บทที่ บทที่ 16 · There was one point which Anne, on returning to her family, would have

. There was one point which Anne, on returning to her family, would have

been more thankful to ascertain even than Mr Elliot’s being in love

with Elizabeth, which was, her father’s not being in love with Mrs

Clay; and she was very far from easy about it, when she had been at

home a few hours. On going down to breakfast the next morning, she

found there had just been a decent pretence on the lady’s side of

meaning to leave them. She could imagine Mrs Clay to have said, that

“now Miss Anne was come, she could not suppose herself at all wanted;”

for Elizabeth was replying in a sort of whisper, “That must not be any

reason, indeed. I assure you I feel it none. She is nothing to me,

compared with you;” and she was in full time to hear her father say,

“My dear madam, this must not be. As yet, you have seen nothing of

Bath. You have been here only to be useful. You must not run away from

us now. You must stay to be acquainted with Mrs Wallis, the beautiful

Mrs Wallis. To your fine mind, I well know the sight of beauty is a

real gratification.”

He spoke and looked so much in earnest, that Anne was not surprised to

see Mrs Clay stealing a glance at Elizabeth and herself. Her

countenance, perhaps, might express some watchfulness; but the praise

of the fine mind did not appear to excite a thought in her sister. The

lady could not but yield to such joint entreaties, and promise to stay.

In the course of the same morning, Anne and her father chancing to be

alone together, he began to compliment her on her improved looks; he

thought her “less thin in her person, in her cheeks; her skin, her

complexion, greatly improved; clearer, fresher. Had she been using any

thing in particular?” “No, nothing.” “Merely Gowland,” he supposed.

“No, nothing at all.” “Ha! he was surprised at that;” and added,

“certainly you cannot do better than to continue as you are; you cannot

be better than well; or I should recommend Gowland, the constant use of

Gowland, during the spring months. Mrs Clay has been using it at my

recommendation, and you see what it has done for her. You see how it

has carried away her freckles.”

If Elizabeth could but have heard this! Such personal praise might have

struck her, especially as it did not appear to Anne that the freckles

were at all lessened. But everything must take its chance. The evil of

a marriage would be much diminished, if Elizabeth were also to marry.

As for herself, she might always command a home with Lady Russell.

Lady Russell’s composed mind and polite manners were put to some trial

on this point, in her intercourse in Camden Place. The sight of Mrs

Clay in such favour, and of Anne so overlooked, was a perpetual

provocation to her there; and vexed her as much when she was away, as a

person in Bath who drinks the water, gets all the new publications, and

has a very large acquaintance, has time to be vexed.

As Mr Elliot became known to her, she grew more charitable, or more

indifferent, towards the others. His manners were an immediate

recommendation; and on conversing with him she found the solid so fully

supporting the superficial, that she was at first, as she told Anne,

almost ready to exclaim, “Can this be Mr Elliot?” and could not

seriously picture to herself a more agreeable or estimable man.

Everything united in him; good understanding, correct opinions,

knowledge of the world, and a warm heart. He had strong feelings of

family attachment and family honour, without pride or weakness; he

lived with the liberality of a man of fortune, without display; he

judged for himself in everything essential, without defying public

opinion in any point of worldly decorum. He was steady, observant,

moderate, candid; never run away with by spirits or by selfishness,

which fancied itself strong feeling; and yet, with a sensibility to

what was amiable and lovely, and a value for all the felicities of

domestic life, which characters of fancied enthusiasm and violent

agitation seldom really possess. She was sure that he had not been

happy in marriage. Colonel Wallis said it, and Lady Russell saw it; but

it had been no unhappiness to sour his mind, nor (she began pretty soon

to suspect) to prevent his thinking of a second choice. Her

satisfaction in Mr Elliot outweighed all the plague of Mrs Clay.

It was now some years since Anne had begun to learn that she and her

excellent friend could sometimes think differently; and it did not

surprise her, therefore, that Lady Russell should see nothing

suspicious or inconsistent, nothing to require more motives than

appeared, in Mr Elliot’s great desire of a reconciliation. In Lady

Russell’s view, it was perfectly natural that Mr Elliot, at a mature

time of life, should feel it a most desirable object, and what would

very generally recommend him among all sensible people, to be on good

terms with the head of his family; the simplest process in the world of

time upon a head naturally clear, and only erring in the heyday of

youth. Anne presumed, however, still to smile about it, and at last to

mention “Elizabeth.” Lady Russell listened, and looked, and made only

this cautious reply:—“Elizabeth! very well; time will explain.”

It was a reference to the future, which Anne, after a little

observation, felt she must submit to. She could determine nothing at

present. In that house Elizabeth must be first; and she was in the

habit of such general observance as “Miss Elliot,” that any

particularity of attention seemed almost impossible. Mr Elliot, too, it

must be remembered, had not been a widower seven months. A little delay

on his side might be very excusable. In fact, Anne could never see the

crape round his hat, without fearing that she was the inexcusable one,

in attributing to him such imaginations; for though his marriage had

not been very happy, still it had existed so many years that she could

not comprehend a very rapid recovery from the awful impression of its

being dissolved.

However it might end, he was without any question their pleasantest

acquaintance in Bath: she saw nobody equal to him; and it was a great

indulgence now and then to talk to him about Lyme, which he seemed to

have as lively a wish to see again, and to see more of, as herself.

They went through the particulars of their first meeting a great many

times. He gave her to understand that he had looked at her with some

earnestness. She knew it well; and she remembered another person’s look

also.

They did not always think alike. His value for rank and connexion she

perceived was greater than hers. It was not merely complaisance, it

must be a liking to the cause, which made him enter warmly into her

father and sister’s solicitudes on a subject which she thought unworthy

to excite them. The Bath paper one morning announced the arrival of the

Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple, and her daughter, the Honourable Miss

Carteret; and all the comfort of No. —, Camden Place, was swept away

for many days; for the Dalrymples (in Anne’s opinion, most

unfortunately) were cousins of the Elliots; and the agony was how to

introduce themselves properly.

Anne had never seen her father and sister before in contact with

nobility, and she must acknowledge herself disappointed. She had hoped

better things from their high ideas of their own situation in life, and

was reduced to form a wish which she had never foreseen; a wish that

they had more pride; for “our cousins Lady Dalrymple and Miss

Carteret;” “our cousins, the Dalrymples,” sounded in her ears all day

long.

Sir Walter had once been in company with the late viscount, but had

never seen any of the rest of the family; and the difficulties of the

case arose from there having been a suspension of all intercourse by

letters of ceremony, ever since the death of that said late viscount,

when, in consequence of a dangerous illness of Sir Walter’s at the same

time, there had been an unlucky omission at Kellynch. No letter of

condolence had been sent to Ireland. The neglect had been visited on

the head of the sinner; for when poor Lady Elliot died herself, no

letter of condolence was received at Kellynch, and, consequently, there

was but too much reason to apprehend that the Dalrymples considered the

relationship as closed. How to have this anxious business set to

rights, and be admitted as cousins again, was the question: and it was

a question which, in a more rational manner, neither Lady Russell nor

Mr Elliot thought unimportant. “Family connexions were always worth

preserving, good company always worth seeking; Lady Dalrymple had taken

a house, for three months, in Laura Place, and would be living in

style. She had been at Bath the year before, and Lady Russell had heard

her spoken of as a charming woman. It was very desirable that the

connexion should be renewed, if it could be done, without any

compromise of propriety on the side of the Elliots.”

Sir Walter, however, would choose his own means, and at last wrote a

very fine letter of ample explanation, regret, and entreaty, to his

right honourable cousin. Neither Lady Russell nor Mr Elliot could

admire the letter; but it did all that was wanted, in bringing three

lines of scrawl from the Dowager Viscountess. “She was very much

honoured, and should be happy in their acquaintance.” The toils of the

business were over, the sweets began. They visited in Laura Place, they

had the cards of Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple, and the Honourable Miss

Carteret, to be arranged wherever they might be most visible: and “Our

cousins in Laura Place,”—“Our cousin, Lady Dalrymple and Miss

Carteret,” were talked of to everybody.

Anne was ashamed. Had Lady Dalrymple and her daughter even been very

agreeable, she would still have been ashamed of the agitation they

created, but they were nothing. There was no superiority of manner,

accomplishment, or understanding. Lady Dalrymple had acquired the name

of “a charming woman,” because she had a smile and a civil answer for

everybody. Miss Carteret, with still less to say, was so plain and so

awkward, that she would never have been tolerated in Camden Place but

for her birth.

Lady Russell confessed she had expected something better; but yet “it

was an acquaintance worth having;” and when Anne ventured to speak her

opinion of them to Mr Elliot, he agreed to their being nothing in

themselves, but still maintained that, as a family connexion, as good

company, as those who would collect good company around them, they had

their value. Anne smiled and said,

“My idea of good company, Mr Elliot, is the company of clever,

well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation; that is

what I call good company.”

“You are mistaken,” said he gently, “that is not good company; that is

the best. Good company requires only birth, education, and manners, and

with regard to education is not very nice. Birth and good manners are

essential; but a little learning is by no means a dangerous thing in

good company; on the contrary, it will do very well. My cousin Anne

shakes her head. She is not satisfied. She is fastidious. My dear

cousin” (sitting down by her), “you have a better right to be

fastidious than almost any other woman I know; but will it answer? Will

it make you happy? Will it not be wiser to accept the society of those

good ladies in Laura Place, and enjoy all the advantages of the

connexion as far as possible? You may depend upon it, that they will

move in the first set in Bath this winter, and as rank is rank, your

being known to be related to them will have its use in fixing your

family (our family let me say) in that degree of consideration which we

must all wish for.”

“Yes,” sighed Anne, “we shall, indeed, be known to be related to them!”

then recollecting herself, and not wishing to be answered, she added,

“I certainly do think there has been by far too much trouble taken to

procure the acquaintance. I suppose” (smiling) “I have more pride than

any of you; but I confess it does vex me, that we should be so

solicitous to have the relationship acknowledged, which we may be very

sure is a matter of perfect indifference to them.”

“Pardon me, dear cousin, you are unjust in your own claims. In London,

perhaps, in your present quiet style of living, it might be as you say:

but in Bath; Sir Walter Elliot and his family will always be worth

knowing: always acceptable as acquaintance.”

“Well,” said Anne, “I certainly am proud, too proud to enjoy a welcome

which depends so entirely upon place.”

“I love your indignation,” said he; “it is very natural. But here you

are in Bath, and the object is to be established here with all the

credit and dignity which ought to belong to Sir Walter Elliot. You talk

of being proud; I am called proud, I know, and I shall not wish to

believe myself otherwise; for our pride, if investigated, would have

the same object, I have no doubt, though the kind may seem a little

different. In one point, I am sure, my dear cousin,” (he continued,

speaking lower, though there was no one else in the room) “in one

point, I am sure, we must feel alike. We must feel that every addition

to your father’s society, among his equals or superiors, may be of use

in diverting his thoughts from those who are beneath him.”

He looked, as he spoke, to the seat which Mrs Clay had been lately

occupying: a sufficient explanation of what he particularly meant; and

though Anne could not believe in their having the same sort of pride,

she was pleased with him for not liking Mrs Clay; and her conscience

admitted that his wishing to promote her father’s getting great

acquaintance was more than excusable in the view of defeating her.