Mrs Musgrove was giving Mrs Croft the history of her eldest daughter’s engagement, and just in that inconvenient tone of voice which was perfectly audible while it pretended to be a whisper. Anne felt that she did not belong to the conversation, and yet, as Captain Harville seemed thoughtful and not disposed to talk, she could not avoid hearing many undesirable particulars; such as, “how Mr Musgrove and my brother Hayter had met again and again to talk it over; what my brother Hayter had said one day, and what Mr Musgrove had proposed the next, and what had occurred to my sister Hayter, and what the young people had wished, and what I said at first I never could consent to, but was afterwards persuaded to think might do very well,” and a great deal in the same style of open-hearted communication: minutiae which, even with every advantage of taste and delicacy, which good Mrs Musgrove could not give, could be properly interesting only to the principals. Mrs Croft was attending with great good-humour, and whenever she spoke at all, it was very sensibly. Anne hoped the gentlemen might each be too much self-occupied to hear.
“And so, ma’am, all these thing considered,” said Mrs Musgrove, in her powerful whisper,“though we could have wished it different, yet,altogether, we did not think it fair to stand out any longer,for Charles Hayter was quite wild about it,and Henrietta was pretty near as bad;and so we thought they had better marry at once,and make the best of it,as many others have done before them. At any rate,said I, it will be better than a long engagement.”
“That is precisely what I was going to observe,” cried Mrs Croft. “I would rather have young people settle on a small income at once, and have to struggle with a few difficulties together, than be involved in a long engagement. I always think that no mutual—”
“Oh!dear Mrs Croft,” cried Mrs Musgrove,unable to let her finish her speech,“there is nothing I so abominate for young people as a long engagement.It is what I always protested against for my children.It is all very well, I used to say,for young people to be engaged,if there is a certainty of their being able to marry in six months,or even in twelve; but a long engagement—”
“Yes, dear ma’am,” said Mrs Croft,“or an uncertain engagement,an engagement which may be long.To begin without knowing that at such a time there will be the means of marrying, I hold to be very unsafe and unwise, and what I think all parents should prevent as far as they can.”
Anne found an unexpected interest here.She felt its application to herself,felt it in a nervous thrill all over her;and at the same moment that her eyes instinctively glanced towards the distant table, Captain Wentworth’s pen ceased to move, his head was raised, pausing, listening, and he turned round the next instant to give a look, one quick, conscious look at her.
The two ladies continued to talk,to re-urge the same admitted truths,and enforce them with such examples of the ill effect of a contrary practice as had fallen within their observation, but Anne heard nothing distinctly; it was only a buzz of words in her ear, her mind was in confusion.
Captain Harville, who had in truth been hearing none of it,now left his seat, and 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 re-assumed 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 compliance 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 low, 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 as 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 a profession, pursuits,business of some sort or other,to take you back into the world immediately,and continual occupation and change soon weaken impressions. ”
“Granting your assertion that the world does 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 authorise me to assert that ours are the most 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, if it were otherwise. You have difficulties, and privations, and dangers enough to struggle with. You are always labouring and toiling, exposed to every risk and hardship. Your home, country, friends, all quitted. Neither time, nor health, nor life, to be called your own. It would be hard, indeed” (with a faltering voice), “if woman’s feelings were to be added to all this.”
“We shall never agree upon this question,” Captain Harville was beginning to say,when a slight noise called their attention to Captain Wentworth’s hitherto perfectly quiet division of the room. It was nothing more than that his pen had fallen down; but Anne was startled at finding him nearer than she had supposed, and half inclined to suspect that the pen had only fallen because he had been occupied by them, striving to catch sounds, which yet she did not think he could have caught.
“Have you finished your letter?” said Captain Harville.
“Not quite, a few lines more.I shall have done in five minutes.”