“This,” said she, “is nearly the sense,or rather the meaning of the words,for certainly the sense of an Italian love-song must not be talked of,but it is as nearly the meaning as I can give;for I do not pretend to understand the language.I am a very poor Italian scholar.”
“Yes, yes, I see you are.I see you know nothing of the matter.You have only knowledge enough of the language to translate at sight these inverted, transposed, curtailed Italian lines, into clear, comprehensible, elegant English. You need not say anything more of your ignorance. Here is complete proof.”
“I will not oppose such kind politeness;but I should be sorry to be examined by a real proficient. ”
“I have not had the pleasure of visiting in Camden Place so long,” replied he, “without knowing something of Miss Anne Elliot;and I do regard her as one who is too modest for the world in general to be aware of half her accomplishments, and too highly accomplished for modesty to be natural in any other woman.”
“For shame!for shame!this is too much flattery.I forget what we are to have next,” turning to the bill.
“Perhaps,” said Mr Elliot, speaking low,“I have had a longer acquaintance with your character than you are aware of. ”
“Indeed!How so?You can have been acquainted with it only since I came to Bath,excepting as you might hear me previously spoken of in my own family. ”
“I knew you by report long before you came to Bath.I had heard you described by those who knew you intimately.I have been acquainted with you by character many years.Your person, your disposition, accomplishments, manner;they were all present to me.”
Mr Elliot was not disappointed in the interest he hoped to raise.No one can withstand the charm of such a mystery.To have been described long ago to a recent acquaintance,by nameless people, is irresistible;and Anne was all curiosity. She wondered,and questioned him eagerly; but in vain.He delighted in being asked, but he would not tell.
“No, no, some time or other, perhaps, but not now.He would mention no names now; but such,he could assure her, had been the fact.He had many years ago received such a description of Miss Anne Elliot as had inspired him with the highest idea of her merit, and excited the warmest curiosity to know her.”
Anne could think of no one so likely to have spoken with partiality of her many years ago as the Mr Wentworth of Monkford, Captain Wentworth’s brother. He might have been in Mr Elliot’s company, but she had not courage to ask the question.
“The name of Anne Elliot,” said he,“has long had an interesting sound to me.Very long has it possessed a charm over my fancy; and,if I dared, I would breathe my wishes that the name might never change. ”
Such, she believed, were his words;but scarcely had she received their sound,than her attention was caught by other sounds immediately behind her,which rendered every thing else trivial.Her father and Lady Dalrymple were speaking.
“A well-looking man,” said Sir Walter,“a very well-looking man.”
“A very fine young man indeed!” said Lady Dalrymple.“More air than one often sees in Bath. Irish, I dare say.”
“No, I just know his name. A bowing acquaintance.Wentworth; Captain Wentworth of the navy.His sister married my tenant in Somersetshire,the Croft, who rents Kellynch.”
Before Sir Walter had reached this point,Anne’s eyes had caught the right direction,and distinguished Captain Wentworth standing among a cluster of men at a little distance. As her eyes fell on him, his seemed to be withdrawn from her. It had that appearance. It seemed as if she had been one moment too late; and as long as she dared observe, he did not look again: but the performance was recommencing, and she was forced to seem to restore her attention to the orchestra and look straight forward.
When she could give another glance, he had moved away.He could not have come nearer to her if he would;she was so surrounded and shut in:but she would rather have caught his eye.
Mr Elliot’s speech, too, distressed her.She had no longer any inclination to talk to him.She wished him not so near her.
The first act was over.Now she hoped for some beneficial change; and,after a period of nothing-saying amongst the party,some of them did decide on going in quest of tea.Anne was one of the few who did not choose to move.She remained in her seat, and so did Lady Russell;but she had the pleasure of getting rid of Mr Elliot;and she did not mean,whatever she might feel on Lady Russell’s account,to shrink from conversation with Captain Wentworth,if he gave her the opportunity.She was persuaded by Lady Russell’s countenance that she had seen him.
He did not come however.Anne sometimes fancied she discerned him at a distance,but he never came. The anxious interval wore away unproductively.The others returned, the room filled again,benches were reclaimed and repossessed,and another hour of pleasure or of penance was to be sat out,another hour of music was to give delight or the gapes,as real or affected taste for it prevailed. To Anne,it chiefly wore the prospect of an hour of agitation.She could not quit that room in peace without seeing Captain Wentworth once more, without the interchange of one friendly look.
In re-settling themselves there were now many changes,the result of which was favourable for her.Colonel Wallis declined sitting down again,and Mr Elliot was invited by Elizabeth and Miss Carteret,in a manner not to be refused, to sit between them;and by some other removals,and a little scheming of her own,Anne was enabled to place herself much nearer the end of the bench than she had been before, much more within reach of a passer-by. She could not do so, without comparing herself with Miss Larolles, the inimitable Miss Larolles; but still she did it, and not with much happier effect; though by what seemed prosperity in the shape of an early abdication in her next neighbours, she found herself at the very end of the bench before the concert closed.
Such was her situation, with a vacant space at hand,when Captain Wentworth was again in sight.She saw him not far off. He saw her too;yet he looked grave, and seemed irresolute,and only by very slow degrees came at last near enough to speak to her.She felt that something must be the matter.The change was indubitable.The difference between his present air and what it had been in the Octagon Room was strikingly great. Why was it?She thought of her father, of Lady Russell.Could there have been any unpleasant glances?He began by speaking of the concert gravely,more like the Captain Wentworth of Uppercross;owned himself disappointed, had expected singing;and in short, must confess that he should not be sorry when it was over.Anne replied, and spoke in defence of the performance so well,and yet in allowance for his feelings so pleasantly,that his countenance improved,and he replied again with almost a smile.They talked for a few minutes more;the improvement held;he even looked down towards the bench,as if he saw a place on it well worth occupying;when at that moment a touch on her shoulder obliged Anne to turn round.It came from Mr Elliot. He begged her pardon,but she must be applied to, to explain Italian again.Miss Carteret was very anxious to have a general idea of what was next to be sung. Anne could not refuse; but never had she sacrificed to politeness with a more suffering spirit.
A few minutes, though as few as possible,were inevitably consumed;and when her own mistress again,when able to turn and look as she had done before,she found herself accosted by Captain Wentworth,in a reserved yet hurried sort of farewell.“He must wish her good night; he was going;he should get home as fast as he could.”
“Is not this song worth staying for?” said Anne, suddenly struck by an idea which made her yet more anxious to be encouraging.