by Jane Austen
Chapter 10
Other opportunities of making her observations could not fail to occur.Anne had soon been in company with all the four together often enoughto have an opinion, though too wise to acknowledge as much at home,where she knew it would have satisfied neither husband nor wife; forwhile she considered Louisa to be rather the favourite, she could notbut think, as far as she might dare to judge from memory andexperience, that Captain Wentworth was not in love with either. Theywere more in love with him; yet there it was not love. It was a littlefever of admiration; but it might, probably must, end in love withsome. Charles Hayter seemed aware of being slighted, and yet Henriettahad sometimes the air of being divided between them. Anne longed forthe power of representing to them all what they were about, and ofpointing out some of the evils they were exposing themselves to. Shedid not attribute guile to any. It was the highest satisfaction to herto believe Captain Wentworth not in the least aware of the pain he wasoccasioning. There was no triumph, no pitiful triumph in his manner.He had, probably, never heard, and never thought of any claims ofCharles Hayter. He was only wrong in accepting the attentions (foraccepting must be the word) of two young women at once.
After a short struggle, however, Charles Hayter seemed to quit thefield. Three days had passed without his coming once to Uppercross; amost decided change. He had even refused one regular invitation todinner; and having been found on the occasion by Mr Musgrove with somelarge books before him, Mr and Mrs Musgrove were sure all could not beright, and talked, with grave faces, of his studying himself to death.It was Mary's hope and belief that he had received a positive dismissalfrom Henrietta, and her husband lived under the constant dependence ofseeing him to-morrow. Anne could only feel that Charles Hayter waswise.
One morning, about this time Charles Musgrove and Captain Wentworthbeing gone a-shooting together, as the sisters in the Cottage weresitting quietly at work, they were visited at the window by the sistersfrom the Mansion-house.
It was a very fine November day, and the Miss Musgroves came throughthe little grounds, and stopped for no other purpose than to say, thatthey were going to take a long walk, and therefore concluded Mary couldnot like to go with them; and when Mary immediately replied, with somejealousy at not being supposed a good walker, "Oh, yes, I should liketo join you very much, I am very fond of a long walk;" Anne feltpersuaded, by the looks of the two girls, that it was precisely whatthey did not wish, and admired again the sort of necessity which thefamily habits seemed to produce, of everything being to becommunicated, and everything being to be done together, howeverundesired and inconvenient. She tried to dissuade Mary from going, butin vain; and that being the case, thought it best to accept the MissMusgroves' much more cordial invitation to herself to go likewise, asshe might be useful in turning back with her sister, and lessening theinterference in any plan of their own.
"I cannot imagine why they should suppose I should not like a longwalk," said Mary, as she went up stairs. "Everybody is alwayssupposing that I am not a good walker; and yet they would not have beenpleased, if we had refused to join them. When people come in thismanner on purpose to ask us, how can one say no?"
Just as they were setting off, the gentlemen returned. They had takenout a young dog, who had spoilt their sport, and sent them back early.Their time and strength, and spirits, were, therefore, exactly readyfor this walk, and they entered into it with pleasure. Could Anne haveforeseen such a junction, she would have staid at home; but, from somefeelings of interest and curiosity, she fancied now that it was toolate to retract, and the whole six set forward together in thedirection chosen by the Miss Musgroves, who evidently considered thewalk as under their guidance.
Anne's object was, not to be in the way of anybody; and where thenarrow paths across the fields made many separations necessary, to keepwith her brother and sister. Her pleasure in the walk must arise fromthe exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the yearupon the tawny leaves, and withered hedges, and from repeating toherself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant ofautumn, that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mindof taste and tenderness, that season which had drawn from every poet,worthy of being read, some attempt at description, or some lines offeeling. She occupied her mind as much as possible in such likemusings and quotations; but it was not possible, that when within reachof Captain Wentworth's conversation with either of the Miss Musgroves,she should not try to hear it; yet she caught little very remarkable.It was mere lively chat, such as any young persons, on an intimatefooting, might fall into. He was more engaged with Louisa than withHenrietta. Louisa certainly put more forward for his notice than hersister. This distinction appeared to increase, and there was onespeech of Louisa's which struck her. After one of the many praises ofthe day, which were continually bursting forth, Captain Wentworthadded:--
"What glorious weather for the Admiral and my sister! They meant totake a long drive this morning; perhaps we may hail them from some ofthese hills. They talked of coming into this side of the country. Iwonder whereabouts they will upset to-day. Oh! it does happen veryoften, I assure you; but my sister makes nothing of it; she would aslieve be tossed out as not."
"Ah! You make the most of it, I know," cried Louisa, "but if it werereally so, I should do just the same in her place. If I loved a man,as she loves the Admiral, I would always be with him, nothing shouldever separate us, and I would rather be overturned by him, than drivensafely by anybody else."
It was spoken with enthusiasm.
"Had you?" cried he, catching the same tone; "I honour you!" And therewas silence between them for a little while.
Anne could not immediately fall into a quotation again. The sweetscenes of autumn were for a while put by, unless some tender sonnet,fraught with the apt analogy of the declining year, with declininghappiness, and the images of youth and hope, and spring, all gonetogether, blessed her memory. She roused herself to say, as theystruck by order into another path, "Is not this one of the ways toWinthrop?" But nobody heard, or, at least, nobody answered her.
Winthrop, however, or its environs--for young men are, sometimes to bemet with, strolling about near home--was their destination; and afteranother half mile of gradual ascent through large enclosures, where theploughs at work, and the fresh made path spoke the farmer counteractingthe sweets of poetical despondence, and meaning to have spring again,they gained the summit of the most considerable hill, which partedUppercross and Winthrop, and soon commanded a full view of the latter,at the foot of the hill on the other side.
Winthrop, without beauty and without dignity, was stretched before them;an indifferent house, standing low, and hemmed in by the barns andbuildings of a farm-yard.
Mary exclaimed, "Bless me! here is Winthrop. I declare I had no idea!Well now, I think we had better turn back; I am excessively tired."
Henrietta, conscious and ashamed, and seeing no cousin Charles walkingalong any path, or leaning against any gate, was ready to do as Marywished; but "No!" said Charles Musgrove, and "No, no!" cried Louisamore eagerly, and taking her sister aside, seemed to be arguing thematter warmly.
Charles, in the meanwhile, was very decidedly declaring his resolutionof calling on his aunt, now that he was so near; and very evidently,though more fearfully, trying to induce his wife to go too. But thiswas one of the points on which the lady shewed her strength; and whenhe recommended the advantage of resting herself a quarter of an hour atWinthrop, as she felt so tired, she resolutely answered, "Oh! no,indeed! walking up that hill again would do her more harm than anysitting down could do her good;" and, in short, her look and mannerdeclared, that go she would not.
After a little succession of these sort of debates and consultations,it was settled between Charles and his two sisters, that he andHenrietta should just run down for a few minutes, to see their aunt andcousins, while the rest of the party waited for them at the top of thehill. Louisa seemed the principal arranger of the plan; and, as shew
ent a little way with them, down the hill, still talking to Henrietta,Mary took the opportunity of looking scornfully around her, and sayingto Captain Wentworth--
"It is very unpleasant, having such connexions! But, I assure you, Ihave never been in the house above twice in my life."
She received no other answer, than an artificial, assenting smile,followed by a contemptuous glance, as he turned away, which Anneperfectly knew the meaning of.
The brow of the hill, where they remained, was a cheerful spot: Louisareturned; and Mary, finding a comfortable seat for herself on the stepof a stile, was very well satisfied so long as the others all stoodabout her; but when Louisa drew Captain Wentworth away, to try for agleaning of nuts in an adjoining hedge-row, and they were gone bydegrees quite out of sight and sound, Mary was happy no longer; shequarrelled with her own seat, was sure Louisa had got a much bettersomewhere, and nothing could prevent her from going to look for abetter also. She turned through the same gate, but could not see them.Anne found a nice seat for her, on a dry sunny bank, under thehedge-row, in which she had no doubt of their still being, in some spotor other. Mary sat down for a moment, but it would not do; she wassure Louisa had found a better seat somewhere else, and she would go ontill she overtook her.
Anne, really tired herself, was glad to sit down; and she very soonheard Captain Wentworth and Louisa in the hedge-row, behind her, as ifmaking their way back along the rough, wild sort of channel, down thecentre. They were speaking as they drew near. Louisa's voice was thefirst distinguished. She seemed to be in the middle of some eagerspeech. What Anne first heard was--
"And so, I made her go. I could not bear that she should be frightenedfrom the visit by such nonsense. What! would I be turned back fromdoing a thing that I had determined to do, and that I knew to be right,by the airs and interference of such a person, or of any person I maysay? No, I have no idea of being so easily persuaded. When I havemade up my mind, I have made it; and Henrietta seemed entirely to havemade up hers to call at Winthrop to-day; and yet, she was as neargiving it up, out of nonsensical complaisance!"
"She would have turned back then, but for you?"
"She would indeed. I am almost ashamed to say it."
"Happy for her, to have such a mind as yours at hand! After the hintsyou gave just now, which did but confirm my own observations, the lasttime I was in company with him, I need not affect to have nocomprehension of what is going on. I see that more than a mere dutifulmorning visit to your aunt was in question; and woe betide him, and hertoo, when it comes to things of consequence, when they are placed incircumstances requiring fortitude and strength of mind, if she have notresolution enough to resist idle interference in such a trifle as this.Your sister is an amiable creature; but yours is the character ofdecision and firmness, I see. If you value her conduct or happiness,infuse as much of your own spirit into her as you can. But this, nodoubt, you have been always doing. It is the worst evil of tooyielding and indecisive a character, that no influence over it can bedepended on. You are never sure of a good impression being durable;everybody may sway it. Let those who would be happy be firm. Here isa nut," said he, catching one down from an upper bough, "to exemplify:a beautiful glossy nut, which, blessed with original strength, hasoutlived all the storms of autumn. Not a puncture, not a weak spotanywhere. This nut," he continued, with playful solemnity, "while somany of his brethren have fallen and been trodden under foot, is stillin possession of all the happiness that a hazel nut can be supposedcapable of." Then returning to his former earnest tone--"My firstwish for all whom I am interested in, is that they should be firm. IfLouisa Musgrove would be beautiful and happy in her November of life,she will cherish all her present powers of mind."
He had done, and was unanswered. It would have surprised Anne ifLouisa could have readily answered such a speech: words of suchinterest, spoken with such serious warmth! She could imagine whatLouisa was feeling. For herself, she feared to move, lest she shouldbe seen. While she remained, a bush of low rambling holly protectedher, and they were moving on. Before they were beyond her hearing,however, Louisa spoke again.
"Mary is good-natured enough in many respects," said she; "but she doessometimes provoke me excessively, by her nonsense and pride--the Elliotpride. She has a great deal too much of the Elliot pride. We do sowish that Charles had married Anne instead. I suppose you know hewanted to marry Anne?"
After a moment's pause, Captain Wentworth said--
"Do you mean that she refused him?"
"Oh! yes; certainly."
"When did that happen?"
"I do not exactly know, for Henrietta and I were at school at the time;but I believe about a year before he married Mary. I wish she hadaccepted him. We should all have liked her a great deal better; andpapa and mamma always think it was her great friend Lady Russell'sdoing, that she did not. They think Charles might not be learned andbookish enough to please Lady Russell, and that therefore, shepersuaded Anne to refuse him."
The sounds were retreating, and Anne distinguished no more. Her ownemotions still kept her fixed. She had much to recover from, beforeshe could move. The listener's proverbial fate was not absolutelyhers; she had heard no evil of herself, but she had heard a great dealof very painful import. She saw how her own character was consideredby Captain Wentworth, and there had been just that degree of feelingand curiosity about her in his manner which must give her extremeagitation.
As soon as she could, she went after Mary, and having found, and walkedback with her to their former station, by the stile, felt some comfortin their whole party being immediately afterwards collected, and oncemore in motion together. Her spirits wanted the solitude and silencewhich only numbers could give.
Charles and Henrietta returned, bringing, as may be conjectured,Charles Hayter with them. The minutiae of the business Anne could notattempt to understand; even Captain Wentworth did not seem admitted toperfect confidence here; but that there had been a withdrawing on thegentleman's side, and a relenting on the lady's, and that they were nowvery glad to be together again, did not admit a doubt. Henriettalooked a little ashamed, but very well pleased;--Charles Hayterexceedingly happy: and they were devoted to each other almost from thefirst instant of their all setting forward for Uppercross.
Everything now marked out Louisa for Captain Wentworth; nothing couldbe plainer; and where many divisions were necessary, or even where theywere not, they walked side by side nearly as much as the other two. Ina long strip of meadow land, where there was ample space for all, theywere thus divided, forming three distinct parties; and to that party ofthe three which boasted least animation, and least complaisance, Annenecessarily belonged. She joined Charles and Mary, and was tiredenough to be very glad of Charles's other arm; but Charles, though invery good humour with her, was out of temper with his wife. Mary hadshewn herself disobliging to him, and was now to reap the consequence,which consequence was his dropping her arm almost every moment to cutoff the heads of some nettles in the hedge with his switch; and whenMary began to complain of it, and lament her being ill-used, accordingto custom, in being on the hedge side, while Anne was never incommodedon the other, he dropped the arms of both to hunt after a weasel whichhe had a momentary glance of, and they could hardly get him along atall.
This long meadow bordered a lane, which their footpath, at the end ofit was to cross, and when the party had all reached the gate of exit,the carriage advancing in the same direction, which had been some timeheard, was just coming up, and proved to be Admiral Croft's gig. Heand his wife had taken their intended drive, and were returning home.Upon hearing how long a walk the young people had engaged in, theykindly offered a seat to any lady who might be particularly tired; itwould save her a full mile, and they were going through Uppercross.The invitation was general, and generally declined. The Miss Musgroveswere not at all tired, and Mary was either offended, by not being askedbefore any of the others, or what Louisa called the Elliot pride couldnot endure t
o make a third in a one horse chaise.
The walking party had crossed the lane, and were surmounting anopposite stile, and the Admiral was putting his horse in motion again,when Captain Wentworth cleared the hedge in a moment to say somethingto his sister. The something might be guessed by its effects.
"Miss Elliot, I am sure you are tired," cried Mrs Croft. "Do let ushave the pleasure of taking you home. Here is excellent room forthree, I assure you. If we were all like you, I believe we might sitfour. You must, indeed, you must."
Anne was still in the lane; and though instinctively beginning todecline, she was not allowed to proceed. The Admiral's kind urgencycame in support of his wife's; they would not be refused; theycompressed themselves into the smallest possible space to leave her acorner, and Captain Wentworth, without saying a word, turned to her,and quietly obliged her to be assisted into the carriage.
Yes; he had done it. She was in the carriage, and felt that he hadplaced her there, that his will and his hands had done it, that sheowed it to his perception of her fatigue, and his resolution to giveher rest. She was very much affected by the view of his dispositiontowards her, which all these things made apparent. This littlecircumstance seemed the completion of all that had gone before. Sheunderstood him. He could not forgive her, but he could not beunfeeling. Though condemning her for the past, and considering it withhigh and unjust resentment, though perfectly careless of her, andthough becoming attached to another, still he could not see her suffer,without the desire of giving her relief. It was a remainder of formersentiment; it was an impulse of pure, though unacknowledged friendship;it was a proof of his own warm and amiable heart, which she could notcontemplate without emotions so compounded of pleasure and pain, thatshe knew not which prevailed.
Her answers to the kindness and the remarks of her companions were atfirst unconsciously given. They had travelled half their way along therough lane, before she was quite awake to what they said. She thenfound them talking of "Frederick."
"He certainly means to have one or other of those two girls, Sophy,"said the Admiral; "but there is no saying which. He has been runningafter them, too, long enough, one would think, to make up his mind.Ay, this comes of the peace. If it were war now, he would have settledit long ago. We sailors, Miss Elliot, cannot afford to make longcourtships in time of war. How many days was it, my dear, between thefirst time of my seeing you and our sitting down together in ourlodgings at North Yarmouth?"
"We had better not talk about it, my dear," replied Mrs Croft,pleasantly; "for if Miss Elliot were to hear how soon we came to anunderstanding, she would never be persuaded that we could be happytogether. I had known you by character, however, long before."
"Well, and I had heard of you as a very pretty girl, and what were weto wait for besides? I do not like having such things so long in hand.I wish Frederick would spread a little more canvass, and bring us homeone of these young ladies to Kellynch. Then there would always becompany for them. And very nice young ladies they both are; I hardlyknow one from the other."
"Very good humoured, unaffected girls, indeed," said Mrs Croft, in atone of calmer praise, such as made Anne suspect that her keener powersmight not consider either of them as quite worthy of her brother; "anda very respectable family. One could not be connected with betterpeople. My dear Admiral, that post! we shall certainly take thatpost."
But by coolly giving the reins a better direction herself they happilypassed the danger; and by once afterwards judiciously putting out herhand they neither fell into a rut, nor ran foul of a dung-cart; andAnne, with some amusement at their style of driving, which she imaginedno bad representation of the general guidance of their affairs, foundherself safely deposited by them at the Cottage.