Chapter 10

by Jane Austen

　　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;for while she considered Louisa to be rather the favourite,she could not but think, as far as she might dare to judge from memoryand experience, that Captain Wentworth was not in love with either.They were more in love with him; yet there it was not love.It was a little fever of admiration; but it might, probably must,end in love with some. Charles Hayter seemed aware of being slighted,and yet Henrietta had sometimes the air of being divided between them.Anne longed for the power of representing to them all what they were about,and of pointing out some of the evils they were exposing themselves to.She did not attribute guile to any. It was the highest satisfactionto her to believe Captain Wentworth not in the least awareof the pain he was occasioning. There was no triumph, no pitiful triumphin his manner. He had, probably, never heard, and never thought ofany claims of Charles Hayter. He was only wrong in acceptingthe attentions (for accepting must be the word) of two young women at once.

　　After a short struggle, however, Charles Hayter seemed to quit the field.Three days had passed without his coming once to Uppercross;a most decided change. He had even refused one regular invitation to dinner;and having been found on the occasion by Mr Musgrove with some large booksbefore him, Mr and Mrs Musgrove were sure all could not be right,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 dependenceof seeing him to-morrow. Anne could only feel that Charles Hayterwas wise.

　　One morning, about this time Charles Musgrove and Captain Wentworthbeing gone a-shooting together, as the sisters in the Cottagewere sitting quietly at work, they were visited at the windowby the sisters from the Mansion-house.

　　It was a very fine November day, and the Miss Musgroves camethrough the little grounds, and stopped for no other purpose than to say,that they were going to take a long walk, and therefore concludedMary could not like to go with them; and when Mary immediately replied,with some jealousy at not being supposed a good walker, "Oh, yes,I should like to join you very much, I am very fond of a long walk;"Anne felt persuaded, by the looks of the two girls, that it was preciselywhat they did not wish, and admired again the sort of necessitywhich the family habits seemed to produce, of everything beingto be communicated, and everything being to be done together,however undesired and inconvenient. She tried to dissuade Mary from going,but in vain; and that being the case, thought it best to acceptthe Miss Musgroves' much more cordial invitation to herself to go likewise,as she might be useful in turning back with her sister, and lesseningthe interference in any plan of their own.

　　"I cannot imagine why they should suppose I should not like a long walk,"said Mary, as she went up stairs. "Everybody is always supposingthat I am not a good walker; and yet they would not have been pleased,if we had refused to join them. When people come in this manneron purpose to ask us, how can one say no?"

　　Just as they were setting off, the gentlemen returned. They had taken outa 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 Annehave foreseen such a junction, she would have staid at home; but,from some feelings of interest and curiosity, she fancied now that it wastoo late to retract, and the whole six set forward togetherin the direction chosen by the Miss Musgroves, who evidentlyconsidered the walk as under their guidance.

　　Anne's object was, not to be in the way of anybody; and wherethe narrow paths across the fields made many separations necessary,to keep with her brother and sister. Her pleasure in the walkmust arise from the exercise and the day, from the view ofthe last smiles of the year upon the tawny leaves, and withered hedges,and from repeating to herself some few of the thousand poeticaldescriptions extant of autumn, that season of peculiar andinexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness,that season which had drawn from every poet, worthy of being read,some attempt at description, or some lines of feeling.She occupied her mind as much as possible in such like musingsand 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 intimate footing,might fall into. He was more engaged with Louisa than with Henrietta.Louisa certainly put more forward for his notice than her sister.This distinction appeared to increase, and there was one speechof Louisa's which struck her. After one of the many praises of the day,which were continually bursting forth, Captain Wentworth added: --

　　"What glorious weather for the Admiral and my sister! They meant to takea long drive this morning; perhaps we may hail them fromsome of these hills. They talked of coming into this side of the country.I wonder whereabouts they will upset to-day. Oh! it does happenvery often, I assure you; but my sister makes nothing of it;she would as lieve 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 should everseparate us, and I would rather be overturned by him, than driven safelyby anybody else."

　　It was spoken with enthusiasm.

　　"Had you?" cried he, catching the same tone; "I honour you!"And there was silence between them for a little while.

　　Anne could not immediately fall into a quotation again. The sweet scenesof 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 gone together,blessed her memory. She roused herself to say, as they struck by orderinto another path, "Is not this one of the ways to Winthrop?"But nobody heard, or, at least, nobody answered her.

　　Winthrop, however, or its environs--for young men are, sometimesto be met with, strolling about near home--was their destination;and after another half mile of gradual ascent through large enclosures,where the ploughs at work, and the fresh made path spoke the farmercounteracting the sweets of poetical despondence, and meaningto have spring again, they gained the summit of the most considerable hill,which parted Uppercross and Winthrop, and soon commanded a full viewof the latter, at the foot of the hill on the other side.

　　Winthrop, without beauty and without dignity, was stretched before theman 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 Charleswalking along any path, or leaning against any gate, was readyto do as Mary wished; but "No!" said Charles Musgrove, and "No, no!"cried Louisa more eagerly, and taking her sister aside, seemed to bearguing the matter 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 this was one of the points on which the lady shewed her strength;and when he recommended the advantage of resting herself a quarterof an hour at Winthrop, as she felt so tired, she resolutely answered,"Oh! no, indeed! walking up that hill again would do her more harmthan any sitting down could do her good;" and, in short,her look and manner declared, 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 heand Henrietta should just run down for a few minutes, to see their auntand cousins, while the rest of the party waited for them at the topof the hill. Louisa seemed the principal arranger of the plan;and, as she went a little way with them, down the hill, still talkingto Henrietta, Mary took the opportunity of looking scornfully around her,and saying to Captain Wentworth--

　　"It is very unpleasant, having such connexions! But, I assure you,I have 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:Louisa returned; and Mary, finding a comfortable seat for herselfon the step of a stile, was very well satisfied so long as the othersall stood about her; but when Louisa drew Captain Wentworth away,to try for a gleaning of nuts in an adjoining hedge-row,and they were gone by degrees quite out of sight and sound,Mary was happy no longer; she quarrelled with her own seat,was sure Louisa had got a much better somewhere, and nothing couldprevent her from going to look for a better also. She turned throughthe same gate, but could not see them. Anne found a nice seatfor her, on a dry sunny bank, under the hedge-row, in whichshe had no doubt of their still being, in some spot or other.Mary sat down for a moment, but it would not do; she was sure Louisahad 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 soon heardCaptain 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 wasthe first distinguished. She seemed to be in the middle of someeager speech. 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 may say?No, I have no idea of being so easily persuaded. When I havemade up my mind, I have made it; and Henrietta seemed entirelyto have made 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 last time I was in company with him, I need not affectto have no comprehension of what is going on. I see that more thana mere dutiful morning visit to your aunt was in question;and woe betide him, and her too, when it comes to things of consequence,when they are placed in circumstances requiring fortitude andstrength of mind, if she have not resolution enough to resistidle interference in such a trifle as this. Your sister isan amiable creature; but yours is the character of decision and firmness,I see. If you value her conduct or happiness, infuse as muchof your own spirit into her as you can. But this, no doubt,you have been always doing. It is the worst evil of too yieldingand indecisive a character, that no influence over it can be depended on.You are never sure of a good impression being durable; everybodymay sway it. Let those who would be happy be firm. Here is a nut,"said he, catching one down from an upper bough. "to exemplify:a beautiful glossy nut, which, blessed with original strength,has outlived all the storms of autumn. Not a puncture, nota weak spot anywhere. This nut," he continued, with playful solemnity,"while so many of his brethren have fallen and been trodden under foot,is still in possession of all the happiness that a hazel nut can besupposed capable of." Then returning to his former earnest tone--"My first wish for all whom I am interested in, is that they should be firm.If Louisa 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 if Louisacould have readily answered such a speech: words of such interest,spoken with such serious warmth! She could imagine what Louisa was feeling.For herself, she feared to move, lest she should be seen.While she remained, a bush of low rambling holly protected her,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 does sometimes provoke me excessively, by her nonsenseand pride--the Elliot pride. She has a great deal too muchof the Elliot pride. We do so wish that Charles had married Anne instead.I suppose you know he wanted 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;and papa and mamma always think it was her great friendLady Russell's doing, that she did not. They think Charlesmight not be learned and bookish enough to please Lady Russell,and that therefore, she persuaded Anne to refuse him."

　　The sounds were retreating, and Anne distinguished no more.Her own emotions still kept her fixed. She had much to recover from,before she could move. The listener's proverbial fate wasnot absolutely hers; she had heard no evil of herself, but she had hearda great deal of very painful import. She saw how her own characterwas considered by Captain Wentworth, and there had been just that degreeof feeling and curiosity about her in his manner which must give herextreme agitation.

　　As soon as she could, she went after Mary, and having found,and walked back with her to their former station, by the stile,felt some comfort in their whole party being immediately afterwardscollected, and once more in motion together. Her spirits wantedthe solitude and silence which only numbers could give.

　　Charles and Henrietta returned, bringing, as may be conjectured,Charles Hayter with them. The minutiae of the business Annecould not attempt to understand; even Captain Wentworth did not seemadmitted to perfect confidence here; but that there had been a withdrawingon the gentleman's side, and a relenting on the lady's, and that theywere now very glad to be together again, did not admit a doubt.Henrietta looked a little ashamed, but very well pleased;--Charles Hayter exceedingly happy: and they were devoted to each otheralmost from the first instant of their all setting forward for Uppercross.

　　Everything now marked out Louisa for Captain Wentworth;nothing could be plainer; and where many divisions were necessary,or even where they were not, they walked side by side nearly as muchas the other two. In a long strip of meadow land, where there wasample space for all, they were thus divided, forming three distinct parties;and to that party of the three which boasted least animation,and least complaisance, Anne necessarily belonged. She joined Charlesand Mary, and was tired enough to be very glad of Charles's other arm;but Charles, though in very good humour with her, was out of temperwith his wife. Mary had shewn herself disobliging to him,and was now to reap the consequence, which consequence washis dropping her arm almost every moment to cut off the headsof some nettles in the hedge with his switch; and when Mary beganto complain of it, and lament her being ill-used, according to custom,in being on the hedge side, while Anne was never incommoded on the other,he dropped the arms of both to hunt after a weasel which he hada momentary glance of, and they could hardly get him along at all.

　　This long meadow bordered a lane, which their footpath, at the end of itwas to cross, and when the party had all reached the gate of exit,the carriage advancing in the same direction, which had beensome time heard, was just coming up, and proved to be Admiral Croft's gig.He and his wife had taken their intended drive, and were returning home.Upon hearing how long a walk the young people had engaged in,they kindly offered a seat to any lady who might be particularly tired;it would 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 pridecould not endure to 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 us have the pleasure of taking you home. Here is excellent roomfor three, I assure you. If we were all like you, I believe we mightsit four. You must, indeed, you must."

　　Anne was still in the lane; and though instinctively beginning to decline,she was not allowed to proceed. The Admiral's kind urgencycame in support of his wife's; they would not be refused;they compressed themselves into the smallest possible spaceto leave her a corner, 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 she owed it to his perception of her fatigue, and his resolutionto give her rest. She was very much affected by the view ofhis disposition towards her, which all these things made apparent.This little circumstance seemed the completion of all that had gone before.She understood him. He could not forgive her, but he could notbe unfeeling. Though condemning her for the past, and considering itwith high and unjust resentment, though perfectly careless of her,and though becoming attached to another, still he could not see her suffer,without the desire of giving her relief. It was a remainderof former sentiment; it was an impulse of pure, though unacknowledgedfriendship; it was a proof of his own warm and amiable heart,which she could not contemplate without emotions so compoundedof pleasure and pain, that she knew not which prevailed.

　　Her answers to the kindness and the remarks of her companionswere at first unconsciously given. They had travelled half their wayalong the rough lane, before she was quite awake to what they said.She then found 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 beenrunning after 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 havesettled it long ago. We sailors, Miss Elliot, cannot afford to makelong courtships in time of war. How many days was it, my dear,between the first time of my seeing you and our sitting down togetherin our lodgings 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 an understanding,she would never be persuaded that we could be happy together.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 alwaysbe company for them. And very nice young ladies they both are;I hardly know one from the other."

　　"Very good humoured, unaffected girls, indeed," said Mrs Croft,in a tone of calmer praise, such as made Anne suspect thather keener powers might not consider either of them as quite worthyof her brother; "and a very respectable family. One could not beconnected with better people. My dear Admiral, that post!we shall certainly take that post."

　　But by coolly giving the reins a better direction herself they happilypassed the danger; and by once afterwards judiciously putting outher hand they neither fell into a rut, nor ran foul of a dung-cart;and Anne, with some amusement at their style of driving,which she imagined no bad representation of the general guidanceof their affairs, found herself safely deposited by them at the Cottage.