,20[F  ]| own $PN#A$Anne*Elliot, and vouch for your being a very different 
209:201,21[F  ]| creature from ~" 
209:201,22['  ]| She checked herself just in time. 
209:201,23[A  ]| "This accounts for something which $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot said 
209:201,24[A  ]| last night," 
209:201,24['  ]| cried $PN#A$Anne. 
209:201,24[A  ]| "This explains it.  I found he 
209:201,25[A  ]| had been used to hear of me.  I could not comprehend 
209:201,26[A  ]| how.  What wild imaginations one forms, where dear self 
209:201,27[A  ]| is concerned!  How sure to be mistaken!  But I beg 
209:201,28[A  ]| your pardon; I have interrupted you.  $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot married, 
209:201,29[A  ]| then, completely for money?  The circumstance, probably, 
209:201,30[A  ]| which first opened your eyes to his character." 
209:201,31['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith hesitated a little here. 
209:201,31[F  ]| "Oh! those things 
209:201,32[F  ]| are too common.  When one lives in the world, a man 
209:201,33[F  ]| or woman's marrying for money is too common to strike 
209:201,34[F  ]| one as it ought.  I was very young, and associated only 
209:201,35[F  ]| with the young, and we were a thoughtless, gay set, 
209:201,36[F  ]| without any strict rules of conduct.  We lived for enjoyment. 
209:201,37[F  ]| I think differently now; time and sickness, and 
209:201,38[F  ]| sorrow, have given me other notions; but, at that period, 
209:202,01[F  ]| I must own I saw nothing reprehensible in what $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot 
209:202,02[F  ]| was doing.  ""To do the best for himself,"" passed as 
209:202,03[F  ]| a duty." 
209:202,04[A  ]| "But was not she a very low woman?" 
209:202,05[F  ]| "Yes; which I objected to, but he would not regard. 
209:202,06[F  ]| Money, money, was all that he wanted.  Her father was 
209:202,07[F  ]| a grazier, her grandfather had been a butcher, but that 
209:202,08[F  ]| was all nothing.  She was a fine woman, had had a decent 
209:202,09[F  ]| education, was brought forward by some cousins, thrown 
209:202,10[F  ]| by chance into $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's company, and fell in love 
209:202,11[F  ]| with him; and not a difficulty or a scruple was there 
209:202,12[F  ]| on his side, with respect to her birth.  All his caution 
209:202,13[F  ]| was spent in being secured of the real amount of her 
209:202,14[F  ]| fortune, before he committed himself.  Depend upon it, 
209:202,15[F  ]| whatever esteem $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot may have for his own situation 
209:202,16[F  ]| in life now, as a young man he had not the smallest 
209:202,17[F  ]| value for it.  His chance of the Kellynch estate was 
209:202,18[F  ]| something, but all the honour of the family he held as 
209:202,19[F  ]| cheap as dirt.  I have often heard him declare, that if 
209:202,20[F  ]| baronetcies were saleable, any*body should have his for 
209:202,21[F  ]| fifty pounds, arms and motto, name and livery included; 
209:202,22[F  ]| but I will not pretend to repeat half that I used to hear 
209:202,23[F  ]| him say on that subject.  It would not be fair.  And yet 
209:202,24[F  ]| you ought to have proof; for what is all this but assertion? 
209:202,25[F  ]| and you shall have proof." 
209:202,26[A  ]| "Indeed, my dear $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, I want none," 
209:202,26['  ]| cried 
209:202,27['  ]| $PN#A$Anne. 
209:202,27[A  ]| "You have asserted nothing contradictory to 
209:202,28[A  ]| what $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot appeared to be some years ago.  This is 
209:202,29[A  ]| all in confirmation, rather, of what we used to hear and 
209:202,30[A  ]| believe.  I am more curious to know why he should be 
209:202,31[A  ]| so different now?" 
209:202,32[F  ]| "But for my satisfaction; if you will have the goodness 
209:202,33[F  ]| to ring for $PN#ZW$Mary ~~ stay, I am sure you will have the 
209:202,34[F  ]| still greater goodness of going yourself into my bed-room, 
209:202,35[F  ]| and bringing me the small inlaid box which you will find 
209:202,36[F  ]| on the upper shelf of the closet." 
209:202,37['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, seeing her friend to be earnestly bent on it, did 
209:202,38['  ]| as she was desired.  The box was brought and placed 
209:203,01['  ]| before her, and $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, sighing over it as she unlocked 
209:203,02['  ]| it, said, 
209:203,03[F  ]| "This is full of papers belonging to him, to my husband, 
209:203,04[F  ]| a small portion only of what I had to look over when 
209:203,05[F  ]| I lost him.  The letter I am looking for, was one written 
209:203,06[F  ]| by $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot to him before our marriage, and happened 
209:203,07[F  ]| to be saved; why, one can hardly imagine.  But he was 
209:203,08[F  ]| careless and immethodical, like other men, about those 
209:203,09[F  ]| things; and when I came to examine his papers, I found 
209:203,10[F  ]| it with others still more trivial from different people 
209:203,11[F  ]| scattered here and there, while many letters and memorandums 
209:203,12[F  ]| of real importance had been destroyed.  Here it 
209:203,13[F  ]| is.  I would not burn it, because being even then very 
209:203,14[F  ]| little satisfied with $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, I was determined to preserve 
209:203,15[F  ]| every document of former intimacy.  I have now 
209:203,16[F  ]| another motive for being glad that I can produce it." 
209:203,17['  ]| This was the letter, directed to 
209:203,17[I  ]| "$PN#ZZG$Charles*Smith_*Esq% 
209:203,18[I  ]| Tunbridge*Wells," 
209:203,18['  ]| and dated from London, as far back 
209:203,19['  ]| as July_*1803. 
209:203,20['  ]| 
209:203,21[I  ]| "Dear $PN#ZZG$Smith, 
209:203,22[I  ]| "I have received yours.  Your kindness almost overpowers 
209:203,23[I  ]| "me.  I wish nature had made such hearts as 
209:203,24[I  ]| "yours more common, but I have lived three*and*twenty 
209:203,25[I  ]| "years in the world, and have seen none like it.  At 
209:203,26[I  ]| "present, believe me, I have no need of your services, 
209:203,27[I  ]| "being in cash again.  Give me joy:  I have got rid of 
209:203,28[I  ]| "$PN#G$Sir*Walter and $PN#H$Miss.  They are gone back to Kellynch, 
209:203,29[I  ]| "and almost made me swear to visit them this summer, 
209:203,30[I  ]| "but my first visit to Kellynch will be with a surveyor, 
209:203,31[I  ]| "to tell me how to bring it with best advantage to the 
209:203,32[I  ]| "hammer.  The baronet, nevertheless, is not unlikely to 
209:203,33[I  ]| "marry again; he is quite fool enough.  If he does, 
209:203,34[I  ]| "however, they will leave me in peace, which may be 
209:203,35[I  ]| "a decent equivalent for the reversion.  He is worse than 
209:203,36[I  ]| "last year. 
209:203,37[I  ]| "I wish I had any name but $PN#G1$Elliot.  I am sick of it. 
209:203,38[I  ]| "The name of $PN#I$Walter I can drop, thank God! and 
209:204,01[I  ]| "I desire you will never insult me with my second $PN#I$W% 
209:204,02[I  ]| "again, meaning, for the rest of my life, to be only yours 
209:204,03[I  ]| "truly, 
209:204,04[I  ]| "$PN#I$WM%*ELLIOT." 
209:204,05[I  ]| 
209:204,06['  ]| Such a letter could not be read without putting $PN#A$Anne 
209:204,07['  ]| in a glow; and $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, observing the high colour 
209:204,08['  ]| in her face, said, 
209:204,09[F  ]| "The language, I know, is highly disrespectful.  Though 
209:204,10[F  ]| I have forgot the exact terms, I have a perfect impression 
209;204,11[F  ]| of the general meaning.  But it shews you the man. 
209:204,12[F  ]| Mark his professions to my poor husband.  Can any*thing 
209:204,13[F  ]| be stronger?" 
209:204,14['  ]| $PN#A$Anne could not immediately get over the shock and 
209:204,15['  ]| mortification of finding such words applied to her father. 
209:204,16['  ]| She was obliged to recollect that her seeing the letter was 
209:204,17['  ]| a violation of the laws of honour, that no*one ought to 
209:204,18['  ]| be judged or to be known by such testimonies, that no 
209:204,19['  ]| private correspondence could bear the eye of others, 
209:204,20['  ]| before she could recover calmness enough to return the 
209:204,21['  ]| letter which she had been meditating over, and say, 
209:204,22[A  ]| "Thank you.  This is full proof undoubtedly, proof of 
209:204,23[A  ]| every*thing you were saying.  But why be acquainted 
209:204,24[A  ]| with us now?" 
209:204,25[F  ]| "I can explain this too," 
209:204,25['  ]| cried $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, smiling. 
209:204,26[A  ]| "Can you really?" 
209:204,27[F  ]| "Yes.  I have shewn you $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, as he was a dozen 
209:204,28[F  ]| years ago, and I will shew him as he is now.  I cannot 
209:204,29[F  ]| produce written proof again, but I can give as authentic 
209:204,30[F  ]| oral testimony as you can desire, of what he is now 
209:204,31[F  ]| wanting, and what he is now doing.  He is no hypocrite 
209:204,32[F  ]| now.  He truly wants to marry you.  His present attentions 
209:204,33[F  ]| to your family are very sincere, quite from the heart. 
209:204,34[F  ]| I will give you my authority; his friend $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis." 
209:204,35[A  ]| "$PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis! are you acquainted with him?" 
209:204,36[F  ]| "No.  It does not come to me in quite so direct a line 
209:204,37[F  ]| as that; it takes a bend or two, but nothing of consequence. 
209:204,38[F  ]| The stream is as good as at first; the little 
209:205,01[F  ]| rubbish it collects in the turnings, is easily moved away. 
209:205,02[F  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot talks unreservedly to $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis of his 
209:205,03[F  ]| views on you ~~ which said $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis I imagine to be 
209:205,04[F  ]| in himself a sensible, careful, discerning sort of character; 
209:205,05[F  ]| but $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis has a very pretty silly wife, to whom 
209:205,06[F  ]| he tells things which he had better not, and he repeats 
209:205,07[F  ]| it all to her.  She, in the overflowing spirits of her 
209:205,08[F  ]| recovery, repeats it all to her nurse; and the nurse, 
209:205,09[F  ]| knowing my acquaintance with you, very naturally brings 
209:205,10[F  ]| it all to me.  On Monday evening my good friend 
209:205,11[F  ]| $PN#ZZA$Mrs%*Rooke let me thus much into the secrets of Marlborough-buildings. 
209:205,12[F  ]| When I talked of a whole history 
209:205,13[F  ]| therefore, you see, I was not romancing so much as you 
209:205,14[F  ]| supposed." 
209:205,15[A  ]| "My dear $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, your authority is deficient.  This 
209:205,16[A  ]| will not do.  $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's having any views on me will 
209:205,17[A  ]| not in the least account for the efforts he made towards 
209:205,18[A  ]| a reconciliation with my father.  That was all prior to 
209:205,19[A  ]| my coming to Bath.  I found them on the most friendly 
209:205,20[A  ]| terms when I arrived." 
209:205,21[F  ]| "I know you did; I know it all perfectly, but" ~~ 
209:205,22[A  ]| "Indeed, $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, we must not expect to get real 
209:205,23[A  ]| information in such a line.  Facts or opinions which are 
209:205,24[A  ]| to pass through the hands of so many, to be misconceived 
209:205,25[A  ]| by folly in one, and ignorance in another, can hardly 
209:205,26[A  ]| have much truth left." 
209:205,27[F  ]| "Only give me a hearing.  You will soon be able to 
209:205,28[F  ]| judge of the general credit due, by listening to some 
209:205,29[F  ]| particulars which you can yourself immediately contradict 
209:205,30[F  ]| or confirm.  Nobody supposes that you were his first 
209:205,31[F  ]| inducement.  He had seen you indeed, before he came 
209:205,32[F  ]| to Bath and admired you, but without knowing it to be 
209:205,33[F  ]| you.  So says my historian at least.  Is this true?  Did 
209:205,34[F  ]| he see you last summer or autumn, 
209:205,34@v   | ""somewhere down in 
209:205,35@v   | the west,"" 
209:205,35[F  ]| to use her own words, without knowing it to 
209:205,36[F  ]| be you?" 
209:205,37[A  ]| "He certainly did.  So far it is very true.  At Lyme; 
209:205,38[A  ]| I happened to be at Lyme." 
209:206,01[F  ]| "Well," 
209:206,01['  ]| continued $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith triumphantly, 
209:206,01[F  ]| "grant 
209:206,02[F  ]| my friend the credit due to the establishment of the first 
209:206,03[F  ]| point asserted.  He saw you then at Lyme, and liked you 
209:206,04[F  ]| so well as to be exceedingly pleased to meet with you 
209:206,05[F  ]| again in Camden-place, as $PN#A$Miss*Anne*Elliot, and from 
209:206,06[F  ]| that moment, I have no doubt, had a double motive in 
209:206,07[F  ]| his visits there.  But there was another, and an earlier; 
209:206,08[F  ]| which I will now explain.  If there is any*thing in my 
209:206,09[F  ]| story which you know to be either false or improbable, 
209:206,10[F  ]| stop me.  My account states, that your sister's friend, 
209:206,11[F  ]| the lady now staying with you, whom I have heard you 
209:206,12[F  ]| mention, came to Bath with $PN#H$Miss*Elliot and $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
209:206,13[F  ]| as long ago as September, (in short when they first came 
209:206,14[F  ]| themselves) and has been staying there ever since; that 
209:206,15[F  ]| she is a clever, insinuating, handsome woman, poor and 
209:206,16[F  ]| plausible, and altogether such in situation and manner, 
209:206,17[F  ]| as to give a general idea among $PN#G$Sir*Walter's acquaintance, 
209:206,18[F  ]| of her meaning to be $PN#C$Lady*Elliot, and as general a surprise 
209:206,19[F  ]| that $PN#H$Miss*Elliot should be apparently blind to the 
209:206,20[F  ]| danger." 
209:206,21['  ]| Here $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith paused a moment; but $PN#A$Anne had 
209:206,22['  ]| not a word to say, and she continued, 
209:206,23[F  ]| "This was the light in which it appeared to those who 
209:206,24[F  ]| knew the family, long before your return to it; and 
209:206,25[F  ]| $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis had his eye upon your father enough to 
209:206,26[F  ]| be sensible of it, though he did not then visit in Camden-place; 
209:206,27[F  ]| but his regard for $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot gave him an interest 
209:206,28[F  ]| in watching all that was going on there, and when 
209:206,29[F  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot came to Bath for a day or two, as he happened 
209:206,30[F  ]| to do a little before Christmas, $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis made him 
209:206,31[F  ]| acquainted with the appearance of things, and the reports 
209:206,32[F  ]| beginning to prevail. ~~ Now you are to understand that 
209:206:33[F  ]| time had worked a very material change in $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's 
209:206,34[F  ]| opinions as to the value of a baronetcy.  Upon all points 
209:206,35[F  ]| of blood and connexion, he is a completely altered man. 
209:206,36[F  ]| Having long had as much money as he could spend, 
209:206,37[F  ]| nothing to wish for on the side of avarice or indulgence, 
209:206,38[F  ]| he has been gradually learning to pin his happiness upon 
209:207,01[F  ]| the consequence he is heir to.  I thought it coming on, 
209:207,02[F  ]| before our acquaintance ceased, but it is now a confirmed 
209:207,03[F  ]| feeling.  He cannot bear the idea of not being $PN#I$Sir*William. 
209:207,04[F  ]| You may guess therefore that the news he heard from 
209:207,05[F  ]| his friend, could not be very agreeable, and you may 
209:207,06[F  ]| guess what it produced; the resolution of coming back 
209:207,07[F  ]| to Bath as soon as possible, and of fixing himself here 
209:207,08[F  ]| for a time, with the view of renewing his former acquaintance 
209:207,09[F  ]| and recovering such a footing in the family, as 
209:207,10[F  ]| might give him the means of ascertaining the degree of 
209:207,11[F  ]| his danger, and of circumventing the lady if he found it 
209:207,12[F  ]| material.  This was agreed upon between the two friends, 
209:207,13[F  ]| as the only thing to be done; and $PN#ZZM$Colonel*Wallis was 
209:207,14[F  ]| to assist in every way that he could.  He was to be 
209:207,15[F  ]| introduced, and $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis was to be introduced, and 
209:207,16[F  ]| every*body was to be introduced.  $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot came back 
209:207,17[F  ]| accordingly; and on application was forgiven, as you 
209:207,18[F  ]| know, and re-admitted into the family; and there it was 
209:207,19[F  ]| his constant object, and his only object (till your arrival 
209:207,20[F  ]| added another motive) to watch $PN#G$Sir*Walter and $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay. 
209:207,21[F  ]| He omitted no opportunity of being with them, threw 
209:207,22[F  ]| himself in their way, called at all hours ~~ but I need not 
209:207,23[F  ]| be particular on this subject.  You can imagine what an 
209:207,24[F  ]| artful man would do; and with this guide, perhaps, may 
209:207,25[F  ]| recollect what you have seen him do." 
209:207,26[A  ]| "Yes," 
209:207,26['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, 
209:207,26[A  ]| "you tell me nothing which does 
209:207,27[A  ]| not accord with what I have known, or could imagine. 
209:207,28[A  ]| There is always something offensive in the details of 
209:207,29[A  ]| cunning.  The mano*euvres of selfishness and duplicity 
209:207,30[A  ]| must ever be revolting, but I have heard nothing which 
209:207,31[A  ]| really surprises me.  I know those who would be shocked 
209:207,32[A  ]| by such a representation of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, who would have 
209:207,33[A  ]| difficulty in believing it; but I have never been satisfied. 
209:207,34[A  ]| I have always wanted some other motive for his conduct 
209:207,35[A  ]| than appeared. ~~ I should like to know his present opinion, 
209:207,36[A  ]| as to the probability of the event he has been in dread 
209:207,37[A  ]| of; whether he considers the danger to be lessening 
209:207,38[A  ]| or not." 
209:208,01[F  ]| "Lessening, I understand," 
209:208,01['  ]| replied $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith. 
209:208,01[F  ]| "He 
209:208,02[F  ]| thinks $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay afraid of him, aware that he sees through 
209:208,03[F  ]| her, and not daring to proceed as she might do in his 
209:208,04[F  ]| absence.  But since he must be absent some time or 
209:208,05[F  ]| other, I do not perceive how he can ever be secure, while 
209:208,06[F  ]| she holds her present influence.  $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis has an 
209:208,07[F  ]| amusing idea, as nurse tells me, that it is to be put into 
209:208,08[F  ]| the marriage articles when you and $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot marry, 
209:208,09[F  ]| that your father is not to marry $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay.  A scheme, 
209:208,10[F  ]| worthy of $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis's understanding, by all accounts; 
209:208,11[F  ]| but my sensible $PN#ZZA$nurse*Rooke sees the absurdity of it. ~~ 
209:208,12@v   | ""Why, to be sure, ma'am,"" 
209:208,12[F  ]| said she, 
209:208,12@v   | ""it would not 
209:208,13@v   | prevent his marrying any*body else.""  
209:208,13[F  ]| And indeed, to 
209:208,14[F  ]| own the truth, I do not think nurse in her heart is a very 
209:208,15[F  ]| strenuous opposer of $PN#G$Sir*Walter's making a second match. 
209:208,16[F  ]| She must be allowed to be a favourer of matrimony you 
209:208,17[F  ]| know, and (since self will intrude) who can say that she 
209:208,18[F  ]| may not have some flying visions of attending the next 
209:208,19[F  ]| $PN#X$Lady*Elliot, through $PN#ZZN$Mrs%*Wallis's recommendation?" 
209:208,20[A  ]| "I am very glad to know all this," 
209:208,20['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, after 
209:208,21['  ]| a little thoughtfulness. 
209:208,21[A  ]| "It will be more painful to me 
209:208,22[A  ]| in some respects to be in company with him, but I shall 
209:208,23[A  ]| know better what to do.  My line of conduct will be more 
209:208,24[A  ]| direct.  $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot is evidently a disingenuous, artificial, 
209:208,25[A  ]| worldly man, who has never had any better principle to 
209;208,26[A  ]| guide him than selfishness." 
209:208,27['  ]| But $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot was not yet done with.  $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith had 
209:208,28['  ]| been carried away from her first direction, and $PN#A$Anne 
209:208,29['  ]| had forgotten, in the interest of her own family concerns, 
209:208,30['  ]| how much had been originally implied against him; but 
209:208,31['  ]| her attention was now called to the explanation of those 
209:208,32['  ]| first hints, and she listened to a recital which, if it did not 
209:208,33['  ]| perfectly justify the unqualified bitterness of $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, 
209:208,34['  ]| proved him to have been very unfeeling in his conduct 
209:208,35['  ]| towards her, very deficient both in justice and compassion. 
209:208,36['  ]| She learned that (the intimacy between them continuing 
209:208,37['  ]| unimpaired by $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's marriage) they had been as 
209:208,38['  ]| before always together, and $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot had led his friend 
209:209,01['  ]| into expenses much beyond his fortune.  $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith did 
209:209,02['  ]| not want to take blame to herself, and was most tender 
209:209,03['  ]| of throwing any on her husband; but $PN#A$Anne could collect 
209:209,04['  ]| that their income had never been equal to their style of 
209:209,05['  ]| living, and that from the first, there had been a great 
209:209,06['  ]| deal of general and joint extravagance.  From his wife's 
209:209,07['  ]| account of him, she could discern 
209:209,07@a   | $PN#ZZG$Mr%*Smith to have been 
209:209,08@a   | a man of warm feelings, easy temper, careless habits, and 
209:209,09@a   | not strong understanding, much more amiable than his 
209:209,10@a   | friend, and very unlike him ~~ led by him, and probably 
209:209,11@a   | despised by him. 
209:209,11['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, raised by his marriage to 
209:209,12['  ]| great affluence, and disposed to every gratification of 
209:209,13['  ]| pleasure and vanity which could be commanded without 
209:209,14['  ]| involving himself, (for with all his self-indulgence he had 
209:209,15['  ]| become a prudent man) and beginning to be rich, just 
209:209,16['  ]| as his friend ought to have found himself to be poor, 
209:209,17['  ]| seemed to have had no concern at all for that friend's 
209:209,18['  ]| probable finances, but, on the contrary, had been prompting 
209:209,19['  ]| and encouraging expenses, which could end only in 
209:209,20['  ]| ruin.  And the $PN#F1$Smiths accordingly had been ruined. 
209:209,21['  ]| The husband had died just in time to be spared the full 
209:209,22['  ]| knowledge of it.  They had previously known embarrassments 
209:209,23['  ]| enough to try the friendship of their friends, and 
209:209,24['  ]| to prove that $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's had better not be tried; but 
209:209,25['  ]| it was not till his death that the wretched state of his 
209:209,26['  ]| affairs was fully known.  With a confidence in $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's 
209:209,27['  ]| regard, more creditable to his feelings than his judgment, 
209:209,28['  ]| $PN#ZZG$Mr%*Smith had appointed him the executor of his will; 
209:209,29['  ]| but $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot would not act, and the difficulties and 
209:209,30['  ]| distresses which this refusal had heaped on her, in addition 
209:209,31['  ]| to the inevitable sufferings of her situation, had been 
209:209,32['  ]| such as could not be related without anguish of spirit, or 
209:209,33['  ]| listened to without corresponding indignation. 
209:209,34['  ]| $PN#A$Anne was shewn some letters of his on the occasion, 
209:209,35['  ]| answers to urgent applications from $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, which 
209:209,36['  ]| all breathed the same stern resolution of not engaging in 
209:209,37['  ]| a fruitless trouble, and, under a cold civility, the same 
209:209,38['  ]| hard-hearted indifference to any of the evils it might 
209:210,01['  ]| bring on her.  It was a dreadful picture of ingratitude 
209:210,02['  ]| and inhumanity; and $PN#A$Anne felt at some moments, that 
209:210,03['  ]| no flagrant open crime could have been worse.  She had 
209:210,04['  ]| a great deal to listen to; all the particulars of past sad 
209:210,05['  ]| scenes, all the minutia*e of distress upon distress, which 
209:210,06['  ]| in former conversations had been merely hinted at, were 
209:210,07['  ]| dwelt on now with a natural indulgence.  $PN#A$Anne could 
209:210,08['  ]| perfectly comprehend the exquisite relief, and was only 
209:210,09['  ]| the more inclined to wonder at the composure of her 
209:210,10['  ]| friend's usual state of mind. 
209:210,11['  ]| There was one circumstance in the history of her 
209:210,12['  ]| grievances of particular irritation.  She had good reason 
209:210,13['  ]| to believe that some property of her husband in the West*Indies, 
209:210,14['  ]| which had been for many years under a sort of 
209:210,15['  ]| sequestration for the payment of its own incumbrances, 
209:210,16['  ]| might be recoverable by proper measures; and this property, 
209:210,17['  ]| though not large, would be enough to make her 
209:210,18['  ]| comparatively rich.  But there was nobody to stir in it. 
209:210,19['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot would do nothing, and she could do nothing 
209:210,20['  ]| herself, equally disabled from personal exertion by her 
209:210,21['  ]| state of bodily weakness, and from employing others by 
209:210,22['  ]| her want of money.  She had no natural connexions to 
209:210,23['  ]| assist her even with their counsel, and she could not 
209:210,24['  ]| afford to purchase the assistance of the law.  This was 
209:210,25['  ]| a cruel aggravation of actually streightened means.  To 
209:210,26['  ]| feel that she ought to be in better circumstances, that 
209:210,27['  ]| a little trouble in the right place might do it, and to fear 
209:210,28['  ]| that delay might be even weakening her claims, was hard 
209:210,29['  ]| to bear! 
209:210,30['  ]| It was on this point that she had hoped to engage 
209:210,31['  ]| $PN#A$Anne's good offices with $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  She had previously, 
209:210,32['  ]| in the anticipation of their marriage, been very apprehensive 
209:210,33['  ]| of losing her friend by it; but on being assured 
209:210,34['  ]| that he could have made no attempt of that nature, since 
209:210,35['  ]| he did not even know her to be in Bath, it immediately 
209:210,36['  ]| occurred, that something might be done in her favour by 
209:210,37['  ]| the influence of the woman he loved, and she had been 
209:210,38['  ]| hastily preparing to interest $PN#A$Anne's feelings, as far as the 
209:211,01['  ]| observances due to $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's character would allow, 
209:211,02['  ]| when $PN#A$Anne's refutation of the supposed engagement 
209:211,03['  ]| changed the face of every*thing, and while it took from 
209:211,04['  ]| her the new-formed hope of succeeding in the object of 
209:211,05['  ]| her first anxiety, left her at least the comfort of telling 
209:211,06['  ]| the whole story her own way. 
209:211,07['  ]| After listening to this full description of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, 
209:211,08['  ]| $PN#A$Anne could not but express some surprise at $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith's 
209:211,09['  ]| having spoken of him so favourably in the beginning of 
209:211,10['  ]| their conversation. 
209:211,11[A  ]| "She had seemed to recommend and 
209:211,12[A  ]| praise him!" 
209:211,13[F  ]| "My dear," 
209:211,13['  ]| was $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith's reply, 
209:211,13[F  ]| "there was nothing 
209:211,14[F  ]| else to be done.  I considered your marrying him as 
209:211,15[F  ]| certain, though he might not yet have made the offer, 
209:211,16[F  ]| and I could no more speak the truth of him, than if he 
209:211,17[F  ]| had been your husband.  My heart bled for you, as 
209:211,18[F  ]| I talked of happiness.  And yet, he is sensible, he is 
209:211,19[F  ]| agreeable, and with such a woman as you, it was not 
209:211,20[F  ]| absolutely hopeless.  He was very unkind to his first 
209:211,21[F  ]| wife.  They were wretched together.  But she was too 
209:211,22[F  ]| ignorant and giddy for respect, and he had never loved 
209:211,23[F  ]| her.  I was willing to hope that you must fare better." 
209:211,24['  ]| $PN#A$Anne could just acknowledge within herself such a possibility 
209:211,25['  ]| of having been induced to marry him, as made 
209:211,26['  ]| her shudder at the idea of the misery which must have 
209:211,27['  ]| followed. 
209:211,27@a   | It was just possible that she might have been 
209:211,28@a   | persuaded by $PN#K$Lady*Russell!  And under such a supposition, 
209:211,29@a   | which would have been most miserable, when time 
209:211,30@a   | had disclosed all, too late? 
209:211,31@a   | It was very desirable that $PN#K$Lady*Russell should be no 
209:211,32@a   | longer deceived; 
209:211,32['  ]| and one of the concluding arrangements 
209:211,33['  ]| of this important conference, which carried them through 
209:211,34['  ]| the greater part of the morning was, that $PN#A$Anne had full 
209:211,35['  ]| liberty to communicate to her friend every*thing relative 
209:211,36['  ]| to $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, in which his conduct was involved. 
210:212,01['  ]| $PN#A$Anne went home to think over all that she had heard. 
210:212,02['  ]| In one point, her feelings were relieved by this knowledge 
210:212,03['  ]| of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot. 
210:212,03@a   | There was no longer any*thing of 
210:212,04@a   | tenderness due to him.  He stood, as opposed to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
210:212,05@a   | in all his own unwelcome obtrusiveness; and 
210:212,06@a   | the evil of his attentions last night, the irremediable 
210:212,07@a   | mischief he might have done, was considered with sensations 
210:212,08@a   | unqualified, unperplexed. ~~ Pity for him was all 
210:212,09@a   | over. 
210:212,09['  ]| But this was the only point of relief.  In every 
210:212,10['  ]| other respect, in looking around her, or penetrating forward, 
210:212,11['  ]| she saw more to distrust and to apprehend.  She 
210:212,12['  ]| was concerned for the disappointment and pain $PN#K$Lady*Russell 
210:212,13['  ]| would be feeling, for the mortifications which 
210:212,14['  ]| must be hanging over her father and sister, and had all 
210:212,15['  ]| the distress of foreseeing many evils, without knowing 
210:212,16['  ]| how to avert any one of them. ~~ She was most thankful 
210:212,17['  ]| for her own knowledge of him.  She had never considered 
210:212,18['  ]| herself as entitled to reward for not slighting an old friend 
210:212,19['  ]| like $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, but here was a reward indeed springing 
210:212,20['  ]| from it! ~~ 
210:212,20@a   | $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith had been able to tell her what no 
210:212,21@a   | one else could have done.  Could the knowledge have 
210:212,22@a   | been extended through her family! ~~ But this was a vain 
210:212,23@a   | idea.  She must talk to $PN#K$Lady*Russell, tell her, consult 
210:212,24@a   | with her, and having done her best, wait the event with 
210:212,25@a   | as much composure as possible; and after all, her greatest 
210:212,26@a   | want of composure would be in that quarter of the mind 
210:212,27@a   | which could not be opened to $PN#K$Lady*Russell, in that flow 
210:212,28@a   | of anxieties and fears which must be all to herself. 
210:212,29['  ]| She found, on reaching home, that she had, as she 
210:212,30['  ]| intended, escaped seeing $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot; that he had called 
210:212,31['  ]| and paid them a long morning visit; but hardly had she 
210:212,32['  ]| congratulated herself, and felt safe till to-morrow, when 
210:212,33['  ]| she heard that he was coming again in the evening. 
210:213,01[H  ]| "I had not the smallest intention of asking him," 
210:213,01['  ]| said 
210:213,02['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth, with affected carelessness, 
210:213,02[H  ]| "but he gave so 
210:213,03[H  ]| many hints; so $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay says, at least." 
210:213,04[C  ]| "Indeed I do say it.  I never saw any*body in my 
210:213,05[C  ]| life spell harder for an invitation.  Poor man!  I was 
210:213,06[C  ]| really in pain for him; for your hard-hearted sister, $PN#A$Miss*Anne, 
210:213,07[C  ]| seems bent on cruelty." 
210:213,08[H  ]| "Oh!" 
210:213,08['  ]| cried $PN#H$Elizabeth, 
210:213,08[H  ]| "I have been rather too much 
210:213,09[H  ]| used to the game to be soon overcome by a gentleman's 
210:213,10[H  ]| hints.  However, when I found how excessively he was 
210:213,11[H  ]| regretting that he should miss my father this morning, 
210:213,12[H  ]| I gave way immediately, for I would never really omit 
210:213,13[H  ]| an opportunity of bringing him and $PN#G$Sir*Walter together. 
210:213,14[H  ]| They appear to so much advantage in company with each 
210:213,15[H  ]| other!  Each behaving so pleasantly!  $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot looking 
210:213,16[H  ]| up with so much respect!" 
210:213,17[C  ]| "Quite delightful!" 
210:213,17['  ]| cried $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay, not daring, however, 
210:213,18['  ]| to turn her eyes towards $PN#A$Anne. 
210:213,18[C  ]| "Exactly like 
210:213,19[C  ]| father and son!  Dear $PN#H$Miss*Elliot, may I not say father 
210:213,20[C  ]| and son?" 
210:213,21[H  ]| "Oh! I lay no embargo on any*body's words.  If you 
210:213,22[H  ]| will have such ideas!  But, upon my word, I am scarcely 
210:213,23[H  ]| sensible of his attentions being beyond those of other 
210:213,24[H  ]| men." 
210:213,25[C  ]| "My dear $PN#H$Miss*Elliot!" 
210:213,25['  ]| exclaimed $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay, lifting 
210:213,26['  ]| up her hands and eyes, and sinking all the rest of her 
210:213,27['  ]| astonishment in a convenient silence. 
210:213,28[H  ]| "Well, my dear $PN#C$Penelope, you need not be so alarmed 
210:213,29[H  ]| about him.  I did invite him, you know.  I sent him 
210:213,30[H  ]| away with smiles.  When I found he was really going to 
210:213,31[H  ]| his friends at Thornberry-park for the whole day to-morrow, 
210:213,32[H  ]| I had compassion on him." 
210:213,33['  ]| $PN#A$Anne admired the good acting of the friend, in being 
210:213,34['  ]| able to shew such pleasure as she did, in the expectation, 
210:213,35['  ]| and in the actual arrival of the very person whose presence 
210:213,36['  ]| must really be interfering with her prime object.  
210:213,36@a   | It was 
210:213,37@a   | impossible but that $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay must hate the sight of 
210:213,38@a   | $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot; and yet she could assume a most obliging, 
210:214,01@a   | placid look, and appear quite satisfied with the curtailed 
210:214,02@a   | license of devoting herself only half as much to $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
210:214,03@a   | as she would have done otherwise. 
210:214,04['  ]| To $PN#A$Anne herself it was most distressing to see $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot 
210:214,05['  ]| enter the room; and quite painful to have him approach 
210:214,06['  ]| and speak to her.  She had been used before to feel that 
210:214,07['  ]| he could not be always quite sincere, but now she saw 
210:214,08['  ]| insincerity in every*thing.  His attentive deference to her 
210:214,09['  ]| father, contrasted with his former language, was odious; 
210:214,10['  ]| and when she thought of his cruel conduct towards 
210:214,11['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, she could hardly bear the sight of his present 
210:214,12['  ]| smiles and mildness, or the sound of his artificial good 
210:214,13['  ]| sentiments.  She meant to avoid any such alteration of 
210:214,14['  ]| manners as might provoke a remonstrance on his side. 
210:214,15['  ]| It was a great object with her to escape all enquiry or 
210:214,16['  ]| eclat; but it was her intention to be as decidedly cool 
210:214,17['  ]| to him as might be compatible with their relationship, 
210:214,18['  ]| and to retrace, as quietly as she could, the few steps of 
210:214,19['  ]| unnecessary intimacy she had been gradually led along. 
210:214,20['  ]| She was accordingly more guarded, and more cool, than 
210:214,21['  ]| she had been the night before. 
210:214,22['  ]| He wanted to animate her curiosity again as to how 
210:214,23['  ]| and where he could have heard her formerly praised; 
210:214,24['  ]| wanted very much to be gratified by more solicitation; 
210:214,25['  ]| but the charm was broken:  he found that the heat and 
210:214,26['  ]| animation of a public room were necessary to kindle his 
210:214,27['  ]| modest cousin's vanity; he found, at least, that it was 
210:214,28['  ]| not to be done now, by any of those attempts which he 
210:214,29['  ]| could hazard among the too-commanding claims of the 
210:214,30['  ]| others.  He little surmised that it was a subject acting 
210:214,31['  ]| now exactly against his interest, bringing immediately 
210:214,32['  ]| into her thoughts all those parts of his conduct which 
210:214,33['  ]| were least excusable. 
210:214,34['  ]| She had some satisfaction in finding that he was really 
210:214,35['  ]| going out of Bath the next morning, going early, and 
210:214,36['  ]| that he would be gone the greater part of two days.  He 
210:214,37['  ]| was invited again to Camden-place the very evening of 
210:214,38['  ]| his return; but from Thursday to Saturday evening his 
210:215,01['  ]| absence was certain. 
210:215,01@a   | It was bad enough that a $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay 
210:215,02@a   | should be always before her; but that a deeper hypocrite 
210:215,03@a   | should be added to their party, seemed the destruction of 
210:215,04@a   | every*thing like peace and comfort.  It was so humiliating 
210:215,05@a   | to reflect on the constant deception practised on her father 
210:215,06@a   | and $PN#H$Elizabeth; to consider the various sources of mortification 
210:215,07@a   | preparing for them!  $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay's selfishness was 
210:215,08@a   | not so complicate nor so revolting as his; 
210:215,08['  ]| and $PN#A$Anne 
210:215,09['  ]| would have compounded for the marriage at once, with 
210:215,10['  ]| all its evils, to be clear of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's subtleties, in 
210:215,11['  ]| endeavouring to prevent it. 
210:215,12['  ]| On Friday morning she meant to go very early to 
210:215,13['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell, and accomplish the necessary communication; 
210:215,14['  ]| and she would have gone directly after breakfast 
210:215,15['  ]| but that $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay was also going out on some obliging 
210:215,16['  ]| purpose of saving her sister trouble, which determined 
210:215,17['  ]| her to wait till she might be safe from such a companion. 
210:215,18['  ]| She saw $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay fairly off, therefore, before she began 
210:215,19['  ]| to talk of spending the morning in Rivers-street. 
210:215,20[H  ]| "Very well," 
210:215,20['  ]| said $PN#H$Elizabeth, 
210:215,20[H  ]| "I have nothing to send 
210:215,21[H  ]| but my love.  Oh! you may as well take back that 
210:215,22[H  ]| tiresome book she would lend me, and pretend I have 
210:215,23[H  ]| read it through.  I really cannot be plaguing myself for*ever 
210:215,24[H  ]| with all the new poems and states of the nation 
210:215,25[H  ]| that come out.  $PN#K$Lady*Russell quite bores one with her 
210:215,26[H  ]| new publications.  You need not tell her so, but I thought 
210:215,27[H  ]| her dress hideous the other night.  I used to think she 
210:215,28[H  ]| had some taste in dress, but I was ashamed of her at 
210:215,29[H  ]| the concert.  Something so formal and \arrange=\ in her air! 
210:215,30[H  ]| and she sits so upright!  My best love, of course." 
210:215,31[G  ]| "And mine," 
210:215,31['  ]| added $PN#G$Sir*Walter. 
210:215,31[G  ]| "Kindest regards. 
210:215,32[G  ]| And you may say, that I mean to call upon her soon. 
210:215,33[G  ]| Make a civil message.  But I shall only leave my card. 
210:215,34[G  ]| Morning visits are never fair by women at her time of 
210:215,35[G  ]| life, who make themselves up so little.  If she would only 
210:215,36[G  ]| wear rouge, she would not be afraid of being seen; but 
210:215,37[G  ]| last time I called, I observed the blinds were let down 
210:215,38[G  ]| immediately." 
210:216,01['  ]| While her father spoke, there was a knock at the door. 
210:216,02['  ]| Who could it be?  $PN#A$Anne, remembering the preconcerted 
210:216,03['  ]| visits, at all hours, of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, would have expected 
210:216,04['  ]| him, but for his known engagement seven miles off. 
210:216,05['  ]| After the usual period of suspense, the usual sounds of 
210:216,06['  ]| approach were heard, and 
210:216,06[X  ]| "$PN#O$Mr% and $PN#P$Mrs%*Charles*Musgrove" 
210:216,07['  ]| were ushered into the room. 
210:216,08['  ]| Surprise was the strongest emotion raised by their 
210:216,09['  ]| appearance; but $PN#A$Anne was really glad to see them; and 
210:216,10['  ]| the others were not so sorry but that they could put on 
210:216,11['  ]| a decent air of welcome; and as soon as it became clear 
210:216,12['  ]| that these, their nearest relations, were not arrived with 
210:216,13['  ]| any views of accommodation in that house, $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
210:216,14['  ]| and $PN#H$Elizabeth were able to rise in cordiality, and do the 
210:216,15['  ]| honours of it very well.  They were come to Bath for 
210:216,16['  ]| a few days with $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, and were at the White*Hart. 
210:216,17['  ]| So much was pretty soon understood; but till 
210:216,18['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter and $PN#H$Elizabeth were walking $PN#P$Mary into the 
210:216,19['  ]| other drawing-room, and regaling themselves with her 
210:216,20['  ]| admiration, $PN#A$Anne could not draw upon $PN#O$Charles's brain 
210:216,21['  ]| for a regular history of their coming, or an explanation 
210:216,22['  ]| of some smiling hints of particular business, which had 
210:216,23['  ]| been ostentatiously dropped by $PN#P$Mary, as well as of some 
210:216,24['  ]| apparent confusion as to whom their party consisted of. 
210:216,25['  ]| She then found that it consisted of $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, 
210:216,26['  ]| $PN#R$Henrietta, and $PN#J$Captain*Harville, beside their two selves. 
210:216,27['  ]| He gave her a very plain, intelligible account of the 
210:216,28['  ]| whole; a narration in which she saw a great deal of most 
210:216,29['  ]| characteristic proceeding. 
210:216,29@o   | The scheme had received its 
210:216,30@o   | first impulse by $PN#J$Captain*Harville's wanting to come to 
210:216,31@o   | Bath on business.  He had begun to talk of it a week ago; 
210:216,32@o   | and by way of doing something, as shooting was over, 
210:216,33@o   | $PN#O$Charles had proposed coming with him, and $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville 
210:216,34@o   | had seemed to like the idea of it very much, as an 
210:216,35@o   | advantage to her husband; but $PN#P$Mary could not bear to 
210:216,36@o   | be left, and had made herself so unhappy about it that, 
210:216,37@o   | for a day or two, every*thing seemed to be in suspense, 
210:216,38@o   | or at an end.  But then, it had been taken up by his 
210:217,01@o   | father and mother.  His mother had some old friends in 
210:217,02@o   | Bath, whom she wanted to see; it was thought a good 
210:217,03@o   | opportunity for $PN#R$Henrietta to come and buy wedding-clothes 
210:217,04@o   | for herself and her sister; and, in short, it ended 
210:217,05@o   | in being his mother's party, that every*thing might be 
210:217,06@o   | comfortable and easy to $PN#J$Captain*Harville; and he and 
210:217,07@o   | $PN#P$Mary were included in it, by way of general convenience. 
210:217,08@o   | They had arrived late the night before.  $PN#V$Mrs%*Harville, her 
210:217,09@o   | children, and $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, remained with $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove 
210:217,10@o   | and $PN#M$Louisa at Uppercross. 
210:217,11['  ]| $PN#A$Anne's only surprise was, that affairs should be in 
210:217,12['  ]| forwardness enough for $PN#R$Henrietta's wedding-clothes to be 
210:217,13['  ]| talked of:  she had imagined such difficulties of fortune 
210:217,14['  ]| to exist there as must prevent the marriage from being 
210:217,15['  ]| near at hand; but she learned from $PN#O$Charles that, very 
210:217,16['  ]| recently, (since $PN#P$Mary's last letter to herself) $PN#L$Charles*Hayter 
210:217,17['  ]| had been applied to by a friend to hold a living 
210:217,18['  ]| for a youth who could not possibly claim it under many 
210:217,19['  ]| years; and that, on the strength of this present income, 
210:217,20['  ]| with almost a certainty of something more permanent 
210:217,21['  ]| long before the term in question, the two families had 
210:217,22['  ]| consented to the young people's wishes, and that their 
210:217,23['  ]| marriage was likely to take place in a few months, quite 
210:217,24['  ]| as soon as $PN#M$Louisa's. 
210:217,24[O  ]| "And a very good living it was," 
210:217,25['  ]| $PN#O$Charles added, 
210:217,25[O  ]| "only five-and-twenty miles from Uppercross, 
210:217,26[O  ]| and in a very fine country ~~ fine part of Dorsetshire. 
210:217,27[O  ]| In the centre of some of the best preserves in the kingdom, 
210:217,28[O  ]| surrounded by three great proprietors, each more careful 
210:217,29[O  ]| and jealous than the other; and to two of the three, at 
210:217,30[O  ]| least, $PN#L$Charles*Hayter might get a special recommendation. 
210:217,31[O  ]| Not that he will value it as he ought," 
210:217,31['  ]| he observed, 
210:217,32[O  ]| "$PN#L$Charles is too cool about sporting.  That's the worst 
210:217,33[O  ]| of him." 
210:217,34[A  ]| "I am extremely glad, indeed," 
210:217,34['  ]| cried $PN#A$Anne, 
210:217,34[A  ]| "particularly 
210:217,35[A  ]| glad that this should happen:  and that of two 
210:217,36[A  ]| sisters, who both deserve equally well, and who have 
210:217,37[A  ]| always been such good friends, the pleasant prospects of 
210:217,38[A  ]| one should not be dimming those of the other ~~ that they 
210:218,01[A  ]| should be so equal in their prosperity and comfort.  I hope 
210:218,02[A  ]| your father and mother are quite happy with regard to 
210:218,03[A  ]| both." 
210:218,04[O  ]| "Oh! yes.  My father would be as well pleased if 
210:218,05[O  ]| the gentlemen were richer, but he has no other fault to 
210:218,06[O  ]| find.  Money, you know, coming down with money ~~ two 
210:218,07[O  ]| daughters at once ~~ it cannot be a very agreeable operation, 
210:218,08[O  ]| and it streightens him as to many things.  However, 
210:218,09[O  ]| I do not mean to say they have not a right to it.  It is 
210:218,10[O  ]| very fit they should have daughters' shares; and I am 
210:218,11[O  ]| sure he has always been a very kind, liberal father to 
210:218,12[O  ]| me.  $PN#P$Mary does not above half like $PN#R$Henrietta's match. 
210:218,13[O  ]| She never did, you know.  But she does not do him 
210:218,14[O  ]| justice, nor think enough about Winthrop.  I cannot 
210:218,15[O  ]| make her attend to the value of the property.  It is 
210:218,16[O  ]| a very fair match, as times go; and I have liked $PN#L$Charles*Hayter 
210:218,17[O  ]| all my life, and I shall not leave off now." 
210:218,18[A  ]| "Such excellent parents as $PN#W$Mr% and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove," 
210:218,19['  ]| exclaimed $PN#A$Anne, 
210:218,19[A  ]| "should be happy in their children's 
210:218,20[A  ]| marriages.  They do every*thing to confer happiness, 
210:218,21[A  ]| I am sure.  What a blessing to young people to be in 
210:218,22[A  ]| such hands!  Your father and mother seem so totally 
210:218,23[A  ]| free from all those ambitious feelings which have led to 
210:218,24[A  ]| so much misconduct and misery, both in young and old! 
210:218,25[A  ]| I hope you think $PN#M$Louisa perfectly recovered now?" 
210:218,26['  ]| He answered rather hesitatingly, 
210:218,26[O  ]| "Yes, I believe I do ~~ 
210:218,27[O  ]| very much recovered; but she is altered:  there is no 
210:218,28[O  ]| running or jumping about, no laughing or dancing; it is 
210:218,29[O  ]| quite different.  If one happens only to shut the door 
210:218,30[O  ]| a little hard, she starts and wriggles like a young dab*chick 
210:218,31[O  ]| in the water; and $PN#ZD$Benwick sits at her elbow, 
210:218,32[O  ]| reading verses, or whispering to her, all day long." 
210:218,33['  ]| $PN#A$Anne could not help laughing. 
210:218,33[A  ]| "That cannot be much 
210:218,34[A  ]| to your taste, I know," 
210:218,34['  ]| said she; 
210:218,34[A  ]| "but I do believe him 
210:218,35[A  ]| to be an excellent young man." 
210:218,36[O  ]| "To be sure he is.  Nobody doubts it; and I hope 
210:218,37[O  ]| you do not think I am so illiberal as to want every man 
210:218,38[O  ]| to have the same objects and pleasures as myself.  I have 
210:219,01[O  ]| a great value for $PN#ZD$Benwick; and when one can but get 
210:219,02[O  ]| him to talk, he has plenty to say.  His reading has done 
210:219,03[O  ]| him no harm, for he has fought as well as read.  He is 
210:219,04[O  ]| a brave fellow.  I got more acquainted with him last 
210:219,05[O  ]| Monday than ever I did before.  We had a famous set-to 
210:219,06[O  ]| at rat-hunting all the morning, in my father's great barns; 
210:219,07[O  ]| and he played his part so well, that I have liked him the 
210:219,08[O  ]| better ever since." 
210:219,09['  ]| Here they were interrupted by the absolute necessity 
210:219,10['  ]| of $PN#O$Charles's following the others to admire mirrors and 
210:219,11['  ]| china; but $PN#A$Anne had heard enough to understand the 
210:219,12['  ]| present state of Uppercross, and rejoice in its happiness; 
210:219,13['  ]| and though she sighed as she rejoiced, her sigh had none 
210:219,14['  ]| of the ill-will of envy in it.  She would certainly have 
210:219,15['  ]| risen to their blessings if she could, but she did not want 
210:219,16['  ]| to lessen theirs. 
210:219,17['  ]| The visit passed off altogether in high good*humour. 
210:219,18['  ]| $PN#P$Mary was in excellent spirits, enjoying the gaiety and the 
210:219,19['  ]| change; and so well satisfied with the journey in her 
210:219,20['  ]| mother-in-law's carriage with four horses, and with her 
210:219,21['  ]| own complete independence of Camden-place, that she 
210:219,22['  ]| was exactly in a temper to admire every*thing as she 
210:219,23['  ]| ought, and enter most readily into all the superiorities 
210:219,24['  ]| of the house, as they were detailed to her.  She had no 
210:219,25['  ]| demands on her father or sister, and her consequence was 
210:219,26['  ]| just enough increased by their handsome drawing-rooms. 
210:219,27['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth was, for a short time, suffering a good deal. 
210:219,28['  ]| She felt that $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove and all her party ought to 
210:219,29['  ]| be asked to dine with them, but she could not bear to 
210:219,30['  ]| have the difference of style, the reduction of servants, 
210:219,31['  ]| which a dinner must betray, witnessed by those who had 
210:219,32['  ]| been always so inferior to the $PN#G1$Elliots*of*Kellynch.  It 
210:219,33['  ]| was a struggle between propriety and vanity; but vanity 
210:219,34['  ]| got the better, and then $PN#H$Elizabeth was happy again. 
210:219,35['  ]| These were her internal persuasions. ~~ 
210:219,35@h   | "Old*fashioned 
210:219,36@h   | notions ~~ country hospitality ~~ we do not profess to give 
210:219,37@h   | dinners ~~ few people in Bath do ~~ $PN#ZA$Lady*Alicia never does; 
210:219,38@h   | did not even ask her own sister's family, though they 
210:220,01@h   | were here a month:  and I dare say it would be very 
210:220,02@h   | inconvenient to $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove ~~ put her quite out of her 
210:220,03@h   | way.  I am sure she would rather not come ~~ she cannot 
210:220,04@h   | feel easy with us.  I will ask them all for an evening; that 
210:220,05@h   | will be much better ~~ that will be a novelty and a treat. 
210:220,06@h   | They have not seen two such drawing*rooms before. 
210:220,07@h   | They will be delighted to come to-morrow evening.  It 
210:220,08@h   | shall be a regular party ~~ small, but most elegant." 
210:220,08['  ]| And 
210:220,09['  ]| this satisfied $PN#H$Elizabeth:  and when the invitation was 
210:220,10['  ]| given to the two present, and promised for the absent, 
210:220,11['  ]| $PN#P$Mary was as completely satisfied.  She was particularly 
210:220,12['  ]| asked to meet $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, and be introduced to $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple 
210:220,13['  ]| and $PN#ZH$Miss*Carteret, who were fortunately already 
210:220,14['  ]| engaged to come; and she could not have received a more 
210:220,15['  ]| gratifying attention.  $PN#H$Miss*Elliot was to have the honour 
210:220,16['  ]| of calling on $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove in the course of the morning, 
210:220,17['  ]| and $PN#A$Anne walked off with $PN#O$Charles and $PN#P$Mary, to go and 
210:220,18['  ]| see her and $PN#R$Henrietta directly. 
210:220,19['  ]| Her plan of sitting with $PN#K$Lady*Russell must give way 
210:220,20['  ]| for the present.  They all three called in Rivers-street 
210:220,21['  ]| for a couple of minutes; but $PN#A$Anne convinced herself 
210:220,22['  ]| that a day's delay of the intended communication could 
210:220,23['  ]| be of no consequence, and hastened forward to the White*Hart, 
210:220,24['  ]| to see again the friends and companions of the last 
210:220,25['  ]| autumn, with an eagerness of good*will which many 
210:220,26['  ]| associations contributed to form. 
210:220,27['  ]| They found $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove and her daughter within, 
210:220,28['  ]| and by themselves, and $PN#A$Anne had the kindest welcome 
210:220,29['  ]| from each.  $PN#R$Henrietta was exactly in that state of 
210:220,30['  ]| recently-improved views, of fresh-formed happiness, which 
210:220,31['  ]| made her full of regard and interest for every*body she 
210:220,32['  ]| had ever liked before at all; and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove's real 
210:220,33['  ]| affection had been won by her usefulness when they were 
210:220,34['  ]| in distress.  It was a heartiness, and a warmth, and 
210:220,35['  ]| a sincerity which $PN#A$Anne delighted in the more, from the 
210:220,36['  ]| sad want of such blessings at home.  She was intreated 
210:220,37['  ]| to give them as much of her time as possible, invited for 
210:220,38['  ]| every day and all day long, or rather claimed as a part of 
210:221,01['  ]| the family; and in return, she naturally fell into all her 
210:221,02['  ]| wonted ways of attention and assistance, and on $PN#O$Charles's 
210:221,03['  ]| leaving them together, was listening to $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove's 
210:221,04['  ]| history of $PN#M$Louisa, and to $PN#R$Henrietta's of herself, giving 
210:221,05['  ]| opinions on business, and recommendations to shops; 
210:221,06['  ]| with intervals of every help which $PN#P$Mary required, from 
210:221,07['  ]| altering her ribbon to settling her accounts, from finding 
210:221,08['  ]| her keys, and assorting her trinkets, to trying to convince 
210:221,09['  ]| her that she was not ill*used by any*body; which $PN#P$Mary, 
210:221,10['  ]| well amused as she generally was in her station at a window 
210:221,11['  ]| overlooking the entrance to the pump-room, could not 
210:221,12['  ]| but have her moments of imagining. 
210:221,13['  ]| A morning of thorough confusion was to be expected. 
210:221,14['  ]| A large party in an hotel ensured a quick-changing, 
210:221,15['  ]| unsettled scene.  One five minutes brought a note, the 
210:221,16['  ]| next a parcel, and $PN#A$Anne had not been there half an hour, 
210:221,17['  ]| when their dining-room, spacious as it was, seemed more 
210:221,18['  ]| than half filled:  a party of steady old friends were seated 
210:221,19['  ]| round $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, and $PN#O$Charles came back with 
$PN#J$Captains*Harville 
210:221,20['  ]| and $PN#B$Wentworth.  The appearance of the 
210:221,21['  ]| latter could not be more than the surprise of the moment. 
210:221,22['  ]| It was impossible for her to have forgotten to feel, that 
210:221,23['  ]| this arrival of their common friends must be soon bringing 
210:221,24['  ]| them together again.  Their last meeting had been most 
210:221,25['  ]| important in opening his feelings; she had derived from 
210:221,26['  ]| it a delightful conviction; but she feared from his looks, 
210:221,27['  ]| that the same unfortunate persuasion, which had hastened 
210:221,28['  ]| him away from the concert*room, still governed.  He did 
210:221,29['  ]| not seem to want to be near enough for conversation. 
210:221,30['  ]| She tried to be calm, and leave things to take their 
210:221,31['  ]| course; and tried to dwell much on his argument of 
210:221,32['  ]| rational dependance ~~ 
210:221,32@a   | "Surely, if there be constant 
210:221,33@a   | attachment on each side, our hearts must understand 
210:221,34@a   | each other ere long.  We are not boy and girl, to be 
210:221,35@a   | captiously irritable, misled by every moment's inadvertence, 
210:221,36@a   | and wantonly playing with our own happiness." 
210:221,37['  ]| And yet, a few minutes afterwards, she felt as if their 
210:221,38['  ]| being in company with each other, under their present 
210:222,01['  ]| circumstances, could only be exposing them to inadvertencies 
210:222,02['  ]| and misconstructions of the most mischievous 
210:222,03['  ]| kind. 
210:222,04[P  ]| "$PN#A$Anne," 
210:222,04['  ]| cried $PN#P$Mary, still at her window, 
210:222,04[P  ]| "there is 
210:222,05[P  ]| $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay, I am sure, standing under the colonnade, and 
210:222,06[P  ]| a gentleman with her.  I saw them turn the corner from 
210:222,07[P  ]| Bath-street just now.  They seem deep in talk.  Who is 
210:222,08[P  ]| it? ~~ Come, and tell me.  Good heavens!  I recollect. ~~ 
210:222,09[P  ]| It is $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot himself." 
210:222,10[A  ]| "No," 
210:222,10['  ]| cried $PN#A$Anne quickly, 
210:222,10[A  ]| "it cannot be $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, 
210:222,11[A  ]| I assure you.  He was to leave Bath at nine this morning, 
210:222,12[A  ]| and does not come back till to-morrow." 
210:222,13['  ]| As she spoke, she felt that $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was 
210:222,14['  ]| looking at her; the consciousness of which vexed and 
210:222,15['  ]| embarrassed her, and made her regret that she had said 
210:222,16['  ]| so much, simple as it was. 
210:222,17['  ]| $PN#P$Mary, resenting that she should be supposed not to 
210:222,18['  ]| know her own cousin, began talking very warmly about 
210:222,19['  ]| the family features, and protesting still more positively 
210:222,20['  ]| that it was $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, calling again upon $PN#A$Anne to come 
210:222,21['  ]| and look herself; but $PN#A$Anne did not mean to stir, and 
210:222,22['  ]| tried to be cool and unconcerned.  Her distress returned, 
210:222,23['  ]| however, on perceiving smiles and intelligent glances pass 
210:222,24['  ]| between two or three of the lady visitors, as if they 
210:222,25['  ]| believed themselves quite in the secret.  
210:222,25@a   | It was evident 
210:222,26@a   | that the report concerning her had spread; and a short 
210:222,27@a   | pause succeeded, which seemed to ensure that it would 
210:222,28@a   | now spread further. 
210:222,29[P  ]| "Do come, $PN#A$Anne," 
210:222,29['  ]| cried $PN#P$Mary, 
210:222,29[P  ]| "come and look yourself. 
210:222,30[P  ]| You will be too late, if you do not make haste. 
210:222,31[P  ]| They are parting, they are shaking hands.  He is turning 
210:222,32[P  ]| away.  Not know $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, indeed! ~~ You seem to have 
210:222,33[P  ]| forgot all about Lyme." 
210:222,34['  ]| To pacify $PN#P$Mary, and perhaps screen her own embarrassment, 
210:222,35['  ]| $PN#A$Anne did move quietly to the window.  She was 
210:222,36['  ]| just in time to ascertain that it really was $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot 
210:222,37['  ]| (which she had never believed), before he disappeared on 
210:222,38['  ]| one side, as $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay walked quickly off on the other; 
210:223,01['  ]| and checking the surprise which she could not but feel 
210:223,02['  ]| at such an appearance of friendly conference between two 
210:223,03['  ]| persons of totally opposite interests, she calmly said, 
210:223,04[A  ]| "Yes, it is $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot certainly.  He has changed his 
210:223,05[A  ]| hour of going, I suppose, that is all ~~ or I may be mistaken; 
210:223,06[A  ]| I might not attend;" 
210:223,06['  ]| and walked back to her 
210:223,07['  ]| chair, recomposed, and with the comfortable hope of 
210:223,08['  ]| having acquitted herself well. 
210:223,09['  ]| The visitors took their leave; and $PN#O$Charles, having 
210:223,10['  ]| civilly seen them off, and then made a face at them, and 
210:223,11['  ]| abused them for coming, began with ~~ 
210:223,12[O  ]| "Well, mother, I have done something for you that 
210:223,13[O  ]| you will like.  I have been to the theatre, and secured 
210:223,14[O  ]| a box for to-morrow night.  A'n't I a good boy?  I know 
210:223,15[O  ]| you love a play; and there is room for us all.  It holds 
210:223,16[O  ]| nine.  I have engaged $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth.  $PN#A$Anne will 
210:223,17[O  ]| not be sorry to join us, I am sure.  We all like a play. 
210:223,18[O  ]| Have not I done well, mother?" 
210:223,19['  ]| $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove was good*humouredly beginning to 
210:223,20['  ]| express her perfect readiness for the play, if $PN#R$Henrietta 
210:223,21['  ]| and all the others liked it, when $PN#P$Mary eagerly interrupted 
210:223,22['  ]| her by exclaiming, 
210:223,23[P  ]| "Good heavens, $PN#O$Charles! how can you think of such 
210:223,24[P  ]| a thing?  Take a box for to-morrow night!  Have you 
210:223,25[P  ]| forgot that we are engaged to Camden-place to-morrow 
210:223,26[P  ]| night? and that we were most particularly asked on 
210:223,27[P  ]| purpose to meet $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple and her daughter, and 
210:223,28[P  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot ~~ all the principal family connexions ~~ on purpose 
210:223,29[P  ]| to be introduced to them?  How can you be so 
210:223,30[P  ]| forgetful?" 
210:223,31[O  ]| "Phoo! phoo!" 
210:223,31['  ]| replied $PN#O$Charles, 
210:223,31[O  ]| "what's an evening 
210:223,32[O  ]| party?  Never worth remembering.  Your father might 
210:223,33[O  ]| have asked us to dinner, I think, if he had wanted to see 
210:223,34[O  ]| us.  You may do as you like, but I shall go to the play." 
210:223,35[P  ]| "Oh! $PN#O$Charles, I declare it will be too abominable if 
210:223,36[P  ]| you do! when you promised to go." 
210:223,37[O  ]| "No, I did not promise.  I only smirked and bowed, 
210:223,38[O  ]| and said the word ""happy.""  There was no promise." 
210:224,01[P  ]| "But you must go, $PN#O$Charles.  It would be unpardonable 
210:224,02[P  ]| to fail.  We were asked on purpose to be introduced. 
210:224,03[P  ]| There was always such a great connexion between the 
210:224,04[P  ]| $PN#V1$Dalrymples and ourselves.  Nothing ever happened on 
210:224,05[P  ]| either side that was not announced immediately.  We 
210:224,06[P  ]| are quite near relations, you know:  and $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot too, 
210:224,07[P  ]| whom you ought to particularly to be acquainted with! 
210:224,08[P  ]| Every attention is due to $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot.  Consider, my 
210:224,09[P  ]| father's heir ~~ the future representative of the family." 
210:224,10[O  ]| "Don't talk to me about heirs and representatives," 
210:224,11['  ]| cried $PN#O$Charles. 
210:224,11[O  ]| "I am not one of those who neglect the 
210:224,12[O  ]| reigning power to bow to the rising sun.  If I would not go 
210:224,13[O  ]| for the sake of your father, I should think it scandalous to 
210:224,14[O  ]| go for the sake of his heir.  What is $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot to me?" 
210:224,15['  ]| The careless expression was life to $PN#A$Anne, who saw 
210:224,16['  ]| that $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was all attention, looking and 
210:224,17['  ]| listening with his whole soul; and that the last words 
210:224,18['  ]| brought his enquiring eyes from $PN#O$Charles to herself. 
210:224,19['  ]| $PN#O$Charles and $PN#P$Mary still talked on in the same style; 
210:224,20['  ]| he, half serious and half jesting, maintaining the scheme 
210:224,21['  ]| for the play; and she, invariably serious, most warmly 
210:224,22['  ]| opposing it, and not omitting to make it known, that 
210:224,23['  ]| however determined to go to Camden-place herself, she 
210:224,24['  ]| should not think herself very well*used, if they went to 
210:224,25['  ]| the play without her.  $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove interposed. 
210:224,26[N  ]| "We had better put it off.  $PN#O$Charles, you had much 
210:224,27[N  ]| better go back, and change the box for Tuesday.  It 
210:224,28[N  ]| would be a pity to be divided, and we should be losing 
210:224,29[N  ]| $PN#A$Miss*Anne too, if there is a party at her father's; and 
210:224,30[N  ]| I am sure neither $PN#R$Henrietta nor I should care at all for 
210:224,31[N  ]| the play, if $PN#A$Miss*Anne could not be with us." 
210:224,32['  ]| $PN#A$Anne felt truly obliged to her for such kindness; and 
210:224,33['  ]| quite as much so, moreover, for the opportunity it gave 
210:224,34['  ]| her of decidedly saying ~~ 
210:224,35[A  ]| "If it depended only on my inclination, ma'am, the 
210:224,36[A  ]| party at home (excepting on $PN#P$Mary's account) would not 
210:224,37[A  ]| be the smallest impediment.  I have no pleasure in the 
210:224,38[A  ]| sort of meeting, and should be too happy to change it 
210:225,01[A  ]| for a play, and with you.  But, it had better not be 
210:225,02[A  ]| attempted, perhaps." 
210:225,03['  ]| She had spoken it; but she trembled when it was 
210:225,04['  ]| done, conscious that her words were listened to, and 
210:225,05['  ]| daring not even to try to observe their effect. 
210:225,06['  ]| It was soon generally agreed that Tuesday should be 
210:225,07['  ]| the day, $PN#O$Charles only reserving the advantage of still 
210:225,08['  ]| teasing his wife, by persisting that 
210:225,08@o   | he would go to the 
210:225,09@o   | play to-morrow, if nobody else would. 
210:225,10['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth left his seat, and walked to the 
210:225,11['  ]| fire-place; probably for the sake of walking away from 
210:225,12['  ]| it soon afterwards, and taking a station, with less bare-faced 
210:225,13['  ]| design, by $PN#A$Anne. 
210:225,14[B  ]| "You have not been long enough in Bath," 
210:225,14['  ]| said he, 
210:225,15[B  ]| "to enjoy the evening parties of the place." 
210:225,16[A  ]| "Oh! no.  The usual character of them has nothing 
210:225,17[A  ]| for me.  I am no card-player." 
210:225,18[B  ]| "You were not formerly, I know.  You did not use 
210:225,19[B  ]| to like cards; but time makes many changes." 
210:225,20[A  ]| "I am not yet so much changed," 
210:225,20['  ]| cried $PN#A$Anne, and 
210:225,21['  ]| stopped, fearing she hardly knew what misconstruction. 
210:225,22['  ]| After waiting a few moments he said ~~ and as if it were 
210:225,23['  ]| the result of immediate feeling ~~ 
210:225,23[B  ]| "It is a period, indeed! 
210:225,24[B  ]| Eight years and a half is a period!" 
210:225,25['  ]| Whether he would have proceeded farther was left to 
210:225,26['  ]| $PN#A$Anne's imagination to ponder over in a calmer hour; for 
210:225,27['  ]| while still hearing the sounds he had uttered, she was 
210:225,28['  ]| startled to other subjects by $PN#R$Henrietta, eager to make 
210:225,29['  ]| use of the present leisure for getting out, and calling on 
210:225,30['  ]| her companions to lose no time, lest somebody else should 
210:225,31['  ]| come in. 
210:225,32['  ]| They were obliged to move.  $PN#A$Anne talked of being 
210:225,33['  ]| perfectly ready, and tried to look it; but she felt that 
210:225,34['  ]| could $PN#R$Henrietta have known the regret and reluctance of 
210:225,35['  ]| her heart in quitting that chair, in preparing to quit the 
210:225,36['  ]| room, she would have found, in all her own sensations 
210:225,37['  ]| for her cousin, in the very security of his affection, wherewith 
210:225,38['  ]| to pity her. 
210:226,01['  ]| Their preparations, however, were stopped short. 
210:226,02['  ]| Alarming sounds were heard; other visitors approached, 
210:226,03['  ]| and the door was thrown open for $PN#G$Sir*Walter and $PN#H$Miss*Elliot, 
210:226,04['  ]| whose entrance seemed to give a general chill. 
210:226,05['  ]| $PN#A$Anne felt an instant oppression, and, wherever she looked, 
210:226,06['  ]| saw symptoms of the same. 
210:226,06@a   | The comfort, the freedom, 
210:226,07@a   | the gaiety of the room was over, hushed into cold composure, 
210:226,08@a   | determined silence, or insipid talk, to meet the 
210:226,09@a   | heartless elegance of her father and sister.  How mortifying 
210:226,10@a   | to feel that it was so! 
210:226,11@a   | Her jealous eye was satisfied in one particular.  $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
210:226,12@a   | was acknowledged again by each, by $PN#H$Elizabeth 
210:226,13@a   | more graciously than before.  She even addressed 
210:226,14@a   | him once, and looked at him more than once. 
210:226,14['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth 
210:226,15['  ]| was, in fact, revolving a great measure.  The sequel 
210:226,16['  ]| explained it.  After the waste of a few minutes in saying 
210:226,17['  ]| the proper nothings, she began to give the invitation 
210:226,18['  ]| which was to comprise all the remaining dues of the 
210:226,19['  ]| $PN#W1$Musgroves. 
210:226,19[H  ]| "To-morrow evening, to meet a few friends, 
210:226,20[H  ]| no formal party." 
210:226,20['  ]| It was all said very gracefully, and 
210:226,21['  ]| the cards with which she had provided herself, the 
210:226,21[H  ]| $PN#H$Miss*Elliot 
210:226,22[H  ]| at home," 
210:226,22['  ]| were laid on the table, with a courteous, 
210:226,23['  ]| comprehensive smile to all; and one smile and one card 
210:226,24['  ]| more decidedly for $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth.  The truth was, 
210:226,25['  ]| that $PN#H$Elizabeth had been long enough in Bath, to understand 
210:226,26['  ]| the importance of a man of such an air and appearance 
210:226,27['  ]| as his.  The past was nothing.  The present was 
210:226,28['  ]| that $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth would move about well in her 
210:226,29['  ]| drawing-room.  The card was pointedly given, and $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
210:226,30['  ]| and $PN#H$Elizabeth arose and disappeared. 
210:226,31['  ]| The interruption had been short, though severe; and 
210:226,32['  ]| ease and animation returned to most of those they left, 
210:226,33['  ]| as the door shut them out, but not to $PN#A$Anne.  She could 
210:226,34['  ]| think only of the invitation she had with such astonishment 
210:226,35['  ]| witnessed; and of the manner in which it had been 
210:226,36['  ]| received, a manner of doubtful meaning, of surprise rather 
210:226,37['  ]| than gratification, of polite acknowledgment rather than 
210:226,38['  ]| acceptance.  She knew him; she saw disdain in his eye, 
210:227,01['  ]| and could not venture to believe that he had determined 
210:227,02['  ]| to accept such an offering, as atonement for all the 
210:227,03['  ]| insolence of the past.  Her spirits sank.  He held the 
210:227,04['  ]| card in his hand after they were gone, as if deeply considering 
210:227,05['  ]| it. 
210:227,06[P  ]| "Only think of $PN#H$Elizabeth's including every*body!" 
210:227,07['  ]| whispered $PN#P$Mary very audibly. 
210:227,07[P  ]| "I do not wonder $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
210:227,08[P  ]| is delighted!  You see he cannot put the card 
210:227,09[P  ]| out of his hand." 
210:227,10['  ]| $PN#A$Anne caught his eye, saw his cheeks glow, and his 
210:227,11['  ]| mouth form itself into a momentary expression of contempt, 
210:227,12['  ]| and turned away, that she might neither see nor 
210:227,13['  ]| hear more to vex her. 
210:227,14['  ]| The party separated.  The gentlemen had their own 
210:227,15['  ]| pursuits, the ladies proceeded on their own business, and 
210:227,16['  ]| they met no more while $PN#A$Anne belonged to them.  She 
210:227,17['  ]| was earnestly begged to return and dine, and give them 
210:227,18['  ]| all the rest of the day; but her spirits had been so long 
210:227,19['  ]| exerted, that at present she felt unequal to more, and 
210:227,20['  ]| fit only for home, where she might be sure of being as 
210:227,21['  ]| silent as she chose. 
210:227,22['  ]| Promising to be with them the whole of the following 
210:227,23['  ]| morning, therefore, she closed the fatigues of the present, 
210:227,24['  ]| by a toilsome walk to Camden-place, there to spend the 
210:227,25['  ]| evening chiefly in listening to the busy arrangements of 
210:227,26['  ]| $PN#H$Elizabeth and $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay for the morrow's party, the 
210:227,27['  ]| frequent enumeration of the persons invited, and the 
210:227,28['  ]| continually improving detail of all the embellishments 
210:227,29['  ]| which were to make it the most completely elegant of 
210:227,30['  ]| its kind in Bath, while harassing herself in secret with 
210:227,31['  ]| the never-ending question, of 
210:227,31@a   | whether $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
210:227,32@a   | would come or not?  They were reckoning him as certain, 
210:227,33@a   | but, with her, it was a gnawing solicitude never appeased 
210:227,34@a   | for five minutes together.  
210:227,34['  ]| She generally thought he would 
210:227,35['  ]| come, because she generally thought he ought; but it 
210:227,36['  ]| was a case which she could not so shape into any positive 
210:227,37['  ]| act of duty or discretion, as inevitably to defy the suggestions 
210:227,38['  ]| of very opposite feelings. 
210:228,01['  ]| She only roused herself from the broodings of this 
210:228,02['  ]| restless agitation, to let $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay know that she had 
210:228,03['  ]| been seen with $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot three hours after his being 
210:228,04['  ]| supposed to be out of Bath; for having watched in vain 
210:228,05['  ]| for some intimation of the interview from the lady herself, 
210:228,06['  ]| she determined to mention it; and it seemed to 
210:228,07['  ]| her that there was guilt in $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay's face as she listened. 
210:228,08['  ]| It was transient, cleared away in an instant, but $PN#A$Anne 
210:228,09['  ]| could imagine she read there the consciousness of having, 
210:228,10['  ]| by some complication of mutual trick, or some overbearing 
210:228,11['  ]| authority of his, been obliged to attend (perhaps for half 
210:228,12['  ]| an hour) to his lectures and restrictions on her designs 
210:228,13['  ]| on $PN#G$Sir*Walter.  She exclaimed, however, with a very 
210:228,14['  ]| tolerable imitation of nature, 
210:228,15[C  ]| "Oh dear! very true.  Only think, $PN#H$Miss*Elliot, to my 
210:228,16[C  ]| great surprise I met with $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot in Bath-street!  I was 
210:228,17[C  ]| never more astonished.  He turned back and walked with 
210:228,18[C  ]| me to the Pump-yard.  He had been prevented setting 
210:228,19[C  ]| off for Thornberry, but I really forget by what ~~ for I was 
210:228,20[C  ]| in a hurry, and could not much attend, and I can only 
210:228,21[C  ]| answer for his being determined not to be delayed in his 
210:228,22[C  ]| return.  He wanted to know how early he might be 
210:228,23[C  ]| admitted to-morrow.  He was full of ""to-morrow;"" and 
210:228,24[C  ]| it is very evident that I have been full of it too ever since 
210:228,25[C  ]| I entered the house, and learnt the extension of your 
210:228,26[C  ]| plan, and all that had happened, or my seeing him could 
210:228,27[C  ]| never have gone so entirely out of my head." 
211:229,01['  ]| One day only had passed since $PN#A$Anne's conversation 
211:229,02['  ]| with $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith; but a keener interest had succeeded, 
211:229,03['  ]| and she was now so little touched by $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's conduct, 
211:229,04['  ]| except by its effects in one quarter, that it became 
211:229,05['  ]| a matter of course the next morning, still to defer her 
211:229,06['  ]| explanatory visit in Rivers-street.  She had promised to 
211:229,07['  ]| be with the $PN#W1$Musgroves from breakfast to dinner.  Her 
211:229,08['  ]| faith was plighted, and $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's character, like the 
211:229,09['  ]| $PN#Z2$Sultaness*Scheherazade's head, must live another day. 
211:229,10['  ]| She could not keep her appointment punctually, however; 
211:229,11['  ]| the weather was unfavourable, and she had grieved 
211:229,12['  ]| over the rain on her friends' account, and felt it very 
211:229,13['  ]| much on her own, before she was able to attempt the 
211:229,14['  ]| walk.  When she reached the White*Hart, and made her 
211:229,15['  ]| way to the proper apartment, she found herself neither 
211:229,16['  ]| arriving quite in time, nor the first to arrive.  The party 
211:229,17['  ]| before her were $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, talking to $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, 
211:229,18['  ]| and $PN#J$Captain*Harville to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, and she 
211:229,19['  ]| immediately heard that $PN#P$Mary and $PN#R$Henrietta, too impatient 
211:229,20['  ]| to wait, had gone out the moment it had cleared, 
211:229,21['  ]| but would be back again soon, and that the strictest 
211:229,22['  ]| injunctions had been left with $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, to keep 
211:229,23['  ]| her there till they returned.  She had only to submit, sit 
211:229,24['  ]| down, be outwardly composed, and feel herself plunged 
211:229,25['  ]| at once in all the agitations which she had merely laid 
211:229,26['  ]| her account of tasting a little before the morning closed. 
211:229,27['  ]| There was no delay, no waste of time.  She was deep in 
211:229,28['  ]| the happiness of such misery, or the misery of such 
211:229,29['  ]| happiness, instantly.  Two minutes after her entering the 
211:229,30['  ]| room, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth said, 
211:229,31[B  ]| "We will write the letter we were talking of, $PN#J$Harville, 
211:229,32[B  ]| now, if you will give me materials." 
211:229,33['  ]| Materials were all at hand, on a separate table; he 
211:230,01['  ]| went to it, and nearly turning his back on them all, was 
211:230,02['  ]| engrossed by writing. 
211:230,03['  ]| $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove was giving $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft the history of her 
211:230,04['  ]| eldest daughter's engagement, and just in that inconvenient 
211:230,05['  ]| tone of voice which was perfectly audible while 
211:230,06['  ]| it pretended to be a whisper.  $PN#A$Anne felt that she did not 
211:230,07['  ]| belong to the conversation, and yet, as $PN#J$Captain*Harville 
211:230,08['  ]| seemed thoughtful and not disposed to talk, she could 
211:230,09['  ]| not avoid hearing many undesirable particulars, such as 
211:230,10[N  ]| "how $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove and my brother $PN#ZP$Hayter had met 
211:230,11[N  ]| again and again to talk it over; what my brother $PN#ZP$Hayter 
211:230,12[N  ]| had said one day, and what $PN#W$Mr%*Musgrove had proposed 
211:230,13[N  ]| the next, and what had occurred to my sister $PN#ZQ$Hayter, 
211:230,14[N  ]| and what the young people had wished, and what I said 
211:230,15[N  ]| at first I never could consent to, but was afterwards 
211:230,16[N  ]| persuaded to think might do very well," 
211:230,16['  ]| and a great 
211:230,17['  ]| deal in the same style of open-hearted communication ~~ 
211:230,18['  ]| Minutia*e which, even with every advantage of taste and 
211:230,19['  ]| delicacy which good $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove could not give, could 
211:230,20['  ]| be properly interesting only to the principals.  $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft 
211:230,21['  ]| was attending with great good*humour, and whenever 
211:230,22['  ]| she spoke at all, it was very sensibly.  $PN#A$Anne hoped the 
211:230,23['  ]| gentlemen might each be too much self-occupied to hear. 
211:230,24[N  ]| "And so, ma'am, all these things considered," 
211:230,24['  ]| said 
211:230,25['  ]| $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove in her powerful whisper, 
211:230,25[N  ]| "though we 
211:230,26[N  ]| could have wished it different, yet altogether we did not 
211:230,27[N  ]| think it fair to stand out any longer; for $PN#L$Charles*Hayter 
211:230,28[N  ]| was quite wild about it, and $PN#R$Henrietta was pretty near 
211:230,29[N  ]| as bad; and so we thought they had better marry at 
211:230,30[N  ]| once, and make the best of it, as many others have done 
211:230,31[N  ]| before them.  At any rate, said I, it will be better than 
211:230,32[N  ]| a long engagement." 
211:230,33[E  ]| "That is precisely what I was going to observe," 
211:230,33['  ]| cried 
211:230,34['  ]| $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft. 
211:230,34[E  ]| "I would rather have young people settle 
211:230,35[E  ]| on a small income at once, and have to struggle with 
211:230,36[E  ]| a few difficulties together, than be involved in a long 
211:230,37[E  ]| engagement.  I always think that no mutual" ~~ 
211:230,38[N  ]| "Oh! dear $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft," 
211:230,38['  ]| cried $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, unable to 
211:231,01['  ]| let her finish her speech, 
211:231,01[N  ]| "there is nothing I so abominate 
211:231,02[N  ]| for young people as a long engagement.  It is what 
211:231,03[N  ]| I always protested against for my children.  It is all very 
211:231,04[N  ]| well, I used to say, for young people to be engaged, if 
211:231,05[N  ]| there is a certainty of their being able to marry in six 
211:231,06[N  ]| months, or even in twelve, but a long engagement!" 
211:231,07[E  ]| "Yes, dear ma'am," 
211:231,07['  ]| said $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, 
211:231,07[E  ]| "or an uncertain 
211:231,08[E  ]| engagement; an engagement which may be long.  To 
211:231,09[E  ]| begin without knowing that at such a time there will be 
211:231,10[E  ]| the means of marrying, I hold to be very unsafe and 
211:231,11[E  ]| unwise, and what, I think, all parents should prevent as 
211:231,12[E  ]| far as they can." 
211:231,13['  ]| $PN#A$Anne found an unexpected interest here.  She felt its 
211:231,14['  ]| application to herself, felt it in a nervous thrill all over 
211:231,15['  ]| her, and at the same moment that her eyes instinctively 
211:231,16['  ]| glanced towards the distant table, $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's 
211:231,17['  ]| pen ceased to move, his head was raised, pausing, listening, 
211:231,18['  ]| and he turned round the next instant to give a look ~~ one 
211:231,19['  ]| quick, conscious look at her. 
211:231,20['  ]| The two ladies continued to talk, to re-urge the same 
211:231,21['  ]| admitted truths, and enforce them with such examples 
211:231,22['  ]| of the ill effect of a contrary practice, as had fallen within 
211:231,23['  ]| their observation, but $PN#A$Anne heard nothing distinctly; it 
211:231,24['  ]| was only a buzz of words in her ear, her mind was in 
211:231,25['  ]| confusion. 
211:231,26['  ]| $PN#J$Captain*Harville, who had in truth been hearing none 
211:231,27['  ]| of it, now left his seat, and moved to a window; and 
211:231,28['  ]| $PN#A$Anne seeming to watch him, though it was from thorough 
211:231,29['  ]| absence of mind, became gradually sensible that he was 
211:231,30['  ]| inviting her to join him where he stood.  He looked at 
211:231,31['  ]| her with a smile, and a little motion of the head, which 
211:231,32['  ]| expressed, 
211:231,32@j   | "Come to me, I have something to say;" 
211:231,33['  ]| and the unaffected, easy kindness of manner which 
211:231,34['  ]| denoted the feelings of an older acquaintance than he 
211:231,35['  ]| really was, strongly enforced the invitation.  She roused 
211:231,36['  ]| herself and went to him.  The window at which he stood, 
211:231,37['  ]| was at the other end of the room from where the two 
211:231,38['  ]| ladies were sitting, and though nearer to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's 
211:232,01['  ]| table, not very near.  As she joined him, $PN#J$Captain*Harville's 
211:232,02['  ]| countenance reassumed the serious, thoughtful 
211:232,03['  ]| expression which seemed its natural character. 
211:232,04[J  ]| "Look here," 
211:232,04['  ]| said he, unfolding a parcel in his hand, 
211:232,05['  ]| and displaying a small miniature painting, 
211:232,05[J  ]| "do you know 
211:232,06[J  ]| who that is?" 
211:232,07[A  ]| "Certainly, $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick." 
211:232,08[J  ]| "Yes, and you may guess who it is for.  But 
211:232,08['  ]| (in a deep 
211:232,09['  ]| tone) 
211:232,09[J  ]| it was not done for her.  $PN#A$Miss*Elliot, do you remember 
211:232,10[J  ]| our walking together at Lyme, and grieving for him? 
211:232,11[J  ]| I little thought then ~~ but no matter.  This was drawn 
211:232,12[J  ]| at the Cape.  He met with a clever young German artist 
211:232,13[J  ]| at the Cape, and in compliance with a promise to my 
211:232,14[J  ]| poor sister, sat to him, and was bringing it home for her. 
211:232,15[J  ]| And I have now the charge of getting it properly set for 
211:232,16[J  ]| another!  It was a commission to me!  But who else 
211:232,17[J  ]| was there to employ?  I hope I can allow for him.  I am 
211:232,18[J  ]| not sorry, indeed, to make it over to another.  He undertakes 
211:232,19[J  ]| it ~~ 
211:232,19['  ]| (looking towards $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth) 
211:232,19[J  ]| he is 
211:232,20[J  ]| writing about it now." 
211:232,20['  ]| And with a quivering lip he wound$1#1$ 
211:232,21['  ]| up the whole by adding, 
211:232,21[J  ]| "Poor $PN#ZO$Fanny! she would not 
211:232,22[J  ]| have forgotten him so soon!" 
211:232,23[A  ]| "No," 
211:232,23['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne, in a low feeling voice. 
211:232,23[A  ]| "That, 
211:232,24[A  ]| I can easily believe." 
211:232,25[J  ]| "It was not in her nature.  She doated on him." 
211:232,26[A  ]| "It would not be the nature of any woman who truly 
211:232,27[A  ]| loved." 
211:232,28['  ]| $PN#J$Captain*Harville smiled, as much as to say, 
211:232,28@j   | "Do you 
211:232,29@j   | claim that for your sex?" 
211:232,29['  ]| and she answered the question, 
211:232,30['  ]| smiling also, 
211:232,30[A  ]| "Yes.  We certainly do not forget you, so 
211:232,31[A  ]| soon as you forget us.  It is, perhaps, our fate rather 
211:232,32[A  ]| than our merit.  We cannot help ourselves.  We live at 
211:232,33[A  ]| home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. 
211:232,34[A  ]| You are forced on exertion.  You have always a profession, 
211:232,35[A  ]| pursuits, business of some sort or other, to take you 
211:232,36[A  ]| back into the world immediately, and continual occupation 
211:232,37[A  ]| and change soon weaken impressions." 
211:232,38[J  ]| "Granting your assertion that the world does all this 
211:233,01[J  ]| so soon for men, (which, however, I do not think I shall 
211:233,02[J  ]| grant) it does not apply to $PN#ZD$Benwick.  He has not been 
211:233,03[J  ]| forced upon any exertion.  The peace turned him on 
211:233,04[J  ]| shore at the very moment, and he has been living with 
211:233,05[J  ]| us, in our little family-circle, ever since." 
211:233,06[A  ]| "True," 
211:233,06['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, 
211:233,06[A  ]| "very true; I did not recollect; 
211:233,07[A  ]| but what shall we say now, $PN#J$Captain*Harville?  If the 
211:233,08[A  ]| change be not from outward circumstances, it must be 
211:233,09[A  ]| from within; it must be nature, man's nature, which has 
211:233,10[A  ]| done the business for $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick." 
211:233,11[J  ]| "No, no, it is not man's nature.  I will not allow it 
211:233,12[J  ]| to be more man's nature than woman's to be inconstant 
211:233,13[J  ]| and forget those they do love, or have loved.  I believe 
211:233,14[J  ]| the reverse.  I believe in a true analogy between our 
211:233,15[J  ]| bodily frames and our mental; and that as our bodies 
211:233,16[J  ]| are the strongest, so are our feelings; capable of 
211:233,17[J  ]| bearing most rough usage, and riding out the heaviest 
211:233,18[J  ]| weather." 
211:233,19[A  ]| "Your feelings may be the strongest," 
211:233,19['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne, 
211:233,20[A  ]| "but the same spirit of analogy will authorise me to 
211:233,21[A  ]| assert that ours are the most tender.  Man is more robust 
211:233,22[A  ]| than woman, but he is not longer-lived; which exactly 
211:233,23[A  ]| explains my view of the nature of their attachments. 
211:233,24[A  ]| Nay, it would be too hard upon you, if it were otherwise. 
211:233,25[A  ]| You have difficulties, and privations, and dangers enough 
211:233,26[A  ]| to struggle with.  You are always labouring and toiling, 
211:233,27[A  ]| exposed to every risk and hardship.  Your home, country, 
211:233,28[A  ]| friends, all quitted.  Neither time, nor health, nor life, 
211:233,29[A  ]| to be called your own.  It would be too hard indeed" 
211:233,30['  ]| (with a faltering voice) 
211:233,30[A  ]| "if woman's feelings were to be 
211:233,31[A  ]| added to all this." 
211:233,32[J  ]| "We shall never agree upon this question" ~~ 
211:233,32['  ]| $PN#J$Captain*Harville 
211:233,33['  ]| was beginning to say, when a slight noise called 
211:233,34['  ]| their attention to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's hitherto perfectly 
211:233,35['  ]| quiet division of the room.  It was nothing more than 
211:233,36['  ]| that his pen had fallen down, but $PN#A$Anne was startled at 
211:233,37['  ]| finding him nearer than she had supposed, and half 
211:233,38['  ]| inclined to suspect that the pen had only fallen, because 
211:234,01['  ]| he had been occupied by them, striving to catch sounds, 
211:234,02['  ]| which yet she did not think he could have caught. 
211:234,03[J  ]| "Have you finished your letter?" 
211:234,03['  ]| said $PN#J$Captain*Harville. 
211:234,04['  ]| 
211:234,05[B  ]| "Not quite, a few lines more.  I shall have done in 
211:234,06[B  ]| five minutes." 
211:234,07[J  ]| "There is no hurry on my side.  I am only ready 
211:234,08[J  ]| whenever you are. ~~ I am in very good anchorage here," 
211:234,09['  ]| (smiling at $PN#A$Anne) 
211:234,09[J  ]| "well supplied, and want for nothing. ~~ 
211:234,10[J  ]| No hurry for a signal at all. ~~ Well, $PN#A$Miss*Elliot," 
211:234,10['  ]| (lowering 
211:234,11['  ]| his voice) 
211:234,11[J  ]| "as I was saying, we shall never agree I suppose 
211:234,12[J  ]| upon this point.  No man and woman would, probably. 
211:234,13[J  ]| But let me observe that all histories are against you, all 
211:234,14[J  ]| stories, prose and verse.  If I had such a memory as 
211:234,15[J  ]| $PN#ZD$Benwick, I could bring you fifty quotations in a moment 
211:234,16[J  ]| on my side the argument, and I do not think I ever 
211:234,17[J  ]| opened a book in my life which had not something to 
211:234,18[J  ]| say upon woman's inconstancy.  Songs and proverbs, all 
211:234,19[J  ]| talk of woman's fickleness.  But perhaps you will say, 
211:234,20[J  ]| these were all written by men." 
211:234,21[A  ]| "Perhaps I shall. ~~ Yes, yes, if you please, no reference 
211:234,22[A  ]| to examples in books.  Men have had every advantage 
211:234,23[A  ]| of us in telling their own story.  Education has been 
211:234,24[A  ]| theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been 
211:234,25[A  ]| in their hands.  I will not allow books to prove any*thing." 
211:234,26[A  ]| 
211:234,27[J  ]| "But how shall we prove any*thing?" 
211:234,28[A  ]| "We never shall.  We never can expect to prove any*thing 
211:234,29[A  ]| upon such a point.  It is a difference of opinion 
211:234,30[A  ]| which does not admit of proof.  We each begin probably 
211:234,31[A  ]| with a little bias towards our own sex, and upon that 
211:234,32[A  ]| bias build every circumstance in favour of it which has 
211:234,33[A  ]| occurred within our own circle; many of which circumstances 
211:234,34[A  ]| (perhaps those very cases which strike us the 
211:234,35[A  ]| most) may be precisely such as cannot be brought forward 
211:234,36[A  ]| without betraying a confidence, or in some respect saying 
211:234,37[A  ]| what should not be said." 
211:234,38[J  ]| "Ah!" 
211:234,38['  ]| cried $PN#J$Captain*Harville, in a tone of strong 
211:235,01['  ]| feeling, 
211:235,01[J  ]| "if I could but make you comprehend what 
211:235,02[J  ]| a man suffers when he takes a last look at his wife and 
211:235,03[J  ]| children, and watches the boat that he has sent them off 
211:235,04[J  ]| in, as long as it is in sight, and then turns away and 
211:235,05[J  ]| says, "God knows whether we ever meet again!"  And 
211:235,06[J  ]| then, if I could convey to you the glow of his soul when 
211:235,07[J  ]| he does see them again; when, coming back after a 
211:235,08[J  ]| twelvemonth's absence perhaps, and obliged to put into 
211:235,09[J  ]| another port, he calculates how soon it be possible to get 
211:235,10[J  ]| them there, pretending to deceive himself, and saying, 
211:235,11[J  ]| ""They cannot be here till such a day,"" but all the while 
211:235,12[J  ]| hoping for them twelve hours sooner, and seeing them 
211:235,13[J  ]| arrive at last, as if Heaven had given them wings, by 
211:235,14[J  ]| many hours sooner still!  If I could explain to you all 
211:235,15[J  ]| this, and all that a man can bear and do, and glories 
211:235,16[J  ]| to do for the sake of these treasures of his existence! 
211:235,17[J  ]| I speak, you know, only of such men as have hearts!" 
211:235,18['  ]| pressing his own with emotion. 
211:235,19[A  ]| "Oh!" 
211:235,19['  ]| cried $PN#A$Anne eagerly, 
211:235,19[A  ]| "I hope I do justice to 
211:235,20[A  ]| all that is felt by you, and by those who resemble you. 
211:235,21[A  ]| God forbid that I should undervalue the warm and faithful 
211:235,22[A  ]| feelings of any of my fellow-creatures.  I should deserve 
211:235,23[A  ]| utter contempt if I dared to suppose that true attachment 
211:235,24[A  ]| and constancy were known only by woman.  No, I believe 
211:235,25[A  ]| you capable of every*thing great and good in your married 
211:235,26[A  ]| lives.  I believe you equal to every important exertion, 
211:235,27[A  ]| and to every domestic forbearance, so long as ~~ if I may 
211:235,28[A  ]| be allowed the expression, so long as you have an object. 
211:235,29[A  ]| I mean, while the woman you love lives, and lives for 
211:235,30[A  ]| you.  All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is 
211:235,31[A  ]| not a very enviable one, you need not covet it) is that 
211:235,32[A  ]| of loving longest, when existence or when hope is 
211:235,33[A  ]| gone." 
211:235,34['  ]| She could not immediately have uttered another sentence; 
211:235,35['  ]| her heart was too full, her breath too much 
211:235,36['  ]| oppressed. 
211:235,37[J  ]| "You are a good soul," 
211:235,37['  ]| cried $PN#J$Captain*Harville, putting 
211:235,38['  ]| his hand on her arm quite affectionately. 
211:235,38[J  ]| "There is no 
211:236,01[J  ]| quarrelling with you. ~~ And when I think of $PN#ZD$Benwick, my 
211:236,02[J  ]| tongue is tied." 
211:236,03['  ]| Their attention was called towards the others. ~~ 
211:236,04['  ]| $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft was taking leave. 
211:236,05[E  ]| "Here, $PN#B$Frederick, you and I part company, I believe," 
211:236,06['  ]| said she. 
211:236,06[E  ]| "I am going home, and you have an engagement 
211:236,07[E  ]| with your friend. ~~ To-night we may have the 
211:236,08[E  ]| pleasure of all meeting again, at your party," 
211:236,08['  ]| (turning 
211:236,09['  ]| to $PN#A$Anne.) 
211:236,09[E  ]| "We had your sister's card yesterday, and 
211:236,10[E  ]| I understood $PN#B$Frederick had a card too, though I did not 
211:236,11[E  ]| see it ~~ and you are disengaged, $PN#B$Frederick, are you not, as 
211:236,12[E  ]| well as ourselves?" 
211:236,13['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth was folding up a letter in great 
211:236,14['  ]| haste, and either could not or would not answer fully. 
211:236,15[B  ]| "Yes," 
211:236,15['  ]| said he, 
211:236,15[B  ]| "very true; here we separate, but 
211:236,16[B  ]| $PN#J$Harville and I shall soon be after you, that is, $PN#J$Harville, 
211:236,17[B  ]| if you are ready, I am in half a minute.  I know you will 
211:236,18[B  ]| not be sorry to be off.  I shall be at your service in half 
211:236,19[B  ]| a minute." 
211:236,20['  ]| $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft left them, and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, having 
211:236,21['  ]| sealed his letter with great rapidity, was indeed ready, 
211:236,22['  ]| and had even a hurried, agitated air, which shewed 
211:236,23['  ]| impatience to be gone.  $PN#A$Anne knew not how to understand 
211:236,24['  ]| it. 
211:236,24@a   | She had the kindest 
211:236,24[J  ]| "Good morning, God bless 
211:236,25[J  ]| you," 
211:236,25@a   | from $PN#J$Captain*Harville, but from him not a word, 
211:236,26@a   | nor a look.  He had passed out of the room without 
211:236,27@a   | a look! 
211:236,28['  ]| She had only time, however, to move closer to the 
211:236,29['  ]| table where he had been writing, when footsteps were 
211:236,30['  ]| heard returning; the door opened; it was himself.  He 
211:236,31['  ]| begged their pardon, but he had forgotten his gloves, and 
211:236,32['  ]| instantly crossing the room to the writing*table, and 
211:236,33['  ]| standing with his back towards $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, he drew 
211:236,34['  ]| out a letter from under the scattered paper, placed it 
211:236,35['  ]| before $PN#A$Anne with eyes of glowing entreaty fixed on her 
211:236,36['  ]| for a moment, and hastily collecting his gloves, was again 
211:236,37['  ]| out of the room, almost before $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove was aware 
211:236,38['  ]| of his being in it ~~ the work of an instant! 
211:237,01['  ]| The revolution which one instant had made in $PN#A$Anne, 
211:237,02['  ]| was almost beyond expression. 
211:237,02@a   | The letter, with a direction 
211:237,03@a   | hardly legible, to 
211:237,03[B  ]| "$PN#A$Miss*A%*E%***%" 
211:237,03@a   | was evidently the 
211:237,04@a   | one which he had been folding so hastily.  While supposed 
211:237,05@a   | to be writing only to $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick, he had 
211:237,06@a   | been also addressing her!  On the contents of that letter 
211:237,07@a   | depended all which this world could do for her!  Any*thing 
211:237,08@a   | was possible, any*thing might be defied rather than 
211:237,09@a   | suspense.  $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove had little arrangements of her 
211:237,10@a   | own at her own table; to their protection she must trust, 
211:237,11['  ]| and sinking into the chair which he had occupied, succeeding 
211:237,12['  ]| to the very spot where he had leaned and written, 
211:237,13['  ]| her eyes devoured the following words: 
211:237,14[B  ]| "I can listen no longer in silence.  I must speak to 
211:237,15[B  ]| "you by such means as are within my reach.  You pierce 
211:237,16[B  ]| "my soul.  I am half agony, half hope.  Tell me not 
211:237,17[B  ]| "that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone 
211:237,18[B  ]| "for*ever.  I offer myself to you again with a heart even 
211:237,19[B  ]| "more your own, than when you almost broke it eight 
211:237,20[B  ]| "years and a half ago.  Dare not say that man forgets 
211:237,21[B  ]| "sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. 
211:237,22[B  ]| "I have loved none but you.  Unjust I may have been, 
211:237,23[B  ]| "weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. 
211:237,24[B  ]| "You alone have brought me to Bath.  For you alone 
211:237,25[B  ]| "I think and plan. ~~ Have you not seen this?  Can you 
211:237,26[B  ]| "fail to have understood my wishes? ~~ I had not waited 
211:237,27[B  ]| "even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, 
211:237,28[B  ]| "as I think you must have penetrated mine.  I can 
211:237,29[B  ]| "hardly write.  I am every instant hearing something 
211:237,30[B  ]| "which overpowers me.  You sink your voice, but I can 
211:237,31[B  ]| "distinguish the tones of that voice, when they would 
211:237,32[B  ]| "be lost on others. ~~ too good, too excellent creature! 
211:237,33[B  ]| "You do us justice indeed.  You do believe that there 
211:237,34[B  ]| "is true attachment and constancy among men.  Believe 
211:237,35[B  ]| "it to be most fervent, most undeviating in 
211:237,36[B  ]| "$PN#B$F%*W%" 
211:237,37[B  ]| "I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return 
211:237,38[B  ]| "hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. 
211:238,01[B  ]| "A word, a look will be enough to decide whether I enter 
211:238,02[B  ]| "your father's house this evening, or never." 
211:238,03['  ]| Such a letter was not to be soon recovered from.  Half 
211:238,04['  ]| an hour's solitude and reflection might have tranquillized 
211:238,05['  ]| her; but the ten minutes only, which now passed before 
211:238,06['  ]| she was interrupted, with all the restraints of her situation, 
211:238,07['  ]| could do nothing towards tranquillity. 
211:238,07@a   | Every moment 
211:238,08@a   | rather brought fresh agitation.  It was an overpowering 
211:238,09@a   | happiness. 
211:238,09['  ]| And before she was beyond the first stage of 
211:238,10['  ]| full sensation, $PN#O$Charles, $PN#P$Mary, and $PN#R$Henrietta all came in. 
211:238,11['  ]| The absolute necessity of seeming like herself produced 
211:238,12['  ]| then an immediate struggle; but after a while she could 
211:238,13['  ]| do no more.  She began not to understand a word they 
211:238,14['  ]| said, and was obliged to plead indisposition and excuse 
211:238,15['  ]| herself.  They could then see that she looked very ill ~~ 
211:238,16['  ]| were shocked and concerned ~~ and would not stir without 
211:238,17['  ]| her for the world. 
211:238,17@a   | This was dreadful!  Would they only 
211:238,18@a   | have gone away, and left her in the quiet possession of 
211:238,19@a   | that room, it would have been her cure; but to have 
211:238,20@a   | them all standing or waiting around her was distracting, 
211:238,21['  ]| and, in desperation, she said she would go home. 
211:238,22[N  ]| "By all means, my dear," 
211:238,22['  ]| cried $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, 
211:238,22[N  ]| "go 
211:238,23[N  ]| home directly and take care of yourself, that you may 
211:238,24[N  ]| be fit for the evening.  I wish $PN#ZZD$Sarah was here to doctor 
211:238,25[N  ]| you, but I am no doctor myself.  $PN#O$Charles, ring and order 
211:238,26[N  ]| a chair.  She must not walk." 
211:238,27@a   | But the chair would never do.  Worse than all!  To 
211:238,28@a   | lose the possibility of speaking two words to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth 
211:238,29@a   | in the course of her quiet, solitary progress 
211:238,30@a   | up the town 
211:238,30['  ]| (and she felt almost certain of meeting him) 
211:238,31@a   | could not be borne. 
211:238,31['  ]| The chair was earnestly protested 
211:238,32['  ]| against; and $PN#N$Mrs%*Musgrove, who thought only of one 
211:238,33['  ]| sort of illness, having assured herself, with some anxiety, 
211:238,34['  ]| that there had been no fall in the case; that $PN#A$Anne had 
211:238,35['  ]| not, at any time lately, slipped down, and got a blow on 
211:238,36['  ]| her head; that she was perfectly convinced of having 
211:238,37['  ]| had no fall, could part with her cheerfully, and depend 
211:238,38['  ]| on finding her better at night. 
211:239,01['  ]| Anxious to omit no possible precaution, $PN#A$Anne struggled, 
211:239,02['  ]| and said, 
211:239,03[A  ]| "I am afraid, ma'am, that it is not perfectly understood. 
211:239,04[A  ]| Pray be so good as to mention to the other 
211:239,05[A  ]| gentlemen that we hope to see your whole party this 
211:239,06[A  ]| evening.  I am afraid there has been some mistake; and 
211:239,07[A  ]| I wish you particularly to assure $PN#J$Captain*Harville, and 
211:239,08[A  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, that we hope to see them both." 
211:239,09[N  ]| "Oh! my dear, it is quite understood, I give you my 
211:239,10[N  ]| word.  $PN#J$Captain*Harville has no thought but of going." 
211:239,11[A  ]| "Do you think so?  But I am afraid; and I should 
211:239,12[A  ]| be so very sorry!  Will you promise me to mention it, 
211:239,13[A  ]| when you see them again?  You will see them both 
211:239,14[A  ]| again this morning, I dare say.  Do promise me." 
211:239,15[N  ]| "To be sure I will, if you wish it.  $PN#O$Charles, if you see 
211:239,16[N  ]| $PN#J$Captain*Harville any*where, remember to give $PN#A$Miss*Anne's 
211:239,17[N  ]| message.  But indeed, my dear, you need not be 
211:239,18[N  ]| uneasy.  $PN#J$Captain*Harville holds himself quite engaged, 
211:239,19[N  ]| I'll answer for it; and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth the same, 
211:239,20[N  ]| I dare say." 
211:239,21['  ]| $PN#A$Anne could do no more; but her heart prophesied 
211:239,22['  ]| some mischance, to damp the perfection of her felicity. 
211:239,23@a   | It could not be very lasting, however.  Even if he did 
211:239,24@a   | not come to Camden-place himself, it would be in her 
211:239,25@a   | power to send an intelligible sentence by $PN#J$Captain*Harville. 
211:239,26['  ]| Another momentary vexation occurred. 
211:239,26@a   | $PN#O$Charles, in his 
211:239,27@a   | real concern and good-nature, would go home with her; 
211:239,28@a   | there was no preventing him.  This was almost cruel! 
211:239,29['  ]| But she could not be long ungrateful; 
211:239,29@a   | he was sacrificing 
211:239,30@a   | an engagement at a gunsmith's to be of use to her; 
211:239,31['  ]| and she set off with him, with no feeling but gratitude 
211:239,32['  ]| apparent. 
211:239,33['  ]| They were in Union-street, when a quicker step behind, 
211:239,34['  ]| a something of familiar sound, gave her two moments 
211:239,35['  ]| preparation for the sight of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth.  He 
211:239,36['  ]| joined them; but, as if irresolute whether to join or to 
211:239,37['  ]| pass on, said nothing ~~ only looked.  $PN#A$Anne could command 
211:239,38['  ]| herself enough to receive that look, and not repulsively. 
211:240,01['  ]| The cheeks which had been pale now glowed, 
211:240,02['  ]| and the movements which had hesitated were decided. 
211:240,03['  ]| He walked by her side.  Presently, struck by a sudden 
211:240,04['  ]| thought, $PN#O$Charles said, 
211:240,05[O  ]| "$PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, which way are you going?  only 
211:240,06[O  ]| to Gay-street, or farther up the town?" 
211:240,07[B  ]| "I hardly know," 
211:240,07['  ]| replied $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, surprised. 
211:240,08['  ]| 
211:240,09[O  ]| "Are you going as high as Belmont?  Are you going 
211:240,10[O  ]| near Camden-place?  Because if you are, I shall have no 
211:240,11[O  ]| scruple in asking you to take my place, and give $PN#A$Anne 
211:240,12[O  ]| your arm to her father's door.  She is rather done for 
211:240,13[O  ]| this morning, and must not go so far without help.  And 
211:240,14[O  ]| I ought to be at that fellow's in the market-place.  He 
211:240,15[O  ]| promised me the sight of a capital gun he is just going 
211:240,16[O  ]| to send off; said he would keep it unpacked to the last 
211:240,17[O  ]| possible moment, that I might see it; and if I do not 
211:240,18[O  ]| turn back now, I have no chance.  By his description, 
211:240,19[O  ]| a good deal like the second-sized double-barrel of mine, 
211:240,20[O  ]| which you shot with one day, round Winthrop." 
211:240,21['  ]| There could not be an objection.  There could be only 
211:240,22['  ]| a most proper alacrity, a most obliging compliance for 
211:240,23['  ]| public view; and smiles reined in and spirits dancing in 
211:240,24['  ]| private rapture.  In half a minute, $PN#O$Charles was at the 
211:240,25['  ]| bottom of Union-street again, and the other two proceeding 
211:240,26['  ]| together; and soon words enough had passed 
211:240,27['  ]| between them to decide their direction towards the comparatively 
211:240,28['  ]| quiet and retired gravel-walk, where the power 
211:240,29['  ]| of conversation would make the present hour a blessing 
211:240,30['  ]| indeed; and prepare for it all the immortality which the 
211:240,31['  ]| happiest recollections of their own future lives could 
211:240,32['  ]| bestow.  There they exchanged again those feelings and 
211:240,33['  ]| those promises which had once before seemed to secure 
211:240,34['  ]| every*thing, but which had been followed by so many, 
211:240,35['  ]| many years of division and estrangement.  There they 
211:240,36['  ]| returned again into the past, more exquisitely happy, 
211:240,37['  ]| perhaps, in their re-union, than when it had been first 
211:240,38['  ]| projected; more tender, more tried, more fixed in a knowledge 
211:241,01['  ]| of each other's character, truth, and attachment; 
211:241,02['  ]| more equal to act, more justified in acting.  And there, 
211:241,03['  ]| as they slowly paced the gradual ascent, heedless of every 
211:241,04['  ]| group around them, seeing neither sauntering politicians, 
211:241,05['  ]| bustling house-keepers, flirting girls, nor nursery-maids 
211:241,06['  ]| and children, they could indulge in those retrospections 
211:241,07['  ]| and acknowledgments, and especially in those explanations 
211:241,08['  ]| of what had directly preceded the present moment, 
211:241,09['  ]| which were so poignant and so ceaseless in interest.  All 
211:241,10['  ]| the little variations of the last week were gone through; 
211:241,11['  ]| and of yesterday and to-day there could scarcely be 
211:241,12['  ]| an end. 
211:241,13['  ]| She had not mistaken him. 
211:241,13@b   | Jealousy of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot had 
211:241,14@b   | been the retarding weight, the doubt, the torment.  That 
211:241,15@b   | had begun to operate in the very hour of first meeting 
211:241,16@b   | her in Bath; that had returned, after a short suspension, 
211:241,17@b   | to ruin the concert; and that had influenced him in 
211:241,18@b   | every*thing he had said and done, or omitted to say and 
211:241,19@b   | do, in the last four-and-twenty hours. 
211:241,19['  ]| It had been 
211:241,20['  ]| gradually yielding to the better hopes which her looks, 
211:241,21['  ]| or words, or actions occasionally encouraged; it had been 
211:241,22['  ]| vanquished at last by those sentiments and those tones 
211:241,23['  ]| which had reached him while she talked with $PN#J$Captain*Harville; 
211:241,24['  ]| and under the irresistible governance of which 
211:241,25['  ]| he had seized a sheet of paper, and poured out his feelings. 
211:241,26['  ]| Of what he had then written, nothing was to be 
211:241,27['  ]| retracted or qualified. 
211:241,27@b   | He persisted in having loved none 
211:241,28@b   | but her.  She had never been supplanted.  He never even 
211:241,29@b   | believed himself to see her equal.  Thus much indeed he 
211:241,30@b   | was obliged to acknowledge ~~ that he had been constant 
211:241,31@b   | unconsciously, nay unintentionally; that he had meant 
211:241,32@b   | to forget her, and believed it to be done.  He had imagined 
211:241,33@b   | himself indifferent, when he had only been angry; and 
211:241,34@b   | he had been unjust to her merits, because he had been 
211:241,35@b   | a sufferer from them. 
211:241,35['  ]| Her character was now fixed on 
211:241,36['  ]| his mind as perfection itself, maintaining the loveliest 
211:241,37['  ]| medium of fortitude and gentleness; but he was obliged 
211:241,38['  ]| to acknowledge that only at Uppercross had he learnt to 
211:242,01['  ]| do her justice, and only at Lyme had he begun to understand 
211:242,02['  ]| himself. 
211:242,03['  ]| At Lyme, he had received lessons of more than one 
211:242,04['  ]| sort.  The passing admiration of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot had at least 
211:242,05['  ]| roused him, and the scenes on the Cobb, and at $PN#J$Captain*Harville's, 
211:242,06['  ]| had fixed her superiority. 
211:242,07['  ]| In his preceding attempts to attach himself to $PN#M$Louisa*Musgrove 
211:242,08['  ]| (the attempts of angry pride), he protested that 
211:242,09@b   | he had for*ever felt it to be impossible; that he had not 
211:242,10@b   | cared, could not care for $PN#M$Louisa; though, till that day, 
211:242,11@b   | till the leisure for reflection which followed it, he had not 
211:242,12@b   | understood the perfect excellence of the mind with which 
211:242,13@b   | $PN#M$Louisa's could so ill bear a comparison; or the perfect, 
211:242,14@b   | unrivalled hold it possessed over his own. 
211:242,14['  ]| There, he had 
211:242,15['  ]| learnt to distinguish between the steadiness of principle 
211:242,16['  ]| and the obstinacy of self-will, between the darings of 
211:242,17['  ]| heedlessness and the resolution of a collected mind. 
211:242,18['  ]| There, he had seen every*thing to exalt in his estimation 
211:242,19['  ]| the woman he had lost, and there begun to deplore the 
211:242,20['  ]| pride, the folly, the madness of resentment, which had 
211:242,21['  ]| kept him from trying to regain her when thrown in 
211:242,22['  ]| his way. 
211:242,23['  ]| From that period his penance had become severe.  He 
211:242,24['  ]| had no sooner been free from the horror and remorse 
211:242,25['  ]| attending the first few days of $PN#M$Louisa's accident, no 
211:242,26['  ]| sooner begun to feel himself alive again, than he had 
211:242,27['  ]| begun to feel himself, though alive, not at liberty. 
211:242,28[B  ]| "I found," 
211:242,28['  ]| said he, 
211:242,28[B  ]| "that I was considered by $PN#J$Harville 
211:242,29[B  ]| an engaged man!  That neither $PN#J$Harville nor his wife 
211:242,30[B  ]| entertained a doubt of our mutual attachment. I was 
211:242,31[B  ]| startled and shocked.  To a degree, I could contradict 
211:242,32[B  ]| this instantly; but, when I began to reflect that others 
211:242,33[B  ]| might have felt the same ~~ her own family, nay, perhaps 
211:242,34[B  ]| herself, I was no longer at my own disposal.  I was hers 
211:242,35[B  ]| in honour if she wished it.  I had been unguarded.  I had 
211:242,36[B  ]| not thought seriously on this subject before.  I had not 
211:242,37[B  ]| considered that my excessive intimacy must have its 
211:242,38[B  ]| danger of ill consequence in many ways; and that I had 
211:243,01[B  ]| no right to be trying whether I could attach myself to 
211:243,02[B  ]| either of the girls, at the risk of raising even an unpleasant 
211:243,03[B  ]| report, were there no other ill effects.  I had been grossly 
211:243,04[B  ]| wrong, and must abide the consequences." 
211:243,05['  ]| He found too late, in short, that he had entangled 
211:243,06['  ]| himself; and that precisely as he became fully satisfied 
211:243,07['  ]| of his not caring for $PN#M$Louisa at all, he must regard himself 
211:243,08['  ]| as bound to her, if her sentiments for him were what the 
211:243,09['  ]| $PN#J1$Harvilles supposed.  It determined him to leave Lyme, 
211:243,10['  ]| and await her complete recovery elsewhere.  He would 
211:243,11['  ]| gladly weaken, by any fair means, whatever feelings or 
211:243,12['  ]| speculations concerning him might exist; and he went, 
211:243,13['  ]| therefore, to his brother's, meaning after a while to return 
211:243,14['  ]| to Kellynch, and act as circumstances might require. 
211:243,15[B  ]| "I was six weeks with $PN#ZZO$Edward," 
211:243,15['  ]| said he, 
211:243,15[B  ]| "and saw 
211:243,16[B  ]| him happy.  I could have no other pleasure.  I deserved 
211:243,17[B  ]| none.  He enquired after you very particularly; asked 
211:243,18[B  ]| even if you were personally altered, little suspecting that 
211:243,19[B  ]| to my eye you could never alter." 
211:243,20['  ]| $PN#A$Anne smiled, and let it pass.  It was too pleasing 
211:243,21['  ]| a blunder for a reproach.  It is something for a woman 
211:243,22['  ]| to be assured, in her eight-and-twentieth year, that she 
211:243,23['  ]| has not lost one charm of earlier youth:  but the value 
211:243,24['  ]| of such homage was inexpressibly increased to $PN#A$Anne, by 
211:243,25['  ]| comparing it with former words, and feeling it to be the 
211:243,26['  ]| result, not the cause of a revival of his warm attachment. 
211:243,27['  ]| He had remained in Shropshire, lamenting the blindness 
211:243,28['  ]| of his own pride, and the blunders of his own calculations, 
211:243,29['  ]| till at once released from $PN#M$Louisa by the astonishing and 
211:243,30['  ]| felicitous intelligence of her engagement with $PN#ZD$Benwick. 
211:243,31[B  ]| "Here," 
211:243,31['  ]| said he, 
211:243,31[B  ]| "ended the worst of my state; for 
211:243,32[B  ]| now I could at least put myself in the way of happiness, 
211:243,33[B  ]| I could exert myself, I could do something.  But to be 
211:243,34[B  ]| waiting so long in inaction, and waiting only for evil, had 
211:243,35[B  ]| been dreadful.  Within the first five minutes I said, 
211:243,36[B  ]| ""I will be at Bath on Wednesday,"" and I was.  Was it 
211:243,37[B  ]| unpardonable to think it worth my while to come? and 
211:243,38[B  ]| to arrive with some degree of hope?  You were single. 
211:244,01[B  ]| It was possible that you might retain the feelings of the 
211:244,02[B  ]| past, as I did; and one encouragement happened to be 
211:244,03[B  ]| mine.  I could never doubt that you would be loved and 
211:244,04[B  ]| sought by others, but I knew to a certainty that you had 
211:244,05[B  ]| refused one man at least, of better pretensions than 
211:244,06[B  ]| myself:  and I could not help often saying, Was this 
211:244,07[B  ]| for me?" 
211:244,08['  ]| Their first meeting in Milsom-street afforded much to 
211:244,09['  ]| be said, but the concert still more.  That evening seemed 
211:244,10['  ]| to be made up of exquisite moments.  The moment of 
211:244,11['  ]| her stepping forward in the octagon-room to speak to 
211:244,12['  ]| him, the moment of $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's appearing and tearing 
211:244,13['  ]| her away, and one or two subsequent moments, marked 
211:244,14['  ]| by returning hope or increasing despondence, were dwelt 
211:244,15['  ]| on with energy. 
211:244,16[B  ]| "To see you," 
211:244,16['  ]| cried he, 
211:244,16[B  ]| "in the midst of those who 
211:244,17[B  ]| could not be my well-wishers, to see your cousin close by 
211:244,18[B  ]| you, conversing and smiling, and feel all the horrible 
211:244,19[B  ]| eligibilities and proprieties of the match!  To consider it 
211:244,20[B  ]| as the certain wish of every being who could hope to 
211:244,21[B  ]| influence you!  Even, if your own feelings were reluctant 
211:244,22[B  ]| or indifferent, to consider what powerful supports would 
211:244,23[B  ]| be his!  Was it not enough to make the fool of me which 
211:244,24[B  ]| I appeared?  How could I look on without agony?  Was 
211:244,25[B  ]| not the very sight of the friend who sat behind you, was 
211:244,26[B  ]| not the recollection of what had been, the knowledge of 
211:244,27[B  ]| her influence, the indelible, immoveable impression of 
211:244,28[B  ]| what persuasion had once done ~~ was it not all against 
211:244,29[B  ]| me?" 
211:244,30[A  ]| "You should have distinguished," 
211:244,30['  ]| replied $PN#A$Anne. 
211:244,30[A  ]| "You 
211:244,31[A  ]| should not have suspected me now; the case so different, 
211:244,32[A  ]| and my age so different.  If I was wrong in yielding to 
211:244,33[A  ]| persuasion once, remember that it was to persuasion 
211:244,34[A  ]| exerted on the side of safety, not of risk.  When I yielded, 
211:244,35[A  ]| I thought it was to duty; but no duty could be called 
211:244,36[A  ]| in aid here.  In marrying a man indifferent to me, all 
211:244,37[A  ]| risk would have been incurred, and all duty violated." 
211:244,38[B  ]| "Perhaps I ought to have reasoned thus," 
211:244,38[B  ]| he replied. 
211:245,01[B  ]| "but I could not.  I could not derive benefit from the 
211:245,02[B  ]| late knowledge I had acquired of your character.  I could 
211:245,03[B  ]| not bring it into play:  it was overwhelmed, buried, lost 
211:245,04[B  ]| in those earlier feelings which I had been smarting under 
211:245,05[B  ]| year after year.  I could think of you only as one who had 
211:245,06[B  ]| yielded, who had given me up, who had been influenced 
211:245,07[B  ]| by any*one rather than by me.  I saw you with the very 
211:245,08[B  ]| person who had guided you in that year of misery.  I had 
211:245,09[B  ]| no reason to believe her of less authority now. ~~ The force 
211:245,10[B  ]| of habit was to be added." 
211:245,11[A  ]| "I should have thought," 
211:245,11['  ]| said $PN#A$Anne, 
211:245,11[A  ]| "that my manner 
211:245,12[A  ]| to yourself might have spared you much or all of this." 
211:245,13[B  ]| "No, no!  your manner might be only the ease which 
211:245,14[B  ]| your engagement to another man would give.  I left you 
211:245,15[B  ]| in this belief; and yet ~~ I was determined to see you 
211:245,16[B  ]| again.  My spirits rallied with the morning, and I felt 
211:245,17[B  ]| that I had still a motive for remaining here." 
211:245,18['  ]| At last $PN#A$Anne was at home again, and happier than any*one 
211:245,19['  ]| in that house could have conceived.  All the surprise 
211:245,20['  ]| and suspense, and every other painful part of the morning 
211:245,21['  ]| dissipated by this conversation, she re-entered the house 
211:245,22['  ]| so happy as to be obliged to find an alloy in some 
211:245,23['  ]| momentary apprehensions of its being impossible to last. 
211:245,24['  ]| An interval of meditation, serious and grateful, was the 
211:245,25['  ]| best corrective of every*thing dangerous in such high-wrought 
211:245,26['  ]| felicity; and she went to her room, and grew 
211:245,27['  ]| steadfast and fearless in the thankfulness of her enjoyment. 
211:245,28['  ]| 
211:245,29['  ]| The evening came, the drawing-rooms were lighted up, 
211:245,30['  ]| the company assembled.  It was but a card-party, it was 
211:245,31['  ]| but a mixture of those who had never met before, and 
211:245,32['  ]| those who met too often ~~ a common-place business, too 
211:245,33['  ]| numerous for intimacy, too small for variety; but $PN#A$Anne 
211:245,34['  ]| had never found an evening shorter.  Glowing and lovely 
211:245,35['  ]| in sensibility and happiness, and more generally admired 
211:245,36['  ]| than she thought about or cared for, she had cheerful 
211:245,37['  ]| or forbearing feelings for every creature around her. 
211:245,38['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot was there; she avoided, but she could pity 
211:246,01['  ]| him.  The $PN#ZZM$Wallises; she had amusement in understanding 
211:246,02['  ]| them.  $PN#V$Lady*Dalrymple and $PN#ZH$Miss*Carteret; they would 
211:246,03['  ]| soon be innoxious cousins to her.  She cared not for 
211:246,04['  ]| $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay, and had nothing to blush for in the public 
211:246,05['  ]| manners of her father and sister.  With the $PN#W1$Musgroves, 
211:246,06['  ]| there was the happy chat of perfect ease; with $PN#J$Captain*Harville, 
211:246,07['  ]| the kind-hearted intercourse of brother and 
211:246,08['  ]| sister; with $PN#K$Lady*Russell, attempts at conversation, 
211:246,09['  ]| which a delicious consciousness cut short; with $PN#D$Admiral 
211:246,10['  ]| and $PN#E$Mrs%*Croft, every*thing of peculiar cordiality and 
211:246,11['  ]| fervent interest, which the same consciousness sought to 
211:246,12['  ]| conceal; ~~ and with $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, some moments 
211:246,13['  ]| of communication continually occurring, and always the 
211:246,14['  ]| hope of more, and always the knowledge of his being there! 
211:246,15['  ]| It was in one of these short meetings, each apparently 
211:246,16['  ]| occupied in admiring a fine display of green-house plants, 
211:246,17['  ]| that she said ~~ 
211:246,18[A  ]| "I have been thinking over the past, and trying 
211:246,19[A  ]| impartially to judge of the right and wrong, I mean with 
211:246,20[A  ]| regard to myself; and I must believe that I was right, 
211:246,21[A  ]| much as I suffered from it, that I was perfectly right in 
211:246,22[A  ]| being guided by the friend whom you will love better 
211:246,23[A  ]| than you do now.  To me, she was in place of a parent. 
211:246,24[A  ]| Do not mistake me, however.  I am not saying that she 
211:246,25[A  ]| did not err in her advice.  It was, perhaps, one of those 
211:246,26[A  ]| cases in which advice is good or bad only as the event 
211:246,27[A  ]| decides; and for myself, I certainly never should, in any 
211:246,28[A  ]| circumstance of tolerable similarity, give such advice. 
211:246,29[A  ]| But I mean, that I was right in submitting to her, and 
211:246,30[A  ]| that if I had done otherwise, I should have suffered more 
211:246,31[A  ]| in continuing the engagement than I did even in giving 
211:246,32[A  ]| it up, because I should have suffered in my conscience. 
211:246,33[A  ]| I have now, as far as such a sentiment is allowable in 
211:246,34[A  ]| human nature, nothing to reproach myself with; and if 
211:246,35[A  ]| I mistake not, a strong sense of duty is no bad part 
211:246,36[A  ]| of a woman's portion." 
211:246,37['  ]| He looked at her, looked at $PN#K$Lady*Russell, and looking 
211:246,38['  ]| again at her, replied, as if in cool deliberation, 
211:247,01[B  ]| "Not yet.  But there are hopes of her being forgiven 
211:247,02[B  ]| in time.  I trust to being in charity with her soon.  But 
211:247,03[B  ]| I too have been thinking over the past, and a question 
211:247,04[B  ]| has suggested itself, whether there may not have been 
211:247,05[B  ]| one person more my enemy even than that lady?  My 
211:247,06[B  ]| own self.  Tell me if, when I returned to England in the 
211:247,07[B  ]| year eight, with a few thousand pounds, and was posted 
211:247,08[B  ]| into the Laconia, if I had then written to you, would 
211:247,09[B  ]| you have answered my letter?  would you, in short, have 
211:247,10[B  ]| renewed the engagement then?" 
211:247,11[A  ]| "Would I!" 
211:247,11['  ]| was all her answer; but the accent was 
211:247,12['  ]| decisive enough. 
211:247,13[B  ]| "Good God!" 
211:247,13['  ]| he cried, 
211:247,13[B  ]| "you would!  It is not that 
211:247,14[B  ]| I did not think of it, or desire it, as what could alone 
211:247,15[B  ]| crown all my other success.  But I was proud, too proud 
211:247,16[B  ]| to ask again.  I did not understand you.  I shut my 
211:247,17[B  ]| eyes, and would not understand you, or do you justice. 
211:247,18[B  ]| This is a recollection which ought to make me forgive 
211:247,19[B  ]| every*one sooner than myself.  Six years of separation 
211:247,20[B  ]| and suffering might have been spared.  It is a sort of 
211:247,21[B  ]| pain, too, which is new to me.  I have been used to the 
211:247,22[B  ]| gratification of believing myself to earn every blessing 
211:247,23[B  ]| that I enjoyed.  I have valued myself on honourable toils 
211:247,24[B  ]| and just rewards.  Like other great men under reverses," 
211:247,25['  ]| he added with a smile, 
211:247,25[B  ]| "I must endeavour to subdue my 
211:247,26[B  ]| mind to my fortune.  I must learn to brook being happier 
211:247,27[B  ]| than I deserve." 
212:248,01['  ]| Who can be in doubt of what followed?  When any 
212:248,02['  ]| two young people take it into their heads to marry, they 
212:248,03['  ]| are pretty sure by perseverance to carry their point, be 
212:248,04['  ]| they ever so poor, or ever so imprudent, or ever so little 
212:248,05['  ]| likely to be necessary to each other's ultimate comfort. 
212:248,06['  ]| This may be bad morality to conclude with, but I believe 
212:248,07['  ]| it to be truth; and if such parties succeed, how should 
212:248,08['  ]| a $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth and an $PN#A$Anne*Elliot, with the 
212:248,09['  ]| advantage of maturity of mind, consciousness of right, 
212:248,10['  ]| and one independent fortune between them, fail of bearing 
212:248,11['  ]| down every opposition?  They might in fact have borne 
212:248,12['  ]| down a great deal more than they met with, for there was 
212:248,13['  ]| little to distress them beyond the want of graciousness 
212:248,14['  ]| and warmth. ~~ $PN#G$Sir*Walter made no objection, and $PN#H$Elizabeth 
212:248,15['  ]| did nothing worse than look cold and unconcerned. 
212:248,16['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, with five-and-twenty thousand 
212:248,17['  ]| pounds, and as high in his profession as merit and activity 
212:248,18['  ]| could place him, was no longer nobody.  He was now 
212:248,19['  ]| esteemed quite worthy to address the daughter of a foolish, 
212:248,20['  ]| spendthrift baronet, who had not had principle or sense 
212:248,21['  ]| enough to maintain himself in the situation in which 
212:248,22['  ]| Providence had placed him, and who could give his 
212:248,23['  ]| daughter at present but a small part of the share of ten 
212:248,24['  ]| thousand pounds which must be hers hereafter. 
212:248,25['  ]| $PN#G$Sir*Walter indeed, though he had no affection for $PN#A$Anne, 
212:248,26['  ]| and no vanity flattered, to make him really happy on 
212:248,27['  ]| the occasion, was very far from thinking it a bad match 
212:248,28['  ]| for her.  On the contrary, when he saw more of $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, 
212:248,29['  ]| saw him repeatedly by daylight and eyed 
212:248,30['  ]| him well, he was very much struck by his personal claims, 
212:248,31['  ]| and felt that his superiority of appearance might be not 
212:248,32['  ]| unfairly balanced against her superiority of rank; and 
212:248,33['  ]| all this assisted by his well-sounding name, enabled $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
212:249,01['  ]| at last to prepare his pen with a very good grace 
212:249,02['  ]| for the insertion of the marriage in the volume of honour. 
212:249,03['  ]| The only one among them, whose opposition of feeling 
212:249,04['  ]| could excite any serious anxiety, was $PN#K$Lady*Russell.  $PN#A$Anne 
212:249,05['  ]| knew that $PN#K$Lady*Russell must be suffering some pain in 
212:249,06['  ]| understanding and relinquishing $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot, and be making 
212:249,07['  ]| some struggles to become truly acquainted with, and do 
212:249,08['  ]| justice to $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth.  This however was what 
212:249,09['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell had now to do.  She must learn to feel that 
212:249,10['  ]| she had been mistaken with regard to both; that she 
212:249,11['  ]| had been unfairly influenced by appearances in each; 
212:249,12['  ]| that because $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's manners had not suited 
212:249,13['  ]| her own ideas, she had been too quick in suspecting them 
212:249,14['  ]| to indicate a character of dangerous impetuosity; and 
212:249,15['  ]| that because $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot's manners had precisely pleased 
212:249,16['  ]| her in their propriety and correctness, their general politeness 
212:249,17['  ]| and suavity, she had been too quick in receiving 
212:249,18['  ]| them as the certain result of the most correct opinions 
212:249,19['  ]| and well*regulated mind.  There was nothing less for 
212:249,20['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell to do, than to admit that she had been 
212:249,21['  ]| pretty completely wrong, and to take up a new set of 
212:249,22['  ]| opinions and of hopes. 
212:249,23['  ]| There is a quickness of perception in some, a nicety 
212:249,24['  ]| in the discernment of character, a natural penetration, in 
212:249,25['  ]| short, which no experience in others can equal, and 
$PN#K$Lady*Russell 
212:249,26['  ]| had been less gifted in this part of understanding 
212:249,27['  ]| than her young friend.  But she was a very good woman, 
212:249,28['  ]| and if her second object was to be sensible and well-judging, 
212:249,29['  ]| her first was to see $PN#A$Anne happy.  She loved $PN#A$Anne 
212:249,30['  ]| better than she loved her own abilities; and when the 
212:249,31['  ]| awkwardness of the beginning was over, found little hardship 
212:249,32['  ]| in attaching herself as a mother to the man who was 
212:249,33['  ]| securing the happiness of her other child. 
212:249,34['  ]| Of all the family, $PN#P$Mary was probably the one most 
212:249,35['  ]| immediately gratified by the circumstance. 
212:249,35@p   | It was creditable 
212:249,36@p   | to have a sister married, and she might flatter herself 
212:249,37@p   | with having been greatly instrumental to the connexion, 
212:249,38@p   | by keeping $PN#A$Anne with her in the autumn; and as her 
212:250,01@p   | own sister must be better than her husband's sisters, it 
212:250,02@p   | was very agreeable that $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth should be 
212:250,03@p   | a richer man than either $PN#ZD$Captain*Benwick or $PN#L$Charles*Hayter. 
212:250,04['  ]| ~~ She had something to suffer perhaps when they 
212:250,05['  ]| came into contact again, in seeing $PN#A$Anne restored to the 
212:250,06['  ]| rights of seniority, and the mistress of a very pretty 
212:250,07['  ]| landaulette; but she had a future to look forward to, 
212:250,08['  ]| of powerful consolation. 
212:250,08@p   | $PN#A$Anne had no Uppercross-hall 
212:250,09@p   | before her, no landed estate, no headship of a family; 
212:250,10@p   | and if they could but keep $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth from 
212:250,11@p   | being made a baronet, she would not change situations 
212:250,12@p   | with $PN#A$Anne. 
212:250,13['  ]| It would be well for the eldest sister if she were equally 
212:250,14['  ]| satisfied with her situation, for a change is not very 
212:250,15['  ]| probable there.  She had soon the mortification of seeing 
212:250,16['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot withdraw; and no*one of proper condition has 
212:250,17['  ]| since presented himself to raise even the unfounded hopes 
212:250,18['  ]| which sunk with him. 
212:250,19['  ]| The news of his cousin $PN#A$Anne's engagement burst on 
212:250,20['  ]| $PN#I$Mr%*Elliot most unexpectedly.  It deranged his best plan 
212:250,21['  ]| of domestic happiness, his best hope of keeping $PN#G$Sir*Walter 
212:250,22['  ]| single by the watchfulness which a son-in-law's rights 
212:250,23['  ]| would have given.  But, though discomfited and disappointed, 
212:250,24['  ]| he could still do something for his own interest 
212:250,25['  ]| and his own enjoyment.  He soon quitted Bath; and on 
212:250,26['  ]| $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay's quitting it likewise soon afterwards, and being 
212:250,27['  ]| next heard of as established under his protection in 
212:250,28['  ]| London, it was evident how double a game he had been 
212:250,29['  ]| playing, and how determined he was to save himself from 
212:250,30['  ]| being cut out by one artful woman, at least. 
212:250,31['  ]| $PN#C$Mrs%*Clay's affections had overpowered her interest, 
212:250,32['  ]| and she had sacrificed, for the young man's sake, the 
212:250,33['  ]| possibility of scheming longer for $PN#G$Sir*Walter.  She has 
212:250,34['  ]| abilities, however, as well as affections; and it is now 
212:250,35['  ]| a doubtful point whether his cunning, or hers, may finally 
212:250,36['  ]| carry the day; whether, after preventing her from being 
212:250,37['  ]| the wife of $PN#G$Sir*Walter, he may not be wheedled and 
212:250,38['  ]| caressed at last into making her the wife of $PN#I$Sir*William. 
212:251,01['  ]| It cannot be doubted that $PN#G$Sir*Walter and $PN#H$Elizabeth 
212:251,02['  ]| were shocked and mortified by the loss of their companion, 
212:251,03['  ]| and the discovery of their deception in her.  They had 
212:251,04['  ]| their great cousins, to be sure, to resort to for comfort; 
212:251,05['  ]| but they must long feel that to flatter and follow others, 
212:251,06['  ]| without being flattered and followed in turn, is but a state 
212:251,07['  ]| of half enjoyment. 
212:251,08['  ]| $PN#A$Anne, satisfied at a very early period of $PN#K$Lady*Russell's 
212:251,09['  ]| meaning to love $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth as she ought, had 
212:251,10['  ]| no other alloy to the happiness of her prospects than 
212:251,11['  ]| what arose from the consciousness of having no relations 
212:251,12['  ]| to bestow on him which a man of sense could value. 
212:251,13['  ]| There she felt her own inferiority keenly. 
212:251,13@a   | The disproportion 
212:251,14@a   | in their fortune was nothing; it did not give her 
212:251,15@a   | a moment's regret; but to have no family to receive and 
212:251,16@a   | estimate him properly; nothing of respectability, of harmony, 
212:251,17@a   | of good-will to offer in return for all the worth 
212:251,18@a   | and all the prompt welcome which met her in his brothers 
212:251,19@a   | and sisters, 
212:251,19['  ]| was a source of as lively pain as her mind 
212:251,20['  ]| could well be sensible of, under circumstances of otherwise 
212:251,21['  ]| strong felicity.  She had but two friends in the world 
212:251,22['  ]| to add to his list, $PN#K$Lady*Russell and $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith.  To 
212:251,23['  ]| those, however, he was very well*disposed to attach himself. 
212:251,24['  ]| $PN#K$Lady*Russell, in spite of all her former transgressions, 
212:251,25['  ]| he could now value from his heart.  While he was 
212:251,26['  ]| not obliged to say that he believed her to have been right 
212:251,27['  ]| in originally dividing them, he was ready to say almost 
212:251,28['  ]| every*thing else in her favour; and as for $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith, 
212:251,29['  ]| she had claims of various kinds to recommend her quickly 
212:251,30['  ]| and permanently. 
212:251,31['  ]| Her recent good offices by $PN#A$Anne had been enough in 
212:251,32['  ]| themselves; and their marriage, instead of depriving her 
212:251,33['  ]| of one friend, secured her two.  She was their earliest 
212:251,34['  ]| visitor in their settled life; and $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth, by 
212:251,35['  ]| putting her in the way of recovering her husband's property 
212:251,36['  ]| in the West*Indies; by writing for her, acting for 
212:251,37['  ]| her, and seeing her through all the petty difficulties of 
212:251,38['  ]| the case, with the activity and exertion of a fearless man 
212:252,01['  ]| and a determined friend, fully requited the services which 
212:252,02['  ]| she had rendered, or ever meant to render, to his wife. 
212:252,03['  ]| $PN#F$Mrs%*Smith's enjoyments were not spoiled by this 
212:252,04['  ]| improvement of income, with some improvement of 
212:252,05['  ]| health, and the acquisition of such friends to be often 
212:252,06['  ]| with, for her cheerfulness and mental alacrity did not 
212:252,07['  ]| fail her; and while these prime supplies of good remained, 
212:252,08['  ]| she might have bid defiance even to greater accessions 
212:252,09['  ]| of worldly prosperity.  She might have been absolutely 
212:252,10['  ]| rich and perfectly healthy, and yet be happy.  Her spring 
212:252,11['  ]| of felicity was in the glow of her spirits, as her friend 
212:252,12['  ]| $PN#A$Anne's was in the warmth of her heart.  $PN#A$Anne was 
212:252,13['  ]| tenderness itself, and she had the full worth of it in 
212:252,14['  ]| $PN#B$Captain*Wentworth's affection.  His profession was all 
212:252,15['  ]| that could ever make her friends wish that tenderness 
212:252,16['  ]| less; the dread of a future war all that could dim her 
212:252,17['  ]| sunshine.  She gloried in being a sailor's wife, but she 
212:252,18['  ]| must pay the tax of quick alarm for belonging to that 
212:252,19['  ]| profession which is, if possible, more distinguished in its 
212:252,20['  ]| domestic virtues than in its national importance.