have not seen one of them to-day, except Mr. Musgrove, who just stopped and spoke through the window, but without getting off his horse; and though I told him how ill I was, not one of them have been near me. It did not happen to suit the Miss Musgroves, I suppose, and they never put themselves out of their way." "You will see them yet, perhaps, before the morning is gone. It is early." "I never want them, I assure you. They talk and laugh a great deal too much for me. Oh! Anne, I am so very unwell. It was quite unkind of you not to come on Thursday.' "My dear Mary, recollect what a comfortable account you sent me of yourself! You wrote in the cheerfullest manner, and said you were perfectly well, and in no hurry for me; and that being the case, you must be aware that my wish would be to remain with Lady Russell to the last: and besides what I felt on her account, I have really been so busy, have had so much to do, that I could not very conveniently have left Kellynch sooner." Mrs. Musgrove took me, and we were so crowded! They are both so very large, and take up so much room; and Mr. Musgrove always sits forward. So there was I crowded into the back seat with Henrietta and Louisa; and I think it very likely that my illness today may be owing to it." A little farther perseverance in patience and forced cheerfulness on Anne's side produced nearly a cure on Mary's. She could soon sit upright on the sofa, and began to hope she might be able to leave it by dinner-time. Then, forgetting to think of it, she was at the other end of the room, beautifying a nosegay: then she ate her cold meat; and then she was well enough to propose a little walk. Where shall we go?" said she when they were ready. "I suppose you will not like to call at the Great House before they have been to see you?" "I have not the smallest objection on that account," replied Anne. "I should never think of standing on such ceremony with "Dear me! what can you possibly have had people I know so well as Mrs. and the Miss to do?" Musgroves." "A great many things, I assure you. More than I can recollect in a moment; but I can tell you some. I have been making a dupli- | cate of the catalogue of my father's books and pictures. I have been several times in the garden with Mackenzie, trying to understand, and make him understand, which of Elizabeth's plants are for Lady Russell. I have had all my own little concerns to arrange, books and music to divide, and all my trunks to repack, from not having understood in time what was intended as to the waggons: and one thing I have had to do, Mary, of a more trying nature: going to almost every house in the parish, as a sort of take-leave. I was told that they wished it; but all these things took up a great deal of time." "Oh, well!" and after a moment's pause, "but you have never asked me one word about our dinner at the Pooles' yesterday." "Did you go, then? I have made no inquiries, because I concluded you must have been obliged to give up the party." "Oh yes! I went. I was very well yesterday: nothing at all the matter with me till this morning. It would have been strange if I had not gone." “I am very glad you were well enough, and I hope you had a pleasant party." 'Nothing remarkable. One always knows beforehand what the dinner will be, and who will be there; and it is so very uncomfortable not having a carriage of one's own. Mr. and "Oh! but they ought to call upon you as soon as possible. They ought to feel what is due to you as my sister. However, we may as well go and sit with them a little while, and when we have got that over we can enjoy our walk." Anne had always thought such a style of intercourse highly imprudent; but she had ceased to endeavour to check it, from believing that, though there were on each side continual subjects of offence, neither family could now do without it. To the Great House accordingly they went, to sit the full half hour in the old-fashioned square parlour, with a small carpet and shining floor, to which the present daughters of the house were gradually giving the proper air of confusion by a grand pianoforte and a harp, flower-stands, and little tables placed in every direction. Oh! could the originals of the portraits against the wains cot, could the gentlemen in brown velvet and the ladies in blue satin have seen what was going on, have been conscious of such an overthrow of all order and neatness! The portraits themselves seemed to be staring in astonishment. ren had more modern minds and manners. There was a numerous family; but the only two grown up, excepting Charles, were Henrietta and Louisa, young ladies of nineteen and twenty, who had brought from a school at Exeter all the usual stock of accomplishments, and were now, like thousands of other young ladies, living to be fashionable, happy, and merry. Their dress had every advantage, their faces were rather pretty, their spirits extremely good, their manners unembarrassed and pleasant; they were of consequence at home, and favourites abroad. Anne always contemplated them as some of the happiest creatures of her acquaintance: but still, saved as we all are, by some comfortable feeling of superiority from wishing for the possibility of exchange, she would not have given up her own more elegant and cultivated mind for all their enjoyments; and envied them nothing but that seemingly perfect good understanding and agreement together, that good-humoured mutual affection, of which she had known so little herself with either of her sisters. They were received with great cordiality. Nothing seemed amiss on the side of the Great House family, which was generally, as Anne very well knew, the last to blame. The half hour was chatted away pleasantly enough; and she was not at all surprised, at the end of it, to have their walking party joined by both the Miss Musgroves, at Mary's particular invitation. in the young ladies' addition of, "I hope we shall be in Bath in the winter; but remember, papa, if we do go, we must be in a good situation: none of your Queen Squares for us!" or in the anxious supplement from Mary, of"Upon my word, I shall be pretty well off, when you are all gone away to be happy at Bath!" She could only resolve to avoid such selfdelusion in future, and think with heightened gratitude of the extraordinary blessing of having one such truly sympathizing friend as Lady Russell. The Mr. Musgroves had their own game to guard and to destroy, their own horses, dogs, and newspapers to engage them, and the fe males were fully occupied in all the other common subjects of housekeeping, neighbours, dress, dancing, and music. She acknowledged it to be very fitting that every little social commonwealth should dictate its own matters of discourse; and hoped, ere long, to become a not unworthy member of the one she was now transplanted into. With the prospect of spending at least two months at Uppercross, it was highly incumbent on her to clothe her imagination, her memory, and all her ideas in as much of Uppercross as possible. She had no dread of these two months. Mary was not so repulsive and unsisterly as Eliza beth, nor so inaccessible to all influence of hers; neither was there anything among the other component parts of the cottage inimical to comfort. She was always on friendly terms with her brother-in-law; and in the children, who loved her nearly as well, and respected her a great deal more than their mother, she had an object of interest, amusement, and wholesome exertion. Anne had not wanted this visit to Uppercross to learn that a removal from one set of people to another, though at a distance of only three miles, will often include a total change of conversation, opinion, and idea. She had never been staying there before without being struck by it, or without wishing that other Charles Musgrove was civil and agreeable; Elliots could have her advantage in seeing how in sense and temper he was undoubtedly sa unknown, or unconsidered there, were the perior to his wife, but not of powers, or conaffairs which at Kellynch Hall were treated as versation, or grace to make the past, as they of such general publicity and pervading in- were connected together, at all a dangerous terest; yet, with all this experience, she be- contemplation; though, at the same time, lieved she must now submit to feel that another Anne could believe, with Lady Russell, that a lesson in the art of knowing our own nothing more equal match might have greatly improved ness beyond our own circle, was become neces- him; and that a woman of real understanding sary for her; for certainly, coming as she did, might have given more consequence to his with a heart full of the subject which had character, and more usefulness, rationality, been completely occupying both houses in and elegance to his habits and pursuits. As Kellynch for many weeks, she had expected it was, he did nothing with much zeal, but rather more curiosity and sympathy than she sport; and his time was otherwise trifled away, found in the separate but very similar remarks without benefit from books or anything else. of Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove: So, Miss Anne, He had very good spirits, which never seemed Sir Walter and your sister are gone; what part much affected by his wife's occasional lowness, of Bath do you think they will settle in?" and bore with her unreasonableness sometimes to this without much waiting for an answer; or Anne's admiration, and upon the whole, though there was very often a little disagreement (in | I assure you, Miss Anne, it prevents my wishwhich she had sometimes more share than she ing to see them at our house so often as I wished, being appealed to by both parties), otherwise should. I believe Mrs. Charles is they might pass for a happy couple. They not quite pleased with my not inviting them were always perfectly agreed in the want of oftener; but you know it is very bad to have more money, and a strong inclination for a children with one that one is obliged to be handsome present from his father; but here, checking every moment; 'don't do this,' and as on most topics, he had the superiority, for 'don't do that;' or that one can only keep while Mary thought it a great shame that in tolerable order by more cake than is good such a present was not made, he always con- for them.' tended for his father's having many other uses for his money, and a right to spend it as he liked. As to the management of their children, his theory was much better than his wife's, and his practice not so bad. "I could manage them very well, if it were not for Mary's interference," was what Anne often heard him say, and had a good deal of faith in; but when listening in turn to Mary's reproach of, "Charles spoils the children so that I cannot get them into any order," she never had the smallest temptation to say, "Very true." One of the least agreeable circumstances of her residence there was her being treated with too much confidence by all parties, and being too much in the secret of the complaints of each house. Known to have some influence with her sister, she was continually requested, or at least receiving hints to exert it, beyond what was practicable. "I wish you could persuade Mary not to be always fancying herself ill," was Charles' language; and, in an unhappy mood, thus spoke Mary: "I do believe if Charles were to see me dying, he would not think there was anything the matter with me. I am sure, Anne, if you would, you might persuade him that I really am very ill-a great deal worse than I ever own. Mary's declaration was, "I hate sending the children to the Great House, though their grandmamma is always wanting to see them, for she humours and indulges them to such a degree, and gives them so much trash and sweet things, that they are sure to come back sick and cross for the rest of the day." And Mrs. Musgrove took the first opportunity of being alone with Anne to say, "Oh! Miss Anne, I cannot help wishing Mrs. Charles had a little of your method with those children. They are quite different creatures with you! But to be sure, in general, they are so spoiled! It is a pity you cannot put your sister in the way of managing them. They are as fine healthy children as ever were seen, poor little dears! without partiality; but Mrs. Charles knows no more how they should be treated-! Bless me! how troublesome they are sometimes. She had this communication, moreover, from Mary:-" Mrs. Musgrove thinks all her servants so steady, that it would be high treason to call it in question; but I am sure, without exaggeration, that her upper housemaid and laundrymaid, instead of being in their business, are gadding about the village all day long. I meet them wherever I go; and I declare I never go twice into my nursery without seeing something of them. If Jemima were not the trustiest, steadiest creature in the world, it would be enough to spoil her; for she tells me they are always tempting her to take a walk with them." And on Mrs. Musgrove's side it was, "I make a rule of never interfering in any of my daughter-in-law's concerns, for I know it would not do; but I shall tell you, Miss Anne, because you may be able to set things to rights, that I have no very good opinion of Mrs. Charles' nurserymaid: I hear strange stories of her; she is always upon the gad; and from my own knowledge I can declare, she is such a finedressing lady, that she is enough to ruin any servants she comes near. Mrs. Charles quite swears by her, I know; but I just give you this hint, that you may be upon the watch; because if you see anything amiss, you need not be afraid of mentioning it." Again, it was Mary's complaint that Mrs. Musgrove was very apt not to give her the precedence that was her due, when they dined at the Great House with other families, and she did not see any reason why she was to be considered so much at home as to lose her place. And one day, when Anne was walking with only the Miss Musgroves, one of them, after talking of rank, people of rank, and jealousy of rank, said, "I have no scruple of observing to you how nonsensical some persons are about their place, because all the world knows how easy and indifferent you are about it; but I wish anybody would give Mary a hint that it would be a great deal better if she were not so very tenacious, especially if she would not be always putting herself forward to take place of mamma. Nobody doubts her right to have precedence of mamma, but it would be more becoming in her not to be always in- | within a walk of Uppercross, in less affluent sisting on it. It is not that mamma cares circumstances, who depended on the Musgroves about it the least in the world, but I know it for all their pleasures: they would come at any is taken notice of by many persons." time, or help to play at anything, or dance anywhere; and Anne, very much preferring the office of musician to a more active post, played country-dances to them by the hour together; a kindness which always recommended her musical powers to the notice of Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove more than anything else, and often drew this compliment,-"Well done, Miss Anne! very well done, indeed! Lord bless me! how those little fingers of yours fly about!" How was Anne to set all these matters to rights? She could do little more than listen patiently, soften every grievance, and excuse each to the other; give them all hints of the forbearance necessary between such near neighbours, and make those hints broadest which were meant for her sister's benefit. In all other respects her visit began and proceeded very well. Her own spirits improved by change of place and subject, by being removed three miles from Kellynch; Mary's ailments lessened by having a constant companion, and their daily intercourse with the other family, since there was neither superior affection, confidence, nor employment in the cottage to be interrupted by it, was rather an advantage. It was certainly carried nearly as far as possible, for they met every morning, and hardly ever spent an evening asunder; but she believed they should not have done so well without the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove's respectable forms in the usual places, or without the talking, laughing, and singing of their daughters. She played a great deal better than either of the Miss Musgroves, but having no voice, no knowledge of the harp, and no fond parents, to sit by and fancy themselves delighted, her performance was little thought of, only out of civility, or to refresh the others, as she was well aware. She knew that when she played she was giving pleasure only to herself; but this was no new sensation. Excepting one short period of her life, she had never, since the age of fourteen, never since the loss of her dear mother, known the happiness of being listened to, or encouraged by any just appreciation or real taste. In music she had been always used to feel alone in the world; and Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove's fond partiality for their own daughters' performance, and total indifference to any other person's, gave her much more pleasure for their sakes, than mortification for her own. The party at the Great House was sometimes increased by other company. The neighbourhood was not large, but the Musgroves were visited by everybody, and had more dinnerparties, and more callers, more visitors by invitation and by chance, than any other family. They were more completely popular. The girls were wild for dancing; and the evenings ended, occasionally, in an unpremeditated little ball. There was a family of cousins [Captain Wentworth prospered, and during Anne's visit to Uppercross he comes to visit his brother-in-law Admiral Crofts. Then there is a game at cross-purposes between the lovers; he thinks she is to marry a wealthy cousin, and she thinks he is to ask Louisa Musgrove to be his wife. But Louisa is suddenly announced as the betrothed of Captain Benwick, a sentimental gentleman, who in this way consoles himself for the death of Miss Harville, the lady to whom he had been formerly engaged, and the misunderstandings are brought right in this way.] Captain Harville (the brother of Benwick's old love) moved to a window, and Anne, seeming to watch him, though it was from thorough absence of mind, became gradually sensible that he was inviting her to join him where he stood. He looked at her with a smile, and a little motion of the head, which expressed, "Come to me, I have something to say;" and the unaffected, easy kindness of manner which denoted the feelings of an older acquaintance than he really was, strongly enforced the invitation. She roused herself and went to him. The window at which he stood was at the other end of the room from where the two ladies were sitting, and though nearer to Captain Wentworth's table, not very near. As she joined him, Captain Harville's countenance reassumed the serious, thoughtful expression which seemed its natural character. "Look here," said he, unfolding a parcel in his hand, and displaying a small miniature painting: "do you know who that is?" "Certainly: Captain Benwick." Yes, and you may guess who it is for. But," in a deep tone, "it was not done for her. Miss Elliot, do you remember our walking together at Lyme, and grieving for him? I little thought then-but no matter. This was drawn at the Cape. He met with a clever young German artist at the Cape, and in com pliance with a promise to my poor sister, sat to him, and was bringing it home for her; and I have now the charge of getting it properly set for another! It was a commission to me! But who else was there to employ? I hope I can allow for him. I am not sorry, indeed, to make it over to another. He undertakes it;" looking towards Captain Wentworth, "he is writing about it now." And with a quivering lip he wound up the whole by adding, "Poor Fanny! she would not have forgotten him so soon. "No," replied Anne, in a feeling voice, "that I can easily believe." "It was not in her nature. She doted on him." "It would not be the nature of any woman who truly loved." Captain Harville smiled, as much as to say, "Do you claim that for your sex?" and she answered the question, smiling also, "Yes. We certainly do not forget you so soon as you forget us. It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You are forced on exertion. You have always business of some sort or other to take you back into the world immediately, and continual occupation and change So weaken impressions." "Granting your assertion that the world des all this so soon for men (which, however, I do not think I shall grant), it does not apply to Benwick. He has not been forced upon any exertion. The peace turned him on shore at the very moment, and he has been living with us in our little family circle ever since." "True," said Anne, "very true; I did not recollect; but what shall we say now, Captain Harville? If the change be not from outward circumstances, it must be from within; it must be nature, man's nature, which has done the business for Captain Benwick." "No, no, it is not man's nature. I will not allow it to be more man's nature than woman's to be inconstant and forget those they do love or have loved. I believe the reverse. I believe in a true analogy between our bodily frames and our mental; and that as our bodies are the strongest so are our feelings; capable of bearing most rough usage, and riding out the heaviest weather.' "Your feelings may be the strongest," replied Anne, "but the same spirit of analogy will authorize me to assert that ours are the nost tender. Man is more robust than woman, but he is not longer lived, which exactly explains my view of the nature of their attachments. Nay, it would be too hard upon you 'Have you finished your letter?" said Captain Harville. 'Not quite; a few lines more. I shall have done in five minutes.” "There is no hurry on my side. I am only ready whenever you are. I am in very good anchorage here," smiling at Anne, "well supplied, and want for nothing. No hurry for a signal at all. Well, Miss Elliot," lowering his voice, "as I was saying, we shall never agree, I suppose, upon this point. No man and woman would probably. But let me observe that all histories are against you-all stories, prose and verse. If I had such a memory as Benwick I could bring you fifty quotations in a moment on my side of the argument, and I do not think I ever opened a book in my life which had not something to say upon woman's inconstancy. Songs and proverbs all talk of woman's fickleness. But perhaps you will say these were all written by men." "Perhaps I shall. Yes, yes, if you please, no reference to examples in books. Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove anything." "But how shall we prove anything?" "We never shall. We never can expect to prove anything upon such a point. It is a difference of opinion which does not admit of proof. We each begin, probably, with a little bias towards our own sex, and upon that bias build every circumstance in favour of it which has occurred within our own circle, many of which (perhaps those very cases which strike us the most) may be precisely such as cannot |