by Jane Austen
Chapter 11
The time now approached for Lady Russell's return: the day was evenfixed; and Anne, being engaged to join her as soon as she wasresettled, was looking forward to an early removal to Kellynch, andbeginning to think how her own comfort was likely to be affected by it.
It would place her in the same village with Captain Wentworth, withinhalf a mile of him; they would have to frequent the same church, andthere must be intercourse between the two families. This was againsther; but on the other hand, he spent so much of his time at Uppercross,that in removing thence she might be considered rather as leaving himbehind, than as going towards him; and, upon the whole, she believedshe must, on this interesting question, be the gainer, almost ascertainly as in her change of domestic society, in leaving poor Maryfor Lady Russell.
She wished it might be possible for her to avoid ever seeing CaptainWentworth at the Hall: those rooms had witnessed former meetings whichwould be brought too painfully before her; but she was yet more anxiousfor the possibility of Lady Russell and Captain Wentworth never meetinganywhere. They did not like each other, and no renewal of acquaintancenow could do any good; and were Lady Russell to see them together, shemight think that he had too much self-possession, and she too little.
These points formed her chief solicitude in anticipating her removalfrom Uppercross, where she felt she had been stationed quite longenough. Her usefulness to little Charles would always give somesweetness to the memory of her two months' visit there, but he wasgaining strength apace, and she had nothing else to stay for.
The conclusion of her visit, however, was diversified in a way whichshe had not at all imagined. Captain Wentworth, after being unseen andunheard of at Uppercross for two whole days, appeared again among themto justify himself by a relation of what had kept him away.
A letter from his friend, Captain Harville, having found him out atlast, had brought intelligence of Captain Harville's being settled withhis family at Lyme for the winter; of their being therefore, quiteunknowingly, within twenty miles of each other. Captain Harville hadnever been in good health since a severe wound which he received twoyears before, and Captain Wentworth's anxiety to see him had determinedhim to go immediately to Lyme. He had been there for four-and-twentyhours. His acquittal was complete, his friendship warmly honoured, alively interest excited for his friend, and his description of the finecountry about Lyme so feelingly attended to by the party, that anearnest desire to see Lyme themselves, and a project for going thitherwas the consequence.
The young people were all wild to see Lyme. Captain Wentworth talkedof going there again himself, it was only seventeen miles fromUppercross; though November, the weather was by no means bad; and, inshort, Louisa, who was the most eager of the eager, having formed theresolution to go, and besides the pleasure of doing as she liked, beingnow armed with the idea of merit in maintaining her own way, bore downall the wishes of her father and mother for putting it off till summer;and to Lyme they were to go--Charles, Mary, Anne, Henrietta, Louisa,and Captain Wentworth.
The first heedless scheme had been to go in the morning and return atnight; but to this Mr Musgrove, for the sake of his horses, would notconsent; and when it came to be rationally considered, a day in themiddle of November would not leave much time for seeing a new place,after deducting seven hours, as the nature of the country required, forgoing and returning. They were, consequently, to stay the night there,and not to be expected back till the next day's dinner. This was feltto be a considerable amendment; and though they all met at the GreatHouse at rather an early breakfast hour, and set off very punctually,it was so much past noon before the two carriages, Mr Musgrove's coachcontaining the four ladies, and Charles's curricle, in which he droveCaptain Wentworth, were descending the long hill into Lyme, andentering upon the still steeper street of the town itself, that it wasvery evident they would not have more than time for looking about them,before the light and warmth of the day were gone.
After securing accommodations, and ordering a dinner at one of theinns, the next thing to be done was unquestionably to walk directlydown to the sea. They were come too late in the year for any amusementor variety which Lyme, as a public place, might offer. The rooms wereshut up, the lodgers almost all gone, scarcely any family but of theresidents left; and, as there is nothing to admire in the buildingsthemselves, the remarkable situation of the town, the principal streetalmost hurrying into the water, the walk to the Cobb, skirting roundthe pleasant little bay, which, in the season, is animated with bathingmachines and company; the Cobb itself, its old wonders and newimprovements, with the very beautiful line of cliffs stretching out tothe east of the town, are what the stranger's eye will seek; and a verystrange stranger it must be, who does not see charms in the immediateenvirons of Lyme, to make him wish to know it better. The scenes inits neighbourhood, Charmouth, with its high grounds and extensivesweeps of country, and still more, its sweet, retired bay, backed bydark cliffs, where fragments of low rock among the sands, make it thehappiest spot for watching the flow of the tide, for sitting inunwearied contemplation; the woody varieties of the cheerful village ofUp Lyme; and, above all, Pinny, with its green chasms between romanticrocks, where the scattered forest trees and orchards of luxuriantgrowth, declare that many a generation must have passed away since thefirst partial falling of the cliff prepared the ground for such astate, where a scene so wonderful and so lovely is exhibited, as maymore than equal any of the resembling scenes of the far-famed Isle ofWight: these places must be visited, and visited again, to make theworth of Lyme understood.
The party from Uppercross passing down by the now deserted andmelancholy looking rooms, and still descending, soon found themselveson the sea-shore; and lingering only, as all must linger and gaze on afirst return to the sea, who ever deserved to look on it at all,proceeded towards the Cobb, equally their object in itself and onCaptain Wentworth's account: for in a small house, near the foot of anold pier of unknown date, were the Harvilles settled. CaptainWentworth turned in to call on his friend; the others walked on, and hewas to join them on the Cobb.
They were by no means tired of wondering and admiring; and not evenLouisa seemed to feel that they had parted with Captain Wentworth long,when they saw him coming after them, with three companions, all wellknown already, by description, to be Captain and Mrs Harville, and aCaptain Benwick, who was staying with them.
Captain Benwick had some time ago been first lieutenant of the Laconia;and the account which Captain Wentworth had given of him, on his returnfrom Lyme before, his warm praise of him as an excellent young man andan officer, whom he had always valued highly, which must have stampedhim well in the esteem of every listener, had been followed by a littlehistory of his private life, which rendered him perfectly interestingin the eyes of all the ladies. He had been engaged to CaptainHarville's sister, and was now mourning her loss. They had been a yearor two waiting for fortune and promotion. Fortune came, hisprize-money as lieutenant being great; promotion, too, came at last;but Fanny Harville did not live to know it. She had died the precedingsummer while he was at sea. Captain Wentworth believed it impossiblefor man to be more attached to woman than poor Benwick had been toFanny Harville, or to be more deeply afflicted under the dreadfulchange. He considered his disposition as of the sort which must sufferheavily, uniting very strong feelings with quiet, serious, and retiringmanners, and a decided taste for reading, and sedentary pursuits. Tofinish the interest of the story, the friendship between him and theHarvilles seemed, if possible, augmented by the event which closed alltheir views of alliance, and Captain Benwick was now living with thementirely. Captain Harville had taken his present house for half ayear; his taste, and his health, and his fortune, all directing him toa residence inexpensive, and by the sea; and the grandeur of thecountry, and the retirement of Lyme in the winter, appeared exactlyadapted to Captain Benwick's state of mind. The sympathy and good-willexcited towards Captain Benwick was very great.
"And y
et," said Anne to herself, as they now moved forward to meet theparty, "he has not, perhaps, a more sorrowing heart than I have. Icannot believe his prospects so blighted for ever. He is younger thanI am; younger in feeling, if not in fact; younger as a man. He willrally again, and be happy with another."
They all met, and were introduced. Captain Harville was a tall, darkman, with a sensible, benevolent countenance; a little lame; and fromstrong features and want of health, looking much older than CaptainWentworth. Captain Benwick looked, and was, the youngest of the three,and, compared with either of them, a little man. He had a pleasingface and a melancholy air, just as he ought to have, and drew back fromconversation.
Captain Harville, though not equalling Captain Wentworth in manners,was a perfect gentleman, unaffected, warm, and obliging. Mrs Harville,a degree less polished than her husband, seemed, however, to have thesame good feelings; and nothing could be more pleasant than theirdesire of considering the whole party as friends of their own, becausethe friends of Captain Wentworth, or more kindly hospitable than theirentreaties for their all promising to dine with them. The dinner,already ordered at the inn, was at last, though unwillingly, acceptedas a excuse; but they seemed almost hurt that Captain Wentworth shouldhave brought any such party to Lyme, without considering it as a thingof course that they should dine with them.
There was so much attachment to Captain Wentworth in all this, and sucha bewitching charm in a degree of hospitality so uncommon, so unlikethe usual style of give-and-take invitations, and dinners of formalityand display, that Anne felt her spirits not likely to be benefited byan increasing acquaintance among his brother-officers. "These wouldhave been all my friends," was her thought; and she had to struggleagainst a great tendency to lowness.
On quitting the Cobb, they all went in-doors with their new friends,and found rooms so small as none but those who invite from the heartcould think capable of accommodating so many. Anne had a moment'sastonishment on the subject herself; but it was soon lost in thepleasanter feelings which sprang from the sight of all the ingeniouscontrivances and nice arrangements of Captain Harville, to turn theactual space to the best account, to supply the deficiencies oflodging-house furniture, and defend the windows and doors against thewinter storms to be expected. The varieties in the fitting-up of therooms, where the common necessaries provided by the owner, in thecommon indifferent plight, were contrasted with some few articles of arare species of wood, excellently worked up, and with something curiousand valuable from all the distant countries Captain Harville hadvisited, were more than amusing to Anne; connected as it all was withhis profession, the fruit of its labours, the effect of its influenceon his habits, the picture of repose and domestic happiness itpresented, made it to her a something more, or less, than gratification.
Captain Harville was no reader; but he had contrived excellentaccommodations, and fashioned very pretty shelves, for a tolerablecollection of well-bound volumes, the property of Captain Benwick. Hislameness prevented him from taking much exercise; but a mind ofusefulness and ingenuity seemed to furnish him with constant employmentwithin. He drew, he varnished, he carpentered, he glued; he made toysfor the children; he fashioned new netting-needles and pins withimprovements; and if everything else was done, sat down to his largefishing-net at one corner of the room.
Anne thought she left great happiness behind her when they quitted thehouse; and Louisa, by whom she found herself walking, burst forth intoraptures of admiration and delight on the character of the navy; theirfriendliness, their brotherliness, their openness, their uprightness;protesting that she was convinced of sailors having more worth andwarmth than any other set of men in England; that they only knew how tolive, and they only deserved to be respected and loved.
They went back to dress and dine; and so well had the scheme answeredalready, that nothing was found amiss; though its being "so entirelyout of season," and the "no thoroughfare of Lyme," and the "noexpectation of company," had brought many apologies from the heads ofthe inn.
Anne found herself by this time growing so much more hardened to beingin Captain Wentworth's company than she had at first imagined couldever be, that the sitting down to the same table with him now, and theinterchange of the common civilities attending on it (they never gotbeyond), was become a mere nothing.
The nights were too dark for the ladies to meet again till the morrow,but Captain Harville had promised them a visit in the evening; and hecame, bringing his friend also, which was more than had been expected,it having been agreed that Captain Benwick had all the appearance ofbeing oppressed by the presence of so many strangers. He venturedamong them again, however, though his spirits certainly did not seemfit for the mirth of the party in general.
While Captains Wentworth and Harville led the talk on one side of theroom, and by recurring to former days, supplied anecdotes in abundanceto occupy and entertain the others, it fell to Anne's lot to be placedrather apart with Captain Benwick; and a very good impulse of hernature obliged her to begin an acquaintance with him. He was shy, anddisposed to abstraction; but the engaging mildness of her countenance,and gentleness of her manners, soon had their effect; and Anne was wellrepaid the first trouble of exertion. He was evidently a young man ofconsiderable taste in reading, though principally in poetry; andbesides the persuasion of having given him at least an evening'sindulgence in the discussion of subjects, which his usual companionshad probably no concern in, she had the hope of being of real use tohim in some suggestions as to the duty and benefit of strugglingagainst affliction, which had naturally grown out of theirconversation. For, though shy, he did not seem reserved; it had ratherthe appearance of feelings glad to burst their usual restraints; andhaving talked of poetry, the richness of the present age, and gonethrough a brief comparison of opinion as to the first-rate poets,trying to ascertain whether Marmion or The Lady of the Lake were to bepreferred, and how ranked the Giaour and The Bride of Abydos; andmoreover, how the Giaour was to be pronounced, he showed himself sointimately acquainted with all the tenderest songs of the one poet, andall the impassioned descriptions of hopeless agony of the other; herepeated, with such tremulous feeling, the various lines which imaged abroken heart, or a mind destroyed by wretchedness, and looked soentirely as if he meant to be understood, that she ventured to hope hedid not always read only poetry, and to say, that she thought it wasthe misfortune of poetry to be seldom safely enjoyed by those whoenjoyed it completely; and that the strong feelings which alone couldestimate it truly were the very feelings which ought to taste it butsparingly.
His looks shewing him not pained, but pleased with this allusion to hissituation, she was emboldened to go on; and feeling in herself theright of seniority of mind, she ventured to recommend a largerallowance of prose in his daily study; and on being requested toparticularize, mentioned such works of our best moralists, suchcollections of the finest letters, such memoirs of characters of worthand suffering, as occurred to her at the moment as calculated to rouseand fortify the mind by the highest precepts, and the strongestexamples of moral and religious endurances.
Captain Benwick listened attentively, and seemed grateful for theinterest implied; and though with a shake of the head, and sighs whichdeclared his little faith in the efficacy of any books on grief likehis, noted down the names of those she recommended, and promised toprocure and read them.
When the evening was over, Anne could not but be amused at the idea ofher coming to Lyme to preach patience and resignation to a young manwhom she had never seen before; nor could she help fearing, on moreserious reflection, that, like many other great moralists andpreachers, she had been eloquent on a point in which her own conductwould ill bear examination.