Persuasion

Chapter 22

Anne went home to think over all that she had heard. In one point, herfeelings were relieved by this knowledge of Mr Elliot. There was nolonger anything of tenderness due to him. He stood as opposed toCaptain Wentworth, in all his own unwelcome obtrusiveness; and the evilof his attentions last night, the irremediable mischief he might havedone, was considered with sensations unqualified, unperplexed. Pityfor him was all over. But this was the only point of relief. In everyother respect, in looking around her, or penetrating forward, she sawmore to distrust and to apprehend. She was concerned for thedisappointment and pain Lady Russell would be feeling; for themortifications which must be hanging over her father and sister, andhad all the distress of foreseeing many evils, without knowing how toavert any one of them. She was most thankful for her own knowledge ofhim. She had never considered herself as entitled to reward for notslighting an old friend like Mrs Smith, but here was a reward indeedspringing from it! Mrs Smith had been able to tell her what no oneelse could have done. Could the knowledge have been extended throughher family? But this was a vain idea. She must talk to Lady Russell,tell her, consult with her, and having done her best, wait the eventwith as much composure as possible; and after all, her greatest want ofcomposure would be in that quarter of the mind which could not beopened to Lady Russell; in that flow of anxieties and fears which mustbe all to herself.

She found, on reaching home, that she had, as she intended, escapedseeing Mr Elliot; that he had called and paid them a long morningvisit; but hardly had she congratulated herself, and felt safe, whenshe heard that he was coming again in the evening.

”I had not the smallest intention of asking him,” said Elizabeth, withaffected carelessness, ”but he gave so many hints; so Mrs Clay says, atleast.”

”Indeed, I do say it. I never saw anybody in my life spell harder foran invitation. Poor man! I was really in pain for him; for yourhard-hearted sister, Miss Anne, seems bent on cruelty.”

”Oh!” cried Elizabeth, ”I have been rather too much used to the game tobe soon overcome by a gentleman's hints. However, when I found howexcessively he was regretting that he should miss my father thismorning, I gave way immediately, for I would never really omit anopportunity of bringing him and Sir Walter together. They appear to somuch advantage in company with each other. Each behaving sopleasantly. Mr Elliot looking up with so much respect.”

”Quite delightful!” cried Mrs Clay, not daring, however, to turn hereyes towards Anne. ”Exactly like father and son! Dear Miss Elliot,may I not say father and son?”

”Oh! I lay no embargo on any body's words. If you will have suchideas! But, upon my word, I am scarcely sensible of his attentionsbeing beyond those of other men.”

”My dear Miss Elliot!” exclaimed Mrs Clay, lifting her hands and eyes,and sinking all the rest of her astonishment in a convenient silence.

”Well, my dear Penelope, you need not be so alarmed about him. I didinvite him, you know. I sent him away with smiles. When I found hewas really going to his friends at Thornberry Park for the whole dayto-morrow, I had compassion on him.”

Anne admired the good acting of the friend, in being able to shew suchpleasure as she did, in the expectation and in the actual arrival ofthe very person whose presence must really be interfering with herprime object. It was impossible but that Mrs Clay must hate the sightof Mr Elliot; and yet she could assume a most obliging, placid look,and appear quite satisfied with the curtailed license of devotingherself only half as much to Sir Walter as she would have doneotherwise.

To Anne herself it was most distressing to see Mr Elliot enter theroom; and quite painful to have him approach and speak to her. She hadbeen used before to feel that he could not be always quite sincere, butnow she saw insincerity in everything. His attentive deference to herfather, contrasted with his former language, was odious; and when shethought of his cruel conduct towards Mrs Smith, she could hardly bearthe sight of his present smiles and mildness, or the sound of hisartificial good sentiments.

She meant to avoid any such alteration of manners as might provoke aremonstrance on his side. It was a great object to her to escape allenquiry or eclat; but it was her intention to be as decidedly cool tohim as might be compatible with their relationship; and to retrace, asquietly as she could, the few steps of unnecessary intimacy she hadbeen gradually led along. She was accordingly more guarded, and morecool, than she had been the night before.

He wanted to animate her curiosity again as to how and where he couldhave heard her formerly praised; wanted very much to be gratified bymore solicitation; but the charm was broken: he found that the heat andanimation of a public room was necessary to kindle his modest cousin'svanity; he found, at least, that it was not to be done now, by any ofthose attempts which he could hazard among the too-commanding claims ofthe others. He little surmised that it was a subject acting nowexactly against his interest, bringing immediately to her thoughts allthose parts of his conduct which were least excusable.

She had some satisfaction in finding that he was really going out ofBath the next morning, going early, and that he would be gone thegreater part of two days. He was invited again to Camden Place thevery evening of his return; but from Thursday to Saturday evening hisabsence was certain. It was bad enough that a Mrs Clay should bealways before her; but that a deeper hypocrite should be added to theirparty, seemed the destruction of everything like peace and comfort. Itwas so humiliating to reflect on the constant deception practised onher father and Elizabeth; to consider the various sources ofmortification preparing for them! Mrs Clay's selfishness was not socomplicate nor so revolting as his; and Anne would have compounded forthe marriage at once, with all its evils, to be clear of Mr Elliot'ssubtleties in endeavouring to prevent it.

On Friday morning she meant to go very early to Lady Russell, andaccomplish the necessary communication; and she would have gonedirectly after breakfast, but that Mrs Clay was also going out on someobliging purpose of saving her sister trouble, which determined her towait till she might be safe from such a companion. She saw Mrs Clayfairly off, therefore, before she began to talk of spending the morningin Rivers Street.

”Very well,” said Elizabeth, ”I have nothing to send but my love. Oh!you may as well take back that tiresome book she would lend me, andpretend I have read it through. I really cannot be plaguing myself forever with all the new poems and states of the nation that come out.Lady Russell quite bores one with her new publications. You need nottell her so, but I thought her dress hideous the other night. I usedto think she had some taste in dress, but I was ashamed of her at theconcert. Something so formal and arrange in her air! and she sits soupright! My best love, of course.”

”And mine,” added Sir Walter. ”Kindest regards. And you may say, thatI mean to call upon her soon. Make a civil message; but I shall onlyleave my card. Morning visits are never fair by women at her time oflife, who make themselves up so little. If she would only wear rougeshe would not be afraid of being seen; but last time I called, Iobserved the blinds were let down immediately.”

While her father spoke, there was a knock at the door. Who could itbe? Anne, remembering the preconcerted visits, at all hours, of MrElliot, would have expected him, but for his known engagement sevenmiles off. After the usual period of suspense, the usual sounds ofapproach were heard, and ”Mr and Mrs Charles Musgrove” were usheredinto the room.

Surprise was the strongest emotion raised by their appearance; but Annewas really glad to see them; and the others were not so sorry but thatthey could put on a decent air of welcome; and as soon as it becameclear that these, their nearest relations, were not arrived with anyviews of accommodation in that house, Sir Walter and Elizabeth wereable to rise in cordiality, and do the honours of it very well. Theywere come to Bath for a few days with Mrs Musgrove, and were at theWhite Hart. So much was pretty soon understood; but till Sir Walterand Elizabeth were walking Mary into the other drawing-room, andregaling themselves with her admiration, Anne could not draw uponCharles's brain for a regular history of their coming, or anexplanation of some smiling hints of particular business, which hadbeen ostentatiously dropped by Mary, as well as of some apparentconfusion as to whom their party consisted of.

She then found that it consisted of Mrs Musgrove, Henrietta, andCaptain Harville, beside their two selves. He gave her a very plain,intelligible account of the whole; a narration in which she saw a greatdeal of most characteristic proceeding. The scheme had received itsfirst impulse by Captain Harville's wanting to come to Bath onbusiness. He had begun to talk of it a week ago; and by way of doingsomething, as shooting was over, Charles had proposed coming with him,and Mrs Harville had seemed to like the idea of it very much, as anadvantage to her husband; but Mary could not bear to be left, and hadmade herself so unhappy about it, that for a day or two everythingseemed to be in suspense, or at an end. But then, it had been taken upby his father and mother. His mother had some old friends in Bath whomshe wanted to see; it was thought a good opportunity for Henrietta tocome and buy wedding-clothes for herself and her sister; and, in short,it ended in being his mother's party, that everything might becomfortable and easy to Captain Harville; and he and Mary were includedin it by way of general convenience. They had arrived late the nightbefore. Mrs Harville, her children, and Captain Benwick, remained withMr Musgrove and Louisa at Uppercross.

Anne's only surprise was, that affairs should be in forwardness enoughfor Henrietta's wedding-clothes to be talked of. She had imagined suchdifficulties of fortune to exist there as must prevent the marriagefrom being near at hand; but she learned from Charles that, veryrecently, (since Mary's last letter to herself), Charles Hayter hadbeen applied to by a friend to hold a living for a youth who could notpossibly claim it under many years; and that on the strength of hispresent income, with almost a certainty of something more permanentlong before the term in question, the two families had consented to theyoung people's wishes, and that their marriage was likely to take placein a few months, quite as soon as Louisa's. ”And a very good living itwas,” Charles added: ”only five-and-twenty miles from Uppercross, andin a very fine country: fine part of Dorsetshire. In the centre ofsome of the best preserves in the kingdom, surrounded by three greatproprietors, each more careful and jealous than the other; and to twoof the three at least, Charles Hayter might get a specialrecommendation. Not that he will value it as he ought,” he observed,”Charles is too cool about sporting. That's the worst of him.”

”I am extremely glad, indeed,” cried Anne, ”particularly glad that thisshould happen; and that of two sisters, who both deserve equally well,and who have always been such good friends, the pleasant prospect ofone should not be dimming those of the other--that they should be soequal in their prosperity and comfort. I hope your father and motherare quite happy with regard to both.”

”Oh! yes. My father would be well pleased if the gentlemen werericher, but he has no other fault to find. Money, you know, comingdown with money--two daughters at once--it cannot be a very agreeableoperation, and it streightens him as to many things. However, I do notmean to say they have not a right to it. It is very fit they shouldhave daughters' shares; and I am sure he has always been a very kind,liberal father to me. Mary does not above half like Henrietta's match.She never did, you know. But she does not do him justice, nor thinkenough about Winthrop. I cannot make her attend to the value of theproperty. It is a very fair match, as times go; and I have likedCharles Hayter all my life, and I shall not leave off now.”

”Such excellent parents as Mr and Mrs Musgrove,” exclaimed Anne,”should be happy in their children's marriages. They do everything toconfer happiness, I am sure. What a blessing to young people to be insuch hands! Your father and mother seem so totally free from all thoseambitious feelings which have led to so much misconduct and misery,both in young and old. I hope you think Louisa perfectly recoverednow?”

He answered rather hesitatingly, ”Yes, I believe I do; very muchrecovered; but she is altered; there is no running or jumping about, nolaughing or dancing; it is quite different. If one happens only toshut the door a little hard, she starts and wriggles like a youngdab-chick in the water; and Benwick sits at her elbow, reading verses,or whispering to her, all day long.”

Anne could not help laughing. ”That cannot be much to your taste, Iknow,” said she; ”but I do believe him to be an excellent young man.”

”To be sure he is. Nobody doubts it; and I hope you do not think I amso illiberal as to want every man to have the same objects andpleasures as myself. I have a great value for Benwick; and when onecan but get him to talk, he has plenty to say. His reading has donehim no harm, for he has fought as well as read. He is a brave fellow.I got more acquainted with him last Monday than ever I did before. Wehad a famous set-to at rat-hunting all the morning in my father's greatbarns; and he played his part so well that I have liked him the betterever since.”

Here they were interrupted by the absolute necessity of Charles'sfollowing the others to admire mirrors and china; but Anne had heardenough to understand the present state of Uppercross, and rejoice inits happiness; and though she sighed as she rejoiced, her sigh had noneof the ill-will of envy in it. She would certainly have risen to theirblessings if she could, but she did not want to lessen theirs.

The visit passed off altogether in high good humour. Mary was inexcellent spirits, enjoying the gaiety and the change, and so wellsatisfied with the journey in her mother-in-law's carriage with fourhorses, and with her own complete independence of Camden Place, thatshe was exactly in a temper to admire everything as she ought, andenter most readily into all the superiorities of the house, as theywere detailed to her. She had no demands on her father or sister, andher consequence was just enough increased by their handsomedrawing-rooms.

Elizabeth was, for a short time, suffering a good deal. She felt thatMrs Musgrove and all her party ought to be asked to dine with them; butshe could not bear to have the difference of style, the reduction ofservants, which a dinner must betray, witnessed by those who had beenalways so inferior to the Elliots of Kellynch. It was a strugglebetween propriety and vanity; but vanity got the better, and thenElizabeth was happy again. These were her internal persuasions: ”Oldfashioned notions; country hospitality; we do not profess to givedinners; few people in Bath do; Lady Alicia never does; did not evenask her own sister's family, though they were here a month: and I daresay it would be very inconvenient to Mrs Musgrove; put her quite out ofher way. I am sure she would rather not come; she cannot feel easywith us. I will ask them all for an evening; that will be much better;that will be a novelty and a treat. They have not seen two suchdrawing rooms before. They will be delighted to come to-morrowevening. It shall be a regular party, small, but most elegant.” Andthis satisfied Elizabeth: and when the invitation was given to the twopresent, and promised for the absent, Mary was as completely satisfied.She was particularly asked to meet Mr Elliot, and be introduced to LadyDalrymple and Miss Carteret, who were fortunately already engaged tocome; and she could not have received a more gratifying attention.Miss Elliot was to have the honour of calling on Mrs Musgrove in thecourse of the morning; and Anne walked off with Charles and Mary, to goand see her and Henrietta directly.

Her plan of sitting with Lady Russell must give way for the present.They all three called in Rivers Street for a couple of minutes; butAnne convinced herself that a day's delay of the intended communicationcould be of no consequence, and hastened forward to the White Hart, tosee again the friends and companions of the last autumn, with aneagerness of good-will which many associations contributed to form.

They found Mrs Musgrove and her daughter within, and by themselves, andAnne had the kindest welcome from each. Henrietta was exactly in thatstate of recently-improved views, of fresh-formed happiness, which madeher full of regard and interest for everybody she had ever liked beforeat all; and Mrs Musgrove's real affection had been won by herusefulness when they were in distress. It was a heartiness, and awarmth, and a sincerity which Anne delighted in the more, from the sadwant of such blessings at home. She was entreated to give them as muchof her time as possible, invited for every day and all day long, orrather claimed as part of the family; and, in return, she naturallyfell into all her wonted ways of attention and assistance, and onCharles's leaving them together, was listening to Mrs Musgrove'shistory of Louisa, and to Henrietta's of herself, giving opinions onbusiness, and recommendations to shops; with intervals of every helpwhich Mary required, from altering her ribbon to settling her accounts;from finding her keys, and assorting her trinkets, to trying toconvince her that she was not ill-used by anybody; which Mary, wellamused as she generally was, in her station at a window overlooking theentrance to the Pump Room, could not but have her moments of imagining.

A morning of thorough confusion was to be expected. A large party inan hotel ensured a quick-changing, unsettled scene. One five minutesbrought a note, the next a parcel; and Anne had not been there half anhour, when their dining-room, spacious as it was, seemed more than halffilled: a party of steady old friends were seated around Mrs Musgrove,and Charles came back with Captains Harville and Wentworth. Theappearance of the latter could not be more than the surprise of themoment. It was impossible for her to have forgotten to feel that thisarrival of their common friends must be soon bringing them togetheragain. Their last meeting had been most important in opening hisfeelings; she had derived from it a delightful conviction; but shefeared from his looks, that the same unfortunate persuasion, which hadhastened him away from the Concert Room, still governed. He did notseem to want to be near enough for conversation.

She tried to be calm, and leave things to take their course, and triedto dwell much on this argument of rational dependence:--”Surely, ifthere be constant attachment on each side, our hearts must understandeach other ere long. We are not boy and girl, to be captiouslyirritable, misled by every moment's inadvertence, and wantonly playingwith our own happiness.” And yet, a few minutes afterwards, she feltas if their being in company with each other, under their presentcircumstances, could only be exposing them to inadvertencies andmisconstructions of the most mischievous kind.

”Anne,” cried Mary, still at her window, ”there is Mrs Clay, I am sure,standing under the colonnade, and a gentleman with her. I saw themturn the corner from Bath Street just now. They seemed deep in talk.Who is it? Come, and tell me. Good heavens! I recollect. It is MrElliot himself.”

”No,” cried Anne, quickly, ”it cannot be Mr Elliot, I assure you. Hewas to leave Bath at nine this morning, and does not come back tillto-morrow.”

As she spoke, she felt that Captain Wentworth was looking at her, theconsciousness of which vexed and embarrassed her, and made her regretthat she had said so much, simple as it was.

Mary, resenting that she should be supposed not to know her own cousin,began talking very warmly about the family features, and protestingstill more positively that it was Mr Elliot, calling again upon Anne tocome and look for herself, but Anne did not mean to stir, and tried tobe cool and unconcerned. Her distress returned, however, on perceivingsmiles and intelligent glances pass between two or three of the ladyvisitors, as if they believed themselves quite in the secret. It wasevident that the report concerning her had spread, and a short pausesucceeded, which seemed to ensure that it would now spread farther.

”Do come, Anne,” cried Mary, ”come and look yourself. You will be toolate if you do not make haste. They are parting; they are shakinghands. He is turning away. Not know Mr Elliot, indeed! You seem tohave forgot all about Lyme.”

To pacify Mary, and perhaps screen her own embarrassment, Anne did movequietly to the window. She was just in time to ascertain that itreally was Mr Elliot, which she had never believed, before hedisappeared on one side, as Mrs Clay walked quickly off on the other;and checking the surprise which she could not but feel at such anappearance of friendly conference between two persons of totallyopposite interest, she calmly said, ”Yes, it is Mr Elliot, certainly.He has changed his hour of going, I suppose, that is all, or I may bemistaken, I might not attend;” and walked back to her chair,recomposed, and with the comfortable hope of having acquitted herselfwell.

The visitors took their leave; and Charles, having civilly seen themoff, and then made a face at them, and abused them for coming, beganwith--

”Well, mother, I have done something for you that you will like. Ihave been to the theatre, and secured a box for to-morrow night. A'n'tI a good boy? I know you love a play; and there is room for us all.It holds nine. I have engaged Captain Wentworth. Anne will not besorry to join us, I am sure. We all like a play. Have not I donewell, mother?”

Mrs Musgrove was good humouredly beginning to express her perfectreadiness for the play, if Henrietta and all the others liked it, whenMary eagerly interrupted her by exclaiming--

”Good heavens, Charles! how can you think of such a thing? Take a boxfor to-morrow night! Have you forgot that we are engaged to CamdenPlace to-morrow night? and that we were most particularly asked to meetLady Dalrymple and her daughter, and Mr Elliot, and all the principalfamily connexions, on purpose to be introduced to them? How can you beso forgetful?”

”Phoo! phoo!” replied Charles, ”what's an evening party? Never worthremembering. Your father might have asked us to dinner, I think, if hehad wanted to see us. You may do as you like, but I shall go to theplay.”

”Oh! Charles, I declare it will be too abominable if you do, when youpromised to go.”

”No, I did not promise. I only smirked and bowed, and said the word'happy.' There was no promise.”

”But you must go, Charles. It would be unpardonable to fail. We wereasked on purpose to be introduced. There was always such a greatconnexion between the Dalrymples and ourselves. Nothing ever happenedon either side that was not announced immediately. We are quite nearrelations, you know; and Mr Elliot too, whom you ought so particularlyto be acquainted with! Every attention is due to Mr Elliot. Consider,my father's heir: the future representative of the family.”

”Don't talk to me about heirs and representatives,” cried Charles. ”Iam not one of those who neglect the reigning power to bow to the risingsun. If I would not go for the sake of your father, I should think itscandalous to go for the sake of his heir. What is Mr Elliot to me?”The careless expression was life to Anne, who saw that CaptainWentworth was all attention, looking and listening with his whole soul;and that the last words brought his enquiring eyes from Charles toherself.

Charles and Mary still talked on in the same style; he, half seriousand half jesting, maintaining the scheme for the play, and she,invariably serious, most warmly opposing it, and not omitting to makeit known that, however determined to go to Camden Place herself, sheshould not think herself very well used, if they went to the playwithout her. Mrs Musgrove interposed.

”We had better put it off. Charles, you had much better go back andchange the box for Tuesday. It would be a pity to be divided, and weshould be losing Miss Anne, too, if there is a party at her father's;and I am sure neither Henrietta nor I should care at all for the play,if Miss Anne could not be with us.”

Anne felt truly obliged to her for such kindness; and quite as much sofor the opportunity it gave her of decidedly saying--

”If it depended only on my inclination, ma'am, the party at home(excepting on Mary's account) would not be the smallest impediment. Ihave no pleasure in the sort of meeting, and should be too happy tochange it for a play, and with you. But, it had better not beattempted, perhaps.” She had spoken it; but she trembled when it wasdone, conscious that her words were listened to, and daring not even totry to observe their effect.

It was soon generally agreed that Tuesday should be the day; Charlesonly reserving the advantage of still teasing his wife, by persistingthat he would go to the play to-morrow if nobody else would.

Captain Wentworth left his seat, and walked to the fire-place; probablyfor the sake of walking away from it soon afterwards, and taking astation, with less bare-faced design, by Anne.

”You have not been long enough in Bath,” said he, ”to enjoy the eveningparties of the place.”

”Oh! no. The usual character of them has nothing for me. I am nocard-player.”

”You were not formerly, I know. You did not use to like cards; buttime makes many changes.”

”I am not yet so much changed,” cried Anne, and stopped, fearing shehardly knew what misconstruction. After waiting a few moments he said,and as if it were the result of immediate feeling, ”It is a period,indeed! Eight years and a half is a period.”

Whether he would have proceeded farther was left to Anne's imaginationto ponder over in a calmer hour; for while still hearing the sounds hehad uttered, she was startled to other subjects by Henrietta, eager tomake use of the present leisure for getting out, and calling on hercompanions to lose no time, lest somebody else should come in.

They were obliged to move. Anne talked of being perfectly ready, andtried to look it; but she felt that could Henrietta have known theregret and reluctance of her heart in quitting that chair, in preparingto quit the room, she would have found, in all her own sensations forher cousin, in the very security of his affection, wherewith to pityher.

Their preparations, however, were stopped short. Alarming sounds wereheard; other visitors approached, and the door was thrown open for SirWalter and Miss Elliot, whose entrance seemed to give a general chill.Anne felt an instant oppression, and wherever she looked saw symptomsof the same. The comfort, the freedom, the gaiety of the room wasover, hushed into cold composure, determined silence, or insipid talk,to meet the heartless elegance of her father and sister. Howmortifying to feel that it was so!

Her jealous eye was satisfied in one particular. Captain Wentworth wasacknowledged again by each, by Elizabeth more graciously than before.She even addressed him once, and looked at him more than once.Elizabeth was, in fact, revolving a great measure. The sequelexplained it. After the waste of a few minutes in saying the propernothings, she began to give the invitation which was to comprise allthe remaining dues of the Musgroves. ”To-morrow evening, to meet a fewfriends: no formal party.” It was all said very gracefully, and thecards with which she had provided herself, the ”Miss Elliot at home,”were laid on the table, with a courteous, comprehensive smile to all,and one smile and one card more decidedly for Captain Wentworth. Thetruth was, that Elizabeth had been long enough in Bath to understandthe importance of a man of such an air and appearance as his. The pastwas nothing. The present was that Captain Wentworth would move aboutwell in her drawing-room. The card was pointedly given, and Sir Walterand Elizabeth arose and disappeared.

The interruption had been short, though severe, and ease and animationreturned to most of those they left as the door shut them out, but notto Anne. She could think only of the invitation she had with suchastonishment witnessed, and of the manner in which it had beenreceived; a manner of doubtful meaning, of surprise rather thangratification, of polite acknowledgement rather than acceptance. Sheknew him; she saw disdain in his eye, and could not venture to believethat he had determined to accept such an offering, as an atonement forall the insolence of the past. Her spirits sank. He held the card inhis hand after they were gone, as if deeply considering it.

”Only think of Elizabeth's including everybody!” whispered Mary veryaudibly. ”I do not wonder Captain Wentworth is delighted! You see hecannot put the card out of his hand.”

Anne caught his eye, saw his cheeks glow, and his mouth form itselfinto a momentary expression of contempt, and turned away, that shemight neither see nor hear more to vex her.

The party separated. The gentlemen had their own pursuits, the ladiesproceeded on their own business, and they met no more while Annebelonged to them. She was earnestly begged to return and dine, andgive them all the rest of the day, but her spirits had been so longexerted that at present she felt unequal to more, and fit only forhome, where she might be sure of being as silent as she chose.

Promising to be with them the whole of the following morning,therefore, she closed the fatigues of the present by a toilsome walk toCamden Place, there to spend the evening chiefly in listening to thebusy arrangements of Elizabeth and Mrs Clay for the morrow's party, thefrequent enumeration of the persons invited, and the continuallyimproving detail of all the embellishments which were to make it themost completely elegant of its kind in Bath, while harassing herselfwith the never-ending question, of whether Captain Wentworth would comeor not? They were reckoning him as certain, but with her it was agnawing solicitude never appeased for five minutes together. Shegenerally thought he would come, because she generally thought heought; but it was a case which she could not so shape into any positiveact of duty or discretion, as inevitably to defy the suggestions ofvery opposite feelings.

She only roused herself from the broodings of this restless agitation,to let Mrs Clay know that she had been seen with Mr Elliot three hoursafter his being supposed to be out of Bath, for having watched in vainfor some intimation of the interview from the lady herself, shedetermined to mention it, and it seemed to her there was guilt in MrsClay's face as she listened. It was transient: cleared away in aninstant; but Anne could imagine she read there the consciousness ofhaving, by some complication of mutual trick, or some overbearingauthority of his, been obliged to attend (perhaps for half an hour) tohis lectures and restrictions on her designs on Sir Walter. Sheexclaimed, however, with a very tolerable imitation of nature:--

”Oh! dear! very true. Only think, Miss Elliot, to my great surprise Imet with Mr Elliot in Bath Street. I was never more astonished. Heturned back and walked with me to the Pump Yard. He had been preventedsetting off for Thornberry, but I really forget by what; for I was in ahurry, and could not much attend, and I can only answer for his beingdetermined not to be delayed in his return. He wanted to know howearly he might be admitted to-morrow. He was full of 'to-morrow,' andit is very evident that I have been full of it too, ever since Ientered the house, and learnt the extension of your plan and all thathad happened, or my seeing him could never have gone so entirely out ofmy head.”