Whether he would have proceeded farther was left to Anne’s imagination to ponder over in a calmer hour; for while still hearing the sounds he had uttered, she was startled to other subjects by Henrietta, eager to make use of the present leisure for getting out, and calling on her companions to lose no time, lest somebody else should come in.
They were obliged to move.Anne talked of being perfectly ready,and tried to look it;but she felt that could Henrietta have known the regret and reluctance of her heart in quitting that chair, in preparing to quit the room, she would have found, in all her own sensations for her cousin, in the very security of his affection, wherewith to pity her.
Their preparations, however, were stopped short.Alarming sounds were heard; other visitors approached,and the door was thrown open for Sir Walter and Miss Elliot,whose entrance seemed to give a general chill.Anne felt an instant oppression,and wherever she looked saw symptoms of the same.The comfort, the freedom,the gaiety of the room was over,hushed into cold composure, determined silence,or insipid talk, to meet the heartless elegance of her father and sister.How mortifying to feel that it was so!
Her jealous eye was satisfied in one particular.Captain Wentworth was acknowledged again by each,by Elizabeth more graciously than before.She even addressed him once,and looked at him more than once. Elizabeth was,in fact, revolving a great measure.The sequel explained it.After the waste of a few minutes in saying the proper nothings,she began to give the invitation which was to comprise all the remaining dues of the Musgroves. “To-morrow evening, to meet a few friends: no formal party.” It was all said very gracefully, and the cards with which she had provided herself, the “Miss Elliot at home,” were laid on the table, with a courteous, comprehensive smile to all, and one smile and one card more decidedly for Captain Wentworth. The truth was, that Elizabeth had been long enough in Bath to understand the importance of a man of such an air and appearance as his. The past was nothing. The present was that Captain Wentworth would move about well in her drawing-room. The card was pointedly given, and Sir Walter and Elizabeth arose and disappeared.
The interruption had been short, though severe,and ease and animation returned to most of those they left as the door shut them out, but not to Anne. She could think only of the invitation she had with such astonishment witnessed, and of the manner in which it had been received; a manner of doubtful meaning, of surprise rather than gratification, of polite acknowledgement rather than acceptance. She knew him; she saw disdain in his eye, and could not venture to believe that he had determined to accept such an offering, as an atonement for all the insolence of the past. Her spirits sank. He held the card in his hand after they were gone, as if deeply considering it.
“Only think of Elizabeth’s including everybody!” whispered Mary very audibly.“I do not wonder Captain Wentworth is delighted!You see he cannot put the card out of his hand.”
Anne caught his eye, saw his cheeks glow,and his mouth form itself into a momentary expression of contempt,and turned away, that she might neither see nor hear more to vex her.
The party separated.The gentlemen had their own pursuits,the ladies proceeded on their own business,and they met no more while Anne belonged to them.She was earnestly begged to return and dine,and give them all the rest of the day,but her spirits had been so long exerted that at present she felt unequal to more, and fit only for home, where she might be sure of being as silent as she chose.
Promising to be with them the whole of the following morning,therefore, she closed the fatigues of the present by a toilsome walk to Camden Place, there to spend the evening chiefly in listening to the busy arrangements of Elizabeth and Mrs Clay for the morrow’s party, the frequent enumeration of the persons invited, and the continually improving detail of all the embellishments which were to make it the most completely elegant of its kind in Bath, while harassing herself with the never-ending question, of whether Captain Wentworth would come or not?They were reckoning him as certain,but with her it was a gnawing solicitude never appeased for five minutes together. She generally thought he would come, because she generally thought he ought; but it was a case which she could not so shape into any positive act of duty or discretion, as inevitably to defy the suggestions of very opposite feelings.
She only roused herself from the broodings of this restless agitation,to let Mrs Clay know that she had been seen with Mr Elliot three hours after his being supposed to be out of Bath, for having watched in vain for some intimation of the interview from the lady herself, she determined to mention it, and it seemed to her there was guilt in Mrs Clay’s face as she listened. It was transient: cleared away in an instant; but Anne could imagine she read there the consciousness of having, by some complication of mutual trick, or some overbearing authority of his, been obliged to attend (perhaps for half an hour) to his lectures and restrictions on her designs on Sir Walter. She exclaimed, however, with a very tolerable imitation of nature:—
“Oh!dear!very true. Only think, Miss Elliot,to my great surprise I met with Mr Elliot in Bath Street.I was never more astonished.He turned back and walked with me to the Pump Yard.He had been prevented setting off for Thornberry,but I really forget by what; for I was in a hurry,and could not much attend,and I can only answer for his being determined not to be delayed in his return.He wanted to know how early he might be admitted to-morrow.He was full of ‘to-morrow,’ and it is very evident that I have been full of it too,ever since I entered the house,and learnt the extension of your plan and all that had happened,or my seeing him could never have gone so entirely out of my head. ”
CHAPTER XXIII.
One day only had passed since Anne’s conversation with Mrs Smith;but a keener interest had succeeded,and she was now so little touched by Mr Elliot’s conduct,except by its effects in one quarter,that it became a matter of course the next morning,still to defer her explanatory visit in Rivers Street.She had promised to be with the Musgroves from breakfast to dinner.Her faith was plighted, and Mr Elliot’s character,like the Sultaness Scheherazade’s head,must live another day.
She could not keep her appointment punctually, however;the weather was unfavourable,and she had grieved over the rain on her friends’ account,and felt it very much on her own,before she was able to attempt the walk.When she reached the White Hart,and made her way to the proper apartment,she found herself neither arriving quite in time,nor the first to arrive. The party before her were,Mrs Musgrove, talking to Mrs Croft,and Captain Harville to Captain Wentworth;and she immediately heard that Mary and Henrietta,too impatient to wait,had gone out the moment it had cleared,but would be back again soon,and that the strictest injunctions had been left with Mrs Musgrove to keep her there till they returned. She had only to submit, sit down, be outwardly composed, and feel herself plunged at once in all the agitations which she had merely laid her account of tasting a little before the morning closed. There was no delay, no waste of time. She was deep in the happiness of such misery, or the misery of such happiness, instantly. Two minutes after her entering the room, Captain Wentworth said—
“We will write the letter we were talking of, Harville,now, if you will give me materials.”
Materials were at hand, on a separate table;he went to it, and nearly turning his back to them all,was engrossed by writing.