Chapter 1--A Motherly Friend

Posted on 2010-04-07

Miss Anne Elliot, the second of three daughters of Sir Walter Elliot, Bart., of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a girl of nineteen in the summer of 1806. She had hardly anybody to love, for her mother, the late Lady Elliot had passed away five years ago, when she was only fourteen years old. Her eldest sister, Elizabeth, who was two years older than Anne, was their father's favourite, and his two younger daughters were of very inferior value. Elizabeth was very handsome, and very like her father, and like him, being also vain and self-centered, never had much time or affection for her younger sisters either. The youngest sister, Mary was nearly four years younger than Anne and was still in school in Bath; she would probably spend another year there. Anne herself had left that school when she was sixteen.

Sir Walter had not remarried, and the person who came nearest to being a mother to his motherless children was an intimate friend of the late Lady Elliot, a sensible, deserving woman, who had been brought, by strong attachment to her friend, to settle down by her, in the village of Kellynch. During her last illness, Lady Elliot had been aware that three girls, the two eldest sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother to bequeath; an awful charge rather, to confide to the authority of a conceited, silly father. It was thus on her dear friend Lady Russell, and on her kindness and advice that Lady Elliot mainly relied for the best help and maintenance of the good principles which she had been anxiously giving her daughters. Lady Elliot had anxiously confided her maternal concerns to her friend, and Lady Russell's earnest promise to watch over the girls as though they were her own had done much to ease and comfort the sick lady's mind as she lay on the bed from which she was never to rise again.

Many of their acquaintances had anticipated that Sir Walter the baronet and widower, and Lady Russell, the widow of a knight, the late Sir Henry Russell, would marry soon after the year of mourning was over, but such an event never happened. They were still near neighbours and intimate friends, and one remained a widower, the other a widow.

Lady Russell was a benevolent, charitable, good woman, and capable of strong attachment; most correct in her conduct, strict in her notions of decorum, and with manners that were held a standard of good breeding. She had a cultivated mind, and was, generally speaking, rational and consistent. Although she had prejudices on the side of ancestry, and had a value for rank and consequence which blinded her a little to the faults of those who possessed them, she was not so blind to Sir Walter's failings. She had known enough of her friend Lady Elliot's feelings after her marriage to be aware that the then Elizabeth Stevenson had acted impulsively in accepting Sir Walter's proposal of marriage after only a short acquaintance. Lady Russell herself had married an old friend – she and the late Sir Henry had known each other since childhood; they had in fact been distantly related to each other. Lady Russell had never regretted her marriage, which was more than could be said for Lady Elliot. It had not taken Lady Elliot very long to realize that her youthful infatuation over Sir Walter's good looks and his rank had resulted in her marrying a vain, conceited and silly man. Except for that youthful infatuation however, Lady Elliot had been an excellent woman, sensible and amiable, and she had always done her duty by her husband, with every appearance of wifely affection, even though she could no longer truly love or respect him in her heart. She had humoured, or softened, or concealed his failings and promoted his real respectability during the seventeen years of their life together, and although she had not been very happy in her marriage, had found enough consolation in her duties, her friends, and her children.

Lady Russell had been relieved when Sir Walter had declared his intention of remaining single for his dear daughters' sakes – for one daughter, his eldest, he would really have given up anything, which he had not been very much tempted to do. Lady Russell had no desire to be the second Lady Elliot, but she fully intended to keep her promise to her friend; and to give the Elliot girls the benefit of her judgment and experience, especially on such matters where the young ladies would need motherly guidance and influence. She loved them all, but it was only in the second daughter, Anne – her most dear god-daughter, favourite and friend -- that she could fancy the mother to revive again. Lady Russell believed that Anne would grow up to become a woman of real understanding like her mother. Anne resembled her mother in countenance and disposition – if only, hopefully, she would one day be blessed with a happier and more equal marriage, with a man of sense who could value and appreciate her true worth.

As for Elizabeth, Lady Russell had scarcely any influence with her, and seemed to love her, rather because she would love her, than because Elizabeth deserved it. She had never received from her more than outward attention, nothing beyond the observations of complaisance, and had never succeeded in any point which she wanted to carry, against previous inclination. Elizabeth had succeeded, at sixteen, to all that was possible, of her mother's rights and consequences, becoming the mistress of Kellynch Hall, presiding and directing, doing the honours, and laying down the domestic law at home, and leading the way to the chaise and four, and walking immediately behind Lady Russell out of all the drawing rooms and dining rooms in the country. Lady Russell had often endeavoured to give Elizabeth the advantage of her own better judgment and experience, including on her management of Kellynch Hall, but in vain; Elizabeth would go her own way.

As for Mary, in person she was inferior to both her elder sisters, not having either Elizabeth's strikingly handsome looks or Anne's delicate prettiness; but she was by no means plain, and in her bloom, might reach the dignity of being "a fine girl". Though more good-natured than Elizabeth, Mary did not seem to have Anne's understanding or temper. Of course, she was still very young, and it might be hoped that she would improve as she grew older. When properly attended to, Mary had great good humour and excellent spirits, but she often complained of being neglected at home. Perhaps her complaints were not without justice, for it was true that Sir Walter was a most partial parent – other parents might have their favourites, without neglecting their other children -- but he and Elizabeth often thought only of themselves, and had little time or attention for either Anne or Mary. However, Anne was much more patient and uncomplaining, and she tried to get her younger sister to be less complaining and more resigned.

Lady Russell certainly did her best to keep her promise to the late Lady Elliot, but it was impossible for her to be with the Miss Elliots all the time. She had a very large acquaintance as well as her own relatives; she spent some part of every winter in Bath, where she drank the waters, and she usually spent some part of the summer on visits to her relatives. Therefore, Lady Russell had not been at Kellynch during the early part of that summer in 1806.

Chapter 2 – A Girl of Nineteen in 1806

The Rev Mr Edward Wentworth had been appointed as the curate of Monkford, in the neighbourhood of Kellynch, in 1805. In the early summer of the following year, his younger brother, a captain Frederick Wentworth, having been made commander in consequence of the action off St Domingo, and not immediately employed, had come in to Somersetshire, and having no parent living, found a home for half a year, at Monkford. He was a remarkably fine young man, with a great deal of intelligence, spirit and brilliance, and Anne was an extremely pretty girl, with delicate features and mild dark eyes, and with gentleness, modesty, taste and feeling. Half the sum of attraction, on either side, might have been enough, for he had nothing to do, and she was feeling very lonely, especially with Lady Russell away and Mary in boarding school. The encounter of such lavish recommendations could not fail. They were gradually acquainted, and when acquainted, rapidly fell in love. It would be difficult to say which had claimed to see highest perfection in the other, or which had been the happiest or most excited; she, in receiving his declarations and proposals, or he, in having them accepted.

Their period of felicity was but a short one. Sir Walter, on being applied to, without actually withholding his consent, or saying it should never be, gave it all the negative of great astonishment, great coldness, great silence, and a professed resolution of doing nothing for his daughter. He thought it a very degrading alliance.

Anne was young and gentle, but it might yet have been possible for her to withstand her father's ill-will, though unsoftened by one kind word or look on the part of her elder sister, if only she could have her dear friend Lady Russell's support or at least acquiescence to the engagement.

When Lady Russell had returned to Kellynch, she had soon observed the warm friendship between her god-daughter and the curate's brother, and their apparent preference for each other; she had been rather uneasy, but had attempted to assure herself that it was nothing serious. After all, Frederick Wentworth was a young man of three and twenty, with his own way to make in the world, surely he would not yet be thinking of getting married or even engaged at this time. Anne certainly appeared to like him and to enjoy his company, but she had met so few people and had seen so little of the world. It was certainly time for Anne to mix more with the world, and Lady Russell was determined to bring Anne with her on her next trip to Bath in the winter.

Therefore, Lady Russell's reaction when Anne told her of her engagement to Frederick was not quite what Anne had expected.

Lady Russell was silent for some moments, and then she asked; "And what did your father say about it?"

Anne's face fell, and she said: "Oh well, I didn't expect him to be so very happy about it, but neither did I expect him to be so very – I know that he expects Elizabeth to make what the world calls a good or even a great match – that he expects her to marry a title, but he does not have such expectations for me, I mean, he has said that Elizabeth is so handsome that he believes she will make a very good match one day, but that Mary and I could hardly hope to equal Elizabeth's expectations, as we do not equal her in beauty. Of course, I also wish to make a good match, but my idea of a good match is different – it is on personal qualities rather than rank or fortune. Anyway, my father does not like it but, well, at least, he did not actually refuse his consent, he said that Frederick must not expect any dowry with me, but that is quite all right. Frederick is certainly not a dowry hunter; in fact, he has said that he would very much prefer to support his wife by his own exertions, rather than for him and his wife to be dependent on her money."

"And can he support a wife, my dear? Does he have any other income apart from his profession?"

"Frederick has no private fortune, but he has been lucky in his profession, and is confident that he will soon be rich."

"Indeed! Since he has been lucky in his profession, I suppose he has invested his naval prize money well, and will soon accumulate a sufficient fortune."

"He does not yet have any capital, I mean, he has been lucky in getting prize-money, but so far he has been spending freely what had come freely – he was not yet thinking of marriage last year, and so had not thought it necessary to be prudent with his money. But he assures me that all that will be changed now. He has always been lucky in his career, and he believes that he will continue to be so – and now that he is going to settle down, he has promised that he will take care to save and invest every penny of any future prize money. Oh, he is so brilliant, and so full of life and ardour, he knows that he will soon have a ship, and soon be on a station that will lead to everything we want. He has such a sanguine temper, and such wonderful fearlessness of mind!"

Lady Russell was dismayed, and her dismay was increased by Anne's description of her lover's confidence. Frederick Wentworth's confidence, sanguine temper and fearlessness of mind, powerful in its own warmth, and bewitching in the wit which had expressed it, must have been enough for Anne, but it operated very differently on Lady Russell. She regarded such confidence as imprudence, especially when coupled with his earlier extravagance. If he had really been such an intelligent and meritorious young man, he should have been prudent earlier, and should have wisely invested at least part of his prize money, instead of spending all of it freely.

Looking at Anne's glowing dark eyes when she spoke of Frederick, Lady Russell believed that Anne was infatuated with him. Anne's infatuation somehow reminded Lady Russell of Anne's mother – with her resemblance to her mother's looks, Anne suddenly looked exactly like what her mother, Lizzy Stevenson, had looked like more than twenty years ago, on that very occasion when she had excitedly confided her youthful infatuation over the young and handsome Sir Walter Elliot, to her particular friend – and their hopes that the four of them – Lizzy with Walter, and Amelia with Henry – would form a charming quartet through life together. At first glance, it seemed absurd for anyone to be making any comparison whatsoever between a vain, conceited, silly, idle baronet with an inherited family estate and a witty, lively and ambitious naval officer who was hoping to make his own fortune in the world. But they were both very good-looking men, and it seemed to Lady Russell that those good looks had been capable of bewitching women of otherwise superior sense into falling in love, or becoming infatuated, with them.

Lady Russell believed that Anne's engagement to Frederick Wentworth was a very unfortunate affair, and that it was her duty to persuade Anne to break it off. If Anne's father had been a sensible man, it would have been his duty to express some valid concerns against the engagement, in a rational manner, to both his daughter and her suitor, but Lady Russell could imagine in what terms the silly and conceited Sir Walter must have expressed his objections. Sir Walter had probably only succeeded in insulting that young man and setting up his back, making him determined to marry Anne with or without her father's blessing.

Chapter 3 – The History of the former Miss Wards of Huntingdon

For several days, Lady Russell had been thinking carefully and anxiously over how best to advise Anne about the imprudence of her hasty engagement. She then remembered the history of some old girlhood friends of hers, the former Miss Wards of Huntingdon, and decided to tell Anne about them.

Lady Russell had invited Anne to dine with her – just the two of them, and to spend the evening at Kellynch Lodge, so that they could have some serious private conversation over the plans for Anne's future. Anne was thankful for her godmother's invitation – during the last few days, things had been very difficult and uncomfortable for her at home, with her father and Elizabeth.

Anne's glowing radiance of blissful felicity was fading, and Lady Russell noticed that she was looking troubled and anxious.

"Are you feeling quite well, my dear/"

"Yes, I'm quite well – it's just that, oh dear godmother, it is not quite what Frederick and I had planned when he proposed to me, but we think that we might have to hasten our marriage plans and get married as soon as possible."

"What!" Lady Russell exclaimed in horror.

"When Frederick asked me to marry him, we thought that we would have a rather long engagement, I mean we thought of getting married in a couple of years' time, when he is confident that he will have made his fortune and be in a position to support a wife. But I don't know if I can continue living for another two years or so in my father's house. Father is so displeased with my engagement and dislikes Frederick so much – he has also said such unkind things about Mr Wentworth and Frederick's family -- and Elizabeth too is so cold and unkind – I don't think they wish to endure having me living with them for another couple of years or so now that I'm engaged to Frederick, and I don't know if I can endure it either."

"But, my dear, you cannot possibly be thinking of getting married at once. It would be madness -- the height of imprudence to do so – you are still so young and so is he -- and you've said yourself that it is not what captain Wentworth had planned when he proposed to you."

"I know, but Frederick is so strong and loving – when he realizes how difficult it is for me at home since our engagement – he suggests getting married as soon as possible, if I do not mind being thrifty and having to economize as much as we can in the early days of our marriage – it will make the fortune all the more welcome when he acquires it. And I do not mind; you know that I'm not at all like Elizabeth, and I've never cared for expensive clothes or things the way she does."

Lady Russell's horror and dismay was increased tenfold. Anne Elliot, with all her claims of birth, beauty and mind, to throw herself away at nineteen – to be tied to a young man of twenty-three who had nothing but himself to recommend him, and no hopes of attaining affluence, but in the chances of a most uncertain profession, and no connexions to secure even his further rise in that profession! Anne Elliot so young, known to s few, to be snatched off by a stranger without alliance or fortune, or rather sunk by him into a state of most wearing, anxious, youth-killing dependence!

Lady Russell spoke with great tenderness of manner. "Anne dearest, you know that I love you as though you were my daughter, I had hoped to have children of my own – but you have been everything that I would have hoped a daughter of mine would be. My dearest wish is to see you happy. I know that when two young people believe themselves to be in love, no prospect of hardship appears to be too great as long as they could be together. But you have always been a sensible girl, and therefore I'm not afraid of speaking rationally to you. I am well aware that your father's objections to the attachment between you and captain Wentworth appear irrational and even insulting. It is not those objections that I have in mind – but there are other, more valid concerns against the imprudence of such a match, especially if you're thinking of getting married at once. I would like to tell you about a girlhood friend of mine who made a very imprudent marriage – for love, as she thought."

It was then that Lady Russell narrated to Anne the history of three sisters who had been girlhood friends of hers – the former Miss Wards of Huntingdon.

"The Miss Wards – Bertha, Maria and Frances -- were a family of three sisters – like you and your sisters, Anne. They were fairly well-provided for, as their father in his will had left them each with a dowry of seven thousand pounds. The second sister, Maria, made what her uncle declared to be a most brilliant marriage with Sir Thomas Bertram of Mansfield Park in Northamptonshire. It led him to hope that her sisters would also make equally brilliant marriages. Well, of course such expectations were not quite reasonable – the fact that one sister had married a baronet certainly does not mean that her sisters would also marry baronets! Anyway, the eldest sister, Bertha married the Rev Mr Norris, a respectable clergyman who had the living of Mansfield; it was certainly not a contemptible match. But the youngest sister, Frances, made a very imprudent marriage. She fell in love with a Lieutenant Price of the Marines, he had no fortune or connections, but they were confident that he would soon make his fortune. She knew that her family would have cautioned her and remonstrated with her if they had been aware of her attachment. Therefore, since she had then just come of age and no longer needed anybody's consent to her marriage, she did not inform her family and only wrote to them about it after she was actually married. Her sisters were naturally upset about such a clandestine and imprudent marriage, and Mrs Norris wrote angrily to Mrs Price to point out the folly of her conduct and its possible ill consequences. Mrs Price was in her turn injured and angry, and in her reply declared bitterly that she and her husband would do very well on their own, and that they neither needed nor desired any assistance from the proud Sir Thomas or Lady Bertram. By the end of a dozen years, however, with a large and still increasing family, a husband disabled for active service, and a very small income to supply all their wants, Mrs Price could no longer afford to cherish any pride or resentment. She wrote to Lady Bertram with so much contrition and despondence, as could not but dispose the Bertrams, who are kindly people, to a reconciliation. Sir Thomas liberally assists the Prices in the education of their sons, and in finding appropriate professions for them as soon as they become old enough for a determined pursuit. Most importantly, the Bertrams have also more or less adopted Mrs Price's eldest daughter, and brought her to Mansfield to be educated with her cousins. Sir Thomas is certainly a generous and principled gentleman. His manner might seem a little proud and stiff to those who do not know him well, but he is actually a kindly man with a desire of seeing all those who are connected with him in comfortable situations. Mrs Price was certainly thankful to pack her daughter off to be brought up at Mansfield – the hardships of her life had dulled her affections, including even her maternal affections, the Prices' home is not a happy one, and she has to be grateful for her brother-in-law's benevolence and charitable kindness."

Anne was silent upon hearing the story, and Lady Russell continued:

"My dearest Anne, I'm not saying that what had happened to Mrs Price would necessarily happen to you if you marry captain Wentworth. But there is the risk – it would certainly be a very imprudent marriage, and you are so very young – you are even younger than Frances Ward was when she married Lieutenant Price. And you do not even have any such sum as seven thousand pounds or a secured dowry settled on you. And I am sure that you would not wish to have to be dependent on your sisters' benevolence in the future."

"No, I would certainly not wish for that," said Anne in a low voice, "and Elizabeth is not at all likely to be kind or generous in such a situation," she thought privately to herself.

"My dear, it would be imprudent and uncomfortable for you to have a long, uncertain engagement, and it would be the height of madness to be thinking of getting married at once. So it would be better if there is no binding engagement between you and the captain. It is better that you should both be free at this time. You are only nineteen, and he is only twenty-three. If your mutual affections for each other are indeed true and steady, and not a mere youthful infatuation, and if his confident hopes are indeed realized in a couple of years' time, there is no reason why he should not return to you then, and renew his addresses."

Chapter 4 – A Broken Engagement

Posted on 2010-04-14

Anne could not ignore Lady Russell's advice to her. To Anne, Lady Russell was in the place of a parent. Her godmother had promised her dear mother to watch over her and guide her, and Lady Russell had become more of a parental figure to Anne than her only surviving parent – Anne knew in her heart of hearts that her father had no real affection for her; perhaps Sir Walter was incapable of having any real affection or attachment for anybody or anything except himself, his good looks and his rank, and his favourite daughter Elizabeth, probably because she was very handsome and very like himself, and he was certain that she would one day or other, be properly solicited for her hand in marriage by baronet-blood and make a suitable alliance. Sir Walter believed that all equality of alliance must rest with Elizabeth – he found little to admire in Anne (so totally different were her delicate features and mild dark eyes from his own), or in Mary either (who was prone to having a red nose whenever she went out for a walk on a windy day). But although he hardly expected his younger daughters to be solicited by baronet-blood, he certainly did not want either of them to marry a nobody such as a poor naval officer without family or fortune. He said to himself that he would be quite contented to give his consent if Anne and Mary were to give their hands in marriage and confer honour on any young men, as long as such suitors had large fortunes even if they were of inferior birth -- since he had never expected much from his younger girls' inferiority of appearance.

However, Frederick Wentworth had no private fortune, so Sir Walter had been quite insolent to captain Wentworth over his lack of family connections – Edward and Frederick Wentworth were quite unconnected, and had nothing to do with the Strafford family, and Sir Walter scornfully wondered how the names of many of the nobility had become so common. Anne had attempted to make it up to her lover, firmly assuring him that she was perfectly indifferent to such nonsensical notions of birth and rank that were so dear to her father and elder sister. Frederick had believed her; he believed that Anne was perfection itself, and when he realized how difficult and uncomfortable life had been for her in her father's house since their engagement, she had thought that he was being very gallant when he had impetuously offered to hasten their marriage plans. He had suggested that if she was willing, it might be better for them to struggle through a few difficulties together in the early days of their marriage, than for her to have to endure living for another couple of years' or so in her father's house. Anne had appeared to be quite willing when they had first discussed the possibility of an early marriage instead of a long engagement.

Frederick had not expected Anne to suddenly change her mind and decide not only against an early marriage, but even against the continuation of a long engagement.

"Do you mean that you now – agree with your father's objections and accept his views on the inequality and lack of suitability between us?"

"Oh, no," said Anne quickly, "but my godmother, Lady Russell, has been speaking to me – she has pointed out how highly imprudent an early marriage would be – as she said, it would be the height of madness for us to get married at once – and a long engagement would be awkward, inconvenient and uncomfortable, quite indiscreet and improper -- so it is better that there should be no formal or binding engagement between us – for both our sakes."

"For both our sakes?"

"Yes, for your sake as well – it is better for you, at this time in your career, that you should not be burdened with a wife or even a fiancιe, especially one who would not be bringing any fortune with her – you know that my father is not going to settle any dowry on me if we get married."

"I've already said that I certainly do not want your father's money!"

"I know your disinterestedness, but we have to be prudent and practical when thinking about the future – the expenses of a man with a wife and family are much greater than those of a bachelor -- Lady Russell has been telling me about an old friend of hers, who made an imprudent love match with a Lieutenant of Marines some years ago, and then he became disabled for active service, and they are now quite dependent on her family's benevolence for financial assistance for the education of their children."

"So you have no confidence in me – you think that I will not succeed in my career?"

"I have confidence in you and I certainly wish you every success in your profession – but as Lady Russell has said – we are both still very young – it is better that there should be no youthful engagement between us -- perhaps when we are older, when you have achieved the hoped-for success in your profession, and if you have formed no other attachment – perhaps we might meet again then, and ..."

Captain Wentworth scarcely heard her to the end of her sentences – Anne's constant repetition of what "Lady Russell has said" was getting on his nerves. He did not really know Lady Russell well, and at this point he found it difficult to distinguish between Lady Russell and the proud and insolent Sir Walter Elliot. Perhaps he even disliked and resented Lady Russell more than he did Sir Walter – Sir Walter obviously appeared to have little influence over his daughter Anne. Wentworth had earlier been so relieved when Anne had appeared to be able and willing to withstand her father's ill will – that she was willing to be influenced and guided by him, Frederick, and him alone. Now she was yielding to the influence of this Lady Russell, who was not even her own mother!

Anne was trying to explain Lady Russell's concerns to Frederick, but he was too impetuous and headstrong to listen to her explanations. His resentment against Lady Russell was only increased when Anne suggested that he might speak to Lady Russell himself – she thought that her godmother might convince him of the validity of such concerns, and the lengthy inconvenience of a binding engagement, if only they were to talk and understand each other. But Wentworth could see no point in speaking to Lady Russell and listening to her ladyship's reasons for breaking up their engagement. Lady Russell was most certainly his enemy in his opinion.

Frederick Wentworth was completely unable to distinguish between Sir Walter's insolent objections and Lady Russell's valid concerns. He thought that Lady Russell's influence had persuaded Anne to become cautious and selfish – he did not believe that Anne was not merely acting under a selfish caution, that she imagined that she was consulting his good, as much as, or perhaps even more than, her own. The belief of being prudent, and self-denying, as much for his sake as for her own, became Anne's chief consolation, under the misery of a parting – a final parting; and every consolation was required, since she had to encounter all the additional pain of opinion, on his side, totally unconvinced and unbending, and of feeling himself ill-used by her relinquishment of their engagement.

Chapter 5 – Two to three years later

It was the year 1808; more than two years were gone since this little history of sorrowful interest had reached its close. A few months in 1806 had seen the beginning and the end of the acquaintance between Anne Elliot and Frederick Wentworth. Lady Russell might not have been unreasonable in supposing that the pain of separation of two young persons, whose affection could probably be the growth of only a few weeks, would also be over, if not in a few weeks', at least in a few months' time. However, it took rather longer than a few months to end Anne's share of suffering from it. Her attachment and regrets had, for quite a while, clouded every enjoyment of youth, with an early loss of bloom and of spirits. Although time had softened down much of peculiar attachment to him, she had perhaps been a little too dependent on time alone. No aid had been given in change of place – except in the one visit to Bath with Lady Russell soon after the rupture. But perhaps it had been too soon after the rupture, Anne had not been in perfectly good spirits during that winter in Bath; she felt that she disliked Bath, and did not think it agreed with her, and had consequently politely refused Lady Russell's invitation to her to accompany her again to Bath on the following winter.

Lady Russell had then been very earnest in trying to get Anne included in her father's visit to London, but in vain. Sir Walter had travelled to London every spring, accompanied by his eldest daughter, ever since Elizabeth was only sixteen years old, for a few weeks' annual enjoyment of the great world. As Anne had now reached the age of one and twenty, Lady Russell was sensibly open to all the injustice and all the discredit of the selfish arrangements which continued to shut her out. But Elizabeth had great influence over her father, and the eldest Miss Elliot had no wish to include her younger sisters in the visit to London, as long as she herself had not been properly solicited by baronet blood to enter into the state of matrimony. Sir Walter might believe that his favourite daughter was the unrivalled beauty of the family, but Elizabeth herself was not unaware that there could be those who might admire Anne's delicate features more than her own. Elizabeth had convinced her father that there was no need to include the younger girls in the visit to town, until she herself was married and would chaperone her sisters in society.

Lady Russell was as satisfied as ever with her own discretion, and she never actually wished the past undone, but she had begun to have some anxiety as to whether Anne could be tempted, by some amiable man of talents and independence, to enter a state for which she held her to be peculiarly fitted by her warm affections and domestic habits. Anne's loss of spirits had not been unnoticed by her godmother, who became convinced that only a second attachment would be the thoroughly natural, happy and sufficient cure, at her time of life, for her unfortunate first attachment. But was there any young man within the Kellynch circle, who could bear a comparison with the handsome, dashing Frederick Wentworth, as he stood in her memory – who would suit the nice tone of her mind, the fastidiousness of her taste, in the small limits of the society around them?

As for Anne herself, she did not blame Lady Russell for her advice; she did not blame herself for having been guided by her in breaking off her youthful engagement to Frederick Wentworth. It had, perhaps been one of those cases in which advice was good or bad only as the events had turned out to be. As it turned out however, the events that had happened had bestowed on Captain Wentworth earlier prosperity than could have been reasonably calculated on. He had left the country, and all his sanguine expectations, all his confidence had been justified. His genius and ardour had seemed to foresee and to command his prosperous path. He had, very soon after their engagement ceased, got employ, and all that he had told her would follow, had taken place. He had distinguished himself, and early gained the next step in rank – he had certainly every right to be triumphant and proud of himself, to have been promoted from master and commander to full captain while still in his mid-twenties, and on his own personal merits, too. If he had been well-connected, he would have less right to be personally proud of himself, as it would have been less remarkable for him to have been made post captain at a young age, and be guaranteed of an inexorable climb up the ranks of seniority.

Having achieved his promotion, Captain Wentworth had returned to England in the year 1808, with a few thousand pounds, and was then posted into the Laconia. However, his brother, the Rev Mr Wentworth was no longer in Somersetshire – he had recently obtained a living in Shropshire, and had left the curacy of Monkford at about the same time.

Captain Frederick Wentworth was still unattached, and for a while it did occur to him to write to Miss Anne Elliot, to find out if she was also similarly unengaged and unattached, and whether, if so, she would be willing to resume their engagement, now that his sanguine expectations and confident hopes had been proven to be not merely empty dreams. But he was too proud, much too proud to ask again. He did not understand her, he shut his eyes, and would not understand her; he was still too angry, bitter and resentful to do her justice. He told himself that it was unbecoming for his manly pride, to once again beg for the hand of the girl who had jilted him, whose proud family and close friend had insulted him in those days when they had thought that he might remain poor and obscure.

Anne had followed his career by reading the navy lists and the newspapers – she was thus aware of his early success; and in spite of the unhappy terms upon which they had parted, was momentarily not without a certain hope that he might write to her in a friendly way, and renew their acquaintance, now that he could write about his triumphant success. But the months passed, and he never wrote to her.

Chapter 6 – The Musgroves of Uppercross

The estate of Uppercross was a fine property, second in importance, in that country, only to that of Kellynch itself. The village of Uppercross was situated at only a distance of three miles from Kellynch; it was a moderate sized village, which had been completely in the old English style, containing only two houses superior in appearances to those of the yeomen and labourers – the mansion of the squire, with its high walls, great gates, and old trees, substantial and unmodernized – and the compact, tight parsonage, enclosed in its own neat garden, with a vine and a pear tree trained round its casements. The neighbourhood was not large, but the Musgroves were visited by everybody, and had more dinner parties, and more callers, more visitors by invitation and by chance, than any other family. They were more completely popular.

Mr and Mrs Musgrove had six children – their two eldest were sons, Charles and Richard, followed by two daughters, Henrietta and Louisa, and then followed by another two sons, John and Henry. Charles, the eldest, was a young man of good character and appearance, about two or three years older than Miss Anne Elliot; the second Musgrove son, Richard, three years younger than Charles, was very different from his elder brother, he was always running into mischief, being wild and idle, and inclined to be rather a bully towards his younger siblings. Henrietta was a pretty, gentle girl about four or five years younger than Richard, and Louisa was a lively young girl less than two years younger than Henrietta. The two youngest children were about six and eight years younger than Louisa.

Mr and Mrs Musgrove had been almost in despair over what to do with their wild, thick-headed, selfish second son – it seemed out of the question that he would ever do well enough in his studies to be able to enter one of the Universities. The navy or the army would have to be his profession. Fortunately, Dick Musgrove was quite excited at the thought of becoming either a sailor or a soldier, and was quite pleased to be shipped off to sea in his early teens. In the years that followed, news from him was seldom heard of, since he wrote only two letters to his parents – only two disinterested letters – all the rest, quite a large number of them, had been mere applications for money. Dick Musgrove had been little cared for by his family, though quite as much as he deserved, and there was not much grieving for him when news of his death abroad, before he reached his twentieth year, had worked its way to Uppercross.

Henrietta and Louisa Musgrove had gone to school in Bath – to the same seminary for young ladies that had been attended by Anne and Mary Elliot. As Henrietta was only two years younger than Mary, they had spent some time in school together. Mary was good-natured enough in many respects, though her Elliot pride would occasionally appear from time to time. Mary liked the Musgrove girls well enough, especially since Henrietta and Louisa appeared to look up to and admire the Miss Elliots.

Henrietta and Louisa certainly looked up to and admired Anne exceedingly. They quite liked Mary too, though they privately thought it a pity that unlike Anne, Mary was not altogether free from the Elliot pride and nonsense that characterized the eldest Miss Elliot. They did not like Elizabeth Elliot at all, although they were always very polite to her, of course she was much older, but they were privately provoked and irritated by the cool superciliousness which they detected in her manner towards their mother.

Charles also admired Anne exceedingly, and his sisters were delighted to observe his increasing attentions towards Miss Anne Elliot. There was nobody whom Henrietta and Louisa would rather have for a sister and future mistress of Uppercross, than Anne Elliot.

One day during the holidays – Henrietta had recently completed her schooling, while Louisa was to spent another year in school -- after Charles had taken unusual care with his appearance, and was dressed in his best riding clothes, his sisters asked him where he was going.

"Oh, I thought I might ride over to Kellynch today," he replied with studied carelessness.

Henrietta and Louisa exchanged smiles and winked discreetly at each other, and –
"Will you be seeing Anne?" one of them asked, at the same time that the other said "I hope you will see Anne"

"You must give her our dearest love."

"And tell her that we are all very much looking forward to seeing her again very soon."

"Tell her that we miss her already since – how many days was it since we last met?"

Charles blushed slightly, saying, "Yes, of course I will give her your love – if I see her, I mean."

The two sisters waited excitedly for their brother's return, hoping to be the first to offer their congratulations to him on his engagement to Anne. However, when Charles Musgrove returned home, there was no look of the happy lover about him; he was very quiet and appeared to be rather dejected.

Henrietta and Louisa looked at each other in dismay.

"Do you think that he had proposed – and that Anne refused him?"

"Why would she refuse him – Anne is so nice, she and Charles are such good friends, she always seems happy to be with us, unlike her eldest sister, she is not at all proud."

"Yes, Miss Elliot is certainly most proud and disagreeable, isn't she? I certainly wouldn't want to have her for a sister – and of course she won't want to marry any man without a title. And I'm sorry to see that sometimes even Mary appears to have some of the Elliot pride – I suppose it is due to Miss Elliot's influence – but Anne is perfectly free from it."

"I think that Lady Russell has more influence over Anne than Miss Elliot."

"Lady Russell! Do you think that is why Anne has refused Charles? I mean – Lady Russell is not proud like Miss Elliot, but she is very bookish and learned, isn't she? And Anne is quite bookish and learned herself – she's always reading some book of poems and states of the nations – all the new publications recommended by Lady Russell. I suppose Charles is not bookish or learned enough to please Lady Russell."

"But perhaps he can try to be – if he begins to read more books now – if he can please Lady Russell, perhaps Anne will accept him if he proposes to her again."

Henrietta and Louisa spoke to their brother the next day, and asked him what had happened between him and Anne. Charles realized that his sisters had already guessed what had happened, and he admitted to them that he had fallen in love with Anne and wanted to marry her, that he had proposed to her but that she had refused him.

"Did she say why she refused you? We all thought that she likes you as much as you like her."

"She said that she likes me very much as a friend, but that she is not in love with me."

"Oh, but then you can continue to court her and make her fall in love with you. Perhaps she had not thought about it – perhaps she did not know that you've been courting her and thought that you were only being friendly -- but now that she knows you are in love with her, she might begin to fall in love with you," cried Louisa excitedly.

Charles smiled sadly at his sister's optimism.

"It might also help if you can get Lady Russell on your side," Henrietta added more quietly and thoughtfully, "Lady Russell is her godmother and has great influence over her, she might not have encouraged Anne to think much of you because she does not think that you are learned enough for her – you know that Lady Russell is very bookish and learned, and Anne herself is always reading the books recommended to her by her ladyship. Perhaps if you learn to take more interest in those books yourself ... "

"I know, perhaps we should all take a course of reading -- between the three of us together – you know Henrietta, there's that book of poems which Miss Pope gave you as a farewell gift at the end of your last school term – I've been thinking that I might like to try reading that – some people go into such ruptures over poetry – and Anne certainly reads poetry as well as prose – she reads novels too – we can ask her to recommend the books she likes to us."
Louisa was quite excited in her plans to help her brother to win Anne's hand – she certainly did not wish him to give up after a failed first proposal.

Charles was touched by his sisters' enthusiasm. He had not been quite sure whether he should make another attempt to win Anne – he feared that it might be ungentlemanly to pursue a girl with unwanted attentions – that it might be looked upon by her as a form of persecution. He certainly did not wish to lose Anne's friendship. But surely it would not amount to any form of persecution to make one more attempt – he would not be in a hurry to ask her again, but would seek to strengthen their friendship, to improve himself and make himself even more agreeable to her – his sisters' ideas on a course of reading might be helpful – Anne was certainly very well read and accomplished. Charles made up his mind not to give up the hope of eventually winning Anne's hand in marriage. He decided that he would quietly seek to strengthen their friendship and to share her interests, in the hope of making her fall in love with him, or at least of persuading her that a strong friendship could be foundation enough for wedded love. He would not be too proud to propose to the same girl for a second time.

Chapter 7 – Patience and Perseverance

Posted on 2010-04-20

A few days later, Charles Musgrove called on Lady Russell with a message from his mother – Mrs Musgrove was giving one of her little dinner parties on the following week, and hoped that Lady Russell would be able to accept the invitation to dine at Uppercross Hall. Charles had offered to deliver the invitation to Lady Russell in person, as he was very much hoping for an opportunity to have a little private conversation with Lady Russell.

After Lady Russell had accepted Mrs Musgrove's invitation, Charles rather nervously said that he hoped that she could spare him a few minutes of her time, as he very much wished to speak to her on a private matter of great importance to him. Lady Russell was rather surprised, but kindly encouraged the young gentleman to continue. Charles then informed her of what had passed between himself and Miss Anne Elliot – that he had asked her to marry him, but she had refused him; however, he hoped that her refusal would not be final. He certainly did not wish to persecute the young lady with unwanted attentions, but since she had said that she liked him very much as a friend but was not in love with him, surely it was not wrong for him to hope -- he could not help hoping that he might yet be able to win her affections.

Lady Russell listened to him with great interest – she was not at all displeased that Charles Musgrove should be a suitor for the hand of her dearest Anne. After all, Charles Musgrove was the eldest son of a man, whose landed property and general importance, were second, in that part of the country, only to Sir Walter's. More importantly, he was of good character and appearance -- he was a steady, respectable, pleasant, decent and amiable young man, and fairly good-looking, though not exactly handsome. Although Lady Russell might have asked for something more, while Anne was nineteen, she would have rejoiced to see her at twenty-two, so respectably removed from the partialities and injustice of her father's house, and settled so permanently near herself.

Charles was saying: "Lady Russell, I know that she loves you and esteems you very highly – I am not presuming to – I am not asking that you should speak to her – that you should use your influence in favour of my suit – but if I may – I hope that you will be so kind as not to exercise any influence against me. I know that Miss Anne deserves the very best, and I might not fulfil all your expectations for her – she is very accomplished – while my family and I – we have not cared much for intellectual pursuits – but I hope perhaps that – well, I might improve myself in that respect, and endeavour to share more of her interests. My sisters also absolutely adore her, and thanks to her influence, are already beginning to take more interest in some serious reading and in practising their music – they're hoping to learn to become almost as accomplished as she is."

Lady Russell certainly had no wish to influence Anne against Charles Musgrove. In fact, if Captain Wentworth had returned and proposed again, after his promotion and with his improved circumstances, Lady Russell, however much she would have preferred Anne not to marry a young man who was a stranger to her, would not have so steadily objected to such a match, if Anne had really wished to resume that engagement. Had Captain Wentworth taken such a step, it would have been a proof of the steadiness of his character and the constancy of his affections in Lady Russell's eyes – just as the remarkably early success in his career had been a proof that all his sanguine expectations and confident hopes had not been merely impetuous boastful talk or empty dreams. Captain Wentworth seemed no longer to be in danger of degrading any future wife and family of his to the level of the unfortunate Mrs Price and her family in Portsmouth. Instead, if his advancement and success were to continue at such a rate, he might even be on the way of emulating the path of the distinguished admiral Lord St Ives, the son of a country curate who had recently been honoured and conferred with a peerage in recognition for his services to the country.

Lady Russell was aware of Captain Wentworth's promotion and better prospects, because of that day about a year ago, when she had come across Anne being deeply absorbed in reading some newspapers. Lady Russell still remembered that day very well – she had asked Anne if there was anything very interesting in the news, and Anne had rather hastily replied that she did not suppose that there was anything that Lady Russell would find interesting. Anne had then folded up and set aside the papers, and they had chatted together in their usual friendly way about some of the happenings in their neighbourhood. Lady Russell had later glanced at the papers that Anne had been reading, and the name Captain Frederick Wentworth had caught her eye. She then realized what was the news that Anne had found so interesting.

Lady Russell did not mention it to Anne either, but to her anxiously observing eyes, it appeared that Anne had not been quite herself for quite a while after that news had appeared in the papers. Lady Russell was not quite sure, but it seemed to her than Anne had been in a state of – it was possibly suppressed anxiety or expectancy or nervousness or uncertainty over the next several weeks. It seemed obvious that the news about Captain Wentworth had revived Anne's thoughts about the dashing naval officer – according to their original plan when they had first formed that youthful engagement, his promotion to the next step in rank would have been the time when they would begin to plan their wedding. Lady Russell had privately wondered whether Captain Wentworth would write to Anne and propose again – but the months passed, and nothing was heard from him. It was probable that his supposed attachment to Anne two years ago had been a mere youthful infatuation on his side – either that; or perhaps he was too proud to ask again.

Now Lady Russell was informed that Anne had received another proposal of marriage from another young man – and he was a young man who was not a stranger, but well-known in the neighbourhood as a steady, respectable and amiable young man, and he was the heir to the estate of Uppercross. He was also willing to be patient and persevering and to propose again, despite Anne's initial refusal of him. The only flaw about him was that he had not cared much for more intellectual pursuits and interests – his father and mother were very good sort of people, friendly and hospitable, but they were rather old-fashioned in many ways, not very well educated, and not very elegant. But he and his sisters and little brothers certainly had the opportunities and advantages of a much better education than their parents, and could well be in a state of alteration, perhaps of improvement. It was true that at this time of his life, Charles Musgrove appeared to do nothing with much zeal, but sport, and his time when the hunting season was over, seemed to be often trifled away, without benefit from books, or more serious interests and pursuits. But he was still fairly young – he was not more than five and twenty – and his desire to improve himself appeared to be very promising. Lady Russell was therefore happy to advise and encourage him in it. Surely any man who truly loved would never be too proud to propose to the same woman for a second time.

Chapter 8 – Friendship and Love

Having made up his mind to try to win Anne's affections and propose to her again, Charles Musgrove was determined to continue his courtship in a quietly persistent yet unobtrusive way; he certainly did not wish in any way to embarrass or persecute or harass her with unwanted attentions. Whatever eventually happened, he certainly did not want to lose her friendship. The assurance of her friendship had given him the greatest comfort as well as some hope of finally winning her hand in marriage – he hoped to win her by strengthening that friendship before venturing to propose again, perhaps in about a year's time.

Anne, who really liked Charles as a friend, and had thought that he liked her because of her friendship with his young sisters, had been a little fearful that her rejection of his unexpected proposal of marriage would cause some awkwardness and embarrassment between them, or even some resentment on his side. She was therefore pleasantly surprised to find that when they met again, he had greeted her and spoken to her in his usual friendly way, without the slightest hint of resentment, and that there appeared to be neither awkwardness nor embarrassment on his side. Consequently, Anne had quickly got over her own slight embarrassment, and they had spoken quite comfortably on various light-hearted topics with each other.

Anne had then thought that she and Charles would get along in the old friendly way, and that his sudden proposal would be quietly forgotten and never referred to again. However, it turned out that she was quite mistaken. He did not go on exactly in the same old friendly way – it was not quite accurate to say that he was as friendly as ever, because he was actually more friendly than ever; and he seemed more anxious than ever to secure her good opinion. His attentions to her were continued – continued but not obtrusive, they were gentle, friendly, respectful and undemanding. He inquired about the books she was reading, spoke of his wish to improve himself, and regretted that the little collection of books at Uppercross was not greater – his parents had little interest in books, but he and his sisters were hoping to build up a little library of their own; they knew how well-read she was, and hoped she would assist them in recommending the kind of books that should be purchased – those that would be most suitable, interesting, pleasant and beneficial.

Anne soon realized that he had not taken her refusal as final, when he said to her one day:

"There is nobody whose good opinion I desire more than your own – I have the greatest admiration for you – I do not wish to distress you in any way, I will not yet speak of certain hopes that I still cherish, your friendship means a great deal to me, and whatever may happen – I hope that at least I will never lose your friendship – that our friendship may even be a basis for – but I will not speak further on that now."

Anne had coloured up at his words, and he had then quickly changed the subject of conversation – he had begun to speak of his sisters, saying:

"My sisters have the highest opinion of you – they are both reading that book of poems that you mentioned the other day – Louisa especially had become quite enthusiastic over poetry, rather surprisingly so, as we used to think that she is too lively a girl to want to sit quietly for long with only a book in her hands to entertain her."

Anne was glad to talk about his sisters and their books, instead of more personal topics – she also ventured to mention that she hoped they did not read only poetry – that the strong feelings it could evoke might not always be desirable for some impressionable young minds. She ventured to recommend more works of prose, and on being asked to particularize, mentioned some works of the best moralists, some collections of the finest letters, and some memoirs of worthy and interesting historical characters. She also mentioned that the Agricultural Reports could be practical and useful reading for country gentlemen who wished to take a personal interest in the management of their estates.

Anne could not help feeling that there was really something very sweet and quite charming about this gentle, friendly, undemanding courtship. Perhaps, if Charles Musgrove had attempted to court her with wit, brilliance and ardour, she might inevitably had drawn comparisons between him and Frederick Wentworth, and found Charles's courtship to be an inferior copy of Frederick's. But no such comparison needed to be made, as the two men's methods were quite different.

About a year after his first and unsuccessful proposal of marriage, Charles proposed to Anne again. Anne was not taken by surprise this time, she had guessed, from his manner to her; that he meant to ask her again. But she was uncertain as to what answer to give him this time. She certainly liked him very much, even more than she had liked him a year ago – his continued, yet gentle and undemanding attentions towards her had touched her tender heart. She also had more respect and esteem for him now than she had a year ago – she had noticed that previously, he seemed to do nothing with much zeal, except hunt, but he had now taken some interest in more serious pursuits – in books, and in the management of his father's estate, and the needs of the tenants. And he was so pleasant and amiable – and he must love her very dearly – he had not resented her initial refusal but had proposed for the second time after a whole year of quiet constancy -- surely it would be quite a blessing to be the wife of such a gentleman!

Anne felt that she could no longer resist – and if she hesitated before accepting Charles' second proposal, it was not because she thought him unworthy – rather it was because she was not quite sure whether it would be fair on him to marry her – that perhaps he deserved a wife who could give him a more ardent love than the affectionate friendship and regard that she felt for him. At least – she decided that it would not be fair for her to accept him without first informing him about her former engagement.

Anne therefore told Charles the little history of her first attachment.

"Charles, about four years ago, when I was a girl of nineteen, I met a young naval commander – we were strongly attracted to each other – I believed that we fell in love very quickly, after only a couple of months' acquaintance, he asked me to marry him, and I accepted him. But he had no fortune or connections, and my father thought it a very degrading alliance – but you know that I don't care for that sort of thing. The commander and I had planned a rather long engagement – he thought that he could be promoted to full captain in a couple of years' time, and that would be the time for us to get married. But my father disliked the engagement so much, although he did not actually refuse his consent, that things became very awkward and uncomfortable for me at home. We did not think that I could continue to live at home for another two years or so under those circumstances, and so we considered hastening our marriage plans. Lady Russell was absolutely horrified when I informed her that I might have to get married at once – I believed that I was willing to struggle through a few difficulties in the early days of marriage until he made his fortune – but Lady Russell convinced me that it would be highly imprudent – the height of madness in fact – for a nineteen year old girl with no settled portion – for of course my father would have refused to settled any dowry on me – to be married to a twenty three year old naval commander with no private fortune. She has an old friend who had made an imprudent marriage as a young girl to a lieutenant of Marines, who then became disabled for active service, and they now have to rely on her family for financial assistance. So – an immediate marriage was out of the question – and a long engagement would have been most inconvenient and uncomfortable. I felt that I had no choice but to break off the engagement for his sake as well as my own – that it was not fair on him to be burdened with a wife or even a fiancιe at that time of his life and under those circumstances. Perhaps I did have some hopes that if his confident expectations of early success were to be realized, we might renew our acquaintance and ... but he apparently did not see it that way. He had felt himself to be very ill-used by us all – and we parted on very unhappy terms. As it turned out, his confident hopes were soon realized – he was promoted about a couple of years ago – I read about it in the papers – but I have never heard anything from him since the breaking up of our engagement."

After hearing this little history, Charles was silent for a few moments, and then he asked:

"Why are you telling me this-- do you mean to say – that you still love him, and have not given up the hope that one day he might ... ?

"Oh, I no longer have any further hopes or expectations of him", said Anne quickly, "but I think that you should know that – I was really in love with him – I think there is something about a first attachment that cannot be completely forgotten – I have become very fond of you, but even if we get married, you can never be my first love – so I am not sure if it would be fair for you – you are such a good man, Charles, you might deserve more than that – that you deserve a wife who can give you a more ardent love than the affectionate friendship and regard that I can give you."

"Anne, your affectionate friendship and regard means everything--it means all the world to to me – I can assure you that I shall be quite content with that for now – it is quite enough for me, if you will consent to be my wife and perhaps – try to fall in love with me sometime in the future -- after our marriage?"

"Oh, Charles, that is so sweet of you, if you are sure that you could be content with that, then I shall be happy and honoured to be your wife. And you may be assured that – as your wife, I will always give you my wholehearted loyalty and fidelity."

"I have not the slightest doubt of that, my dearest Anne."

Chapter 9 – A Wedding at Kellynch

Posted on 2010-04-25

Who can be in doubt of what followed? Sir Walter, on being applied to for his consent, made no objection. Indeed, though he had no real affection for Anne, and no vanity flattered, to make him really happy on the occasion, he was quite pleased to bestow the honour of his second daughter's hand on Charles Musgrove – after all, the Musgroves were an old country family of respectability and large fortune; and Charles was his father's eldest son and heir to the estate of Uppercross.

It was certainly not a misalliance this time, thought Sir Walter, and Anne had even acquired a little artificial importance in her father's eyes, by becoming the future mistress of Uppercross Hall. In fact, it was exactly the sort of match that he had expected his younger daughters to make. Sir Walter had hardly expected either Anne or Mary to achieve what the world would call a brilliant alliance, or to be solicited by either noble or baronet blood, although at the same time, he would certainly strongly object to either of them marrying any young man with neither fortune nor connections. Any hopes for a brilliant alliance with a noble, aristocratic family, or an equal alliance with another baronet or heir to a baronetcy, must, in Sir Walter's opinion, rest with Elizabeth, whom he was confident would, one day or other, make such a match.

Sir Walter was therefore quite willing to settle on his daughter a share of the ten thousand pounds that had been the late Lady Elliot's portion – he decided to give Anne, upon her marriage, the sum of three thousand pounds, and to promise to give Mary, a similar sum in the future, while the remaining four thousand pounds would go to Elizabeth. Sir Walter decided that it was easier to divide the ten thousand pounds in that way, instead of giving 3,333 pounds to each of his daughters, and after all, Elizabeth was his eldest daughter.

Elizabeth had smiled and graciously congratulated her sister Anne and Mr Charles Musgrove on their engagement, she was not so sorry about it but that she could put on a decent air of happiness and rejoicing. She told herself that she was far from envying Anne, after all, Charles was not the heir to a title, and she herself would not have accepted him, had he asked for her hand in marriage instead of for her sister's. Privately, however, Elizabeth herself no longer quite equal her father in confident personal expectations. Miss Elliot's maid and her mirror assured her that she was as handsome as ever – perhaps handsomer than ever, for it sometimes happens that a woman is even handsomer in her mid twenties than in her late teens, and generally speaking, if there had been neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life when a woman's charms may be at its height. She was thus fully satisfied of being quite as handsome as ever, but nine years had seen her the mistress of Kellynch Hall, nine winters revolving frosts had seen her opening every ball of credit which a scanty neighbourhood afforded, and nine springs had shown their blossoms, as she travelled up to London with her father during the London season. She had the remembrance of all this, she had the consciousness of being five and twenty, to begin to have some slight apprehensions about the future. And the fact that her younger sister -- whom her father had regarded as so inferior to herself -- should be the first among the Miss Elliots to enter into the state of matrimony, and to make a perfectly respectable match with a young gentleman who was the heir to a large property--well, it did begin to cause some slight stirrings of uneasiness in Elizabeth's mind.

Elizabeth Elliot began to wonder whether it would be wise to continue to confine her possible choices to young men with titles, or who were to inherit a title, and whether she should condescend to consider other young gentlemen with large properties and fortunes, even if they were from untitled families. But her father would not be happy if she were to make such a choice, he did not mind it for her sisters, but he had always expected better than that from her.

Of Anne's immediate family, Mary was the one most genuinely pleased by the circumstance. She really liked the Musgrove family, and had always been gratified by the mixture of respectful deference and warm friendliness in their manner towards the two younger Miss Elliots (the eldest Miss Elliot had hardly encouraged any warm friendliness on their part). The youngest Miss Elliot might also flatter herself with having been partly instrumental in the connection, by what she now claimed to be her intimate friendship with her former schoolfellow, the eldest Miss Musgrove, -- that her sister Anne had become closely acquainted with her friend's brother through the frequent visits made between Henrietta and herself.

Mary was well pleased with the result of what she believed to be the first romance in her family. She was quite unaware of Anne's previous attachment – Mary had still been in school during that period of Anne's short-lived engagement to Frederick Wentworth, and, due to the pride of Sir Walter and Elizabeth, and the delicacy of Lady Russell, she had never been admitted to the smallest knowledge of it afterwards,

Lady Russell certainly rejoiced in the match; her dearest wish was to see Anne happy, and there was certainly every prospect of happiness in this match with such an amiable young gentleman. Lady Russell was happy to assist Anne in all the wedding preparations, especially in ordering the wedding clothes, and Elizabeth, who did not wish to be much bothered with her sister's wedding preparations, was well pleased to leave it all to the bride and Lady Russell.

It had been decided between the engaged couple that a farmhouse situated at an easy distance from the Great House at Uppercross was to be their residence. The Mr Musgroves were happy to make considerable improvements to the house – and it was elevated into a pretty and commodious cottage with its veranda, French windows and other general prettiness, and became quite as likely to catch the traveller's eye, as the more consistent and considerable aspect and premises of the Great House, about a quarter of a mile further on.

One the eve of her wedding day, Anne had a long talk with her younger sister. Mary had been saying how happy she was for her sister, and how fortunate it was that Anne was to be settled at Uppercross, only three miles away from Kellynch; then she sighed, and said:

"Of course, Uppercross is only three miles away, but I've just realized that there will be a great difference – I will miss you so much – I'm going to be so lonely at home, practically neglected and all alone by myself most of the time – you know that Elizabeth never has much time for either of us."

"Perhaps you should call more often on Lady Russell," suggested Anne gently, "you know that she always has time for us, and is always happy to see any of us."

"I suppose I can do that – and Lady Russell will be sure to lend some new books for me to read – Elizabeth says that Lady Russell quite bores her with the new publications."

"Elizabeth does not share Lady Russell's tastes in reading – Elizabeth prefers to read only novels, while Lady Russell is always interested in the new poems and states of the nation that come out – but she also reads novels, and does not despise novel reading."

"Perhaps I will re-read some of the old novels – oh dear, it is going to be so lonely without you at Kellynch."

"I'm only going to be three miles away," said Anne smiling, "and you will often be coming over to Uppercross – Henrietta and Louisa are also always glad to see you -- and you know that Charles and I will be happy to have you to stay over at Uppercross Cottage, after we return from our wedding trip."

Mary hesitated for a moment; then she said:

"Henrietta and Louisa are very nice girls – and quite accomplished, since they have been to the same school that you are I attended -- I don't mind regarding them as my sisters-in-law as well – but – well, I know that you have to call on Mrs Hayter at Winthrop, since she and Mrs Musgrove are related – Elizabeth was saying it is a pity that although the Musgroves are perfectly respectable people, they should have such low connections as the Hayters – she hopes that the Hayters won't be presuming on the Musgroves' alliance with us, and begin to fancy themselves to be almost our equal -- their house at Winthrop is no more than a large farmhouse – it has no beauty and no dignity, and quite close to the farmyard."

"Mrs Hayter is Mrs Musgrove's sister and Charles' aunt, and I certainly mean to pay my respects to her. Charles is always friendly with his cousins; Henrietta and Louisa too, are quite fond of the Miss Hayters."

"I'm only telling you what Elizabeth has said," said Mary rather hastily, for she had heard a slight sharpness in Anne's usually gentle tones. "I do not mean to say that I will be guided by her opinions – after all, for all the airs that she gives herself, she is still unmarried at five and twenty. Elizabeth has always thought that she will marry a title, but now that she is getting older – why she will be quite an old maid soon, if she doesn't get married within the next two or three years – perhaps she will no longer be so particular about getting a title, and will accept any respectable gentleman with a good property and income. I certainly hope that I will be married before I reach the age of five and twenty, and like you, I don't much care for a title either – of course it will be very nice to marry a titled gentleman, if possible, but I will also be quite contented with any respectable gentleman whose circumstances and prospects are similar to those of your Charles."

Anne sighed inwardly, but she said gently,

"Mary, what is even more important in a partner in life is the personal qualities of a good character -- good principles, good temper, and mutual respect and esteem. I'm not saying that the kind of passionate love that novelists write about in their romances is always necessary for a marriage in real life, but the couple should at least have some mutual affection and esteem for each other personally – and not merely for each other's rank or fortune."

"Oh, of course, and I certainly will not want to marry a horrid, disagreeable man whom I cannot like, even if he is rich and titled."

The wedding of Mr Charles Musgrove and Miss Anne Elliot was very much like other weddings, where the bride and bridegroom have no taste for finery and parade; and the eldest Miss Elliot privately thought it rather shabby, and very inferior to what she would like her own wedding to be, saying to herself – "very little white satin, very few lace veils, I thought Lady Russell would have managed better than this, I used to think she had some taste in dress, but her own dress is quite hideous today – and there is something so formal and arrange in her air! And she sits so upright during the ceremony. However, I daresay that Anne and her bridegroom are quite satisfied with everything." Elizabeth was quite right on that last point at least -- for in spite of the deficiencies perceived by the eldest sister, the parties themselves were perfectly contented in the union.

Chapter 10 – Her Good Influence (Conclusion)

Life went on smoothly and pleasantly for Charles and Anne Musgrove at Uppercross Cottage. Within four years of their marriage, Anne had given birth to two sons, little Charles and Walter – they had thought it only right, since their eldest son was named after his father and paternal grandfather, that their second son should be named Walter – there had been several Walters in the Elliot family, and Anne's father had not been the only Sir Walter – an earlier Sir Walter had been a fairly distinguished and talented gentleman.

Since the year after Anne's marriage, Mary had been spending the winters with Lady Russell in Bath. Mary have had a new found respect for Anne ever since the second sister had become the first of the Miss Elliots to enter into the state of matrimony, and she had taken Anne's advice to call more often on Lady Russell, and to pay more attention to that lady who had striven to be the motherly friend of all the three Elliot sisters.

Lady Russell had taken pity on Mary, and her complaints of being often ill-used, neglected and overlooked at her home by her father and Elizabeth. Lady Russell was well aware that there was certainly some truth in Mary's complaints – although Anne had never complained when she had endured similar treatment before her marriage. Even after Anne's marriage, Sir Walter had remained as firm as ever in his decision of not including a younger daughter in the trip to London until his eldest daughter should be established in matrimony. Lady Russell had invited Mary to accompany her to Bath on the following winter, and Mary had joyfully accepted. Unlike Anne five years ago, Mary had enjoyed herself very much in Bath; she had been in excellent spirits, enjoying the gaiety and the change, and as she could be very good-humoured when properly attended to, Lady Russell had found her quite a pleasant companion during that winter. Lady Russell had invited Mary again on her next visit to Bath, and it then became understood that the youngest Miss Elliot would be regularly accompanying Lady Russell to Bath in the winter.

For Mary, the visits to Bath had, to some extent, consoled her for the continued refusal of her father and eldest sister to include her in their visits to London. Moreover, in Bath, Lady Russell and a daughter of Sir Walter Elliot of Kellynch, would always be worth knowing, and always acceptable as acquaintances, while in London, the youngest Miss Elliot might well be overshadowed not only by her eldest sister, but by many other handsome and fashionable young ladies.

Anne and Charles had invited Mary to stay with them at Uppercross Cottage when Mary had been left on her own during Sir Walter and Elizabeth's visit to London in the spring, and Mary had become a regular visitor to Uppercross. The daily intercourse between Uppercross Cottage and the Great House was also an advantage – it was certainly carried nearly as far as possible, for they usually met every morning, and hardly ever spent an evening asunder. Perhaps they would 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.

The party at the Great House was sometimes increased by other company. Mary had at first rather wondered that Mrs Musgrove was very apt not to give Anne the precedence that was her due, when they dined at the Great House with other families, she did not know why Anne was to be considered so much at home as to lose her place. Anne had firmly told her that she had no wish to be putting herself forward to take place of Mrs Musgrove – nobody doubted her right to have precedence, but it was much more becoming not to insist on it. In fact, Mrs Musgrove would occasionally insist that her daughter-in-law should take precedence, even though Anne had declared that she considered herself to be quite at home at the Musgrove family home of Uppercross Hall.

The girls were wild for dancing; and the evenings ended, occasionally, in an unpremeditated little ball. The family of cousins nearby– the Hayters of Winthrop, were within a walk of Uppercross, and in their less affluent circumstances, were dependent on the Musgroves for all their pleasures; they would come at any time, and help play at any thing, or dance any where. Anne, as a married woman, and since she very much preferred the office of musician to a more active post, played country dances to them by the hour together – a kindness which always drew everybody's compliments on her musical powers – "how those little fingers of yours fly about" – they would exclaim. Charles was proud of his wife, but as he also insisted on dancing with her for a couple of dances on those evenings, Mary, Henrietta and Louisa would also take their turns with supplying the music for those dances. Anne would usually be playing for at least half of the evening, while the other three would take turns with each other for the other half. Anne certainly played a great deal better than the other three girls, but she had no voice, and no knowledge of the harp – while Henrietta and Louisa played the harp as well as the pianoforte, and could sing as well as play.

Henrietta and Louisa had brought back from their school 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 her sisters-in-law as some of the happiest creatures she had ever known; they were also warm-hearted and affectionate. Anne might not have wished to exchange her own more elegant and cultivated mind for all their enjoyments; she had envied them nothing but that seemingly perfect good understanding and agreement together, that good-natured mutual affection, of which she had known so little herself with either of her sisters prior to her marriage. Now that she was married to their brother, however, she had been fully admitted to all their warm mutual affection. Henrietta and Louisa had always liked and admired Anne, had done all they could to promote their brother's courtship of her, and was well-disposed to be influenced by her, and to share in some of her more serious pursuits and interests as well as their usual enjoyments.

Regarding the Musgroves' other relatives, Charles Hayter was the eldest of the Hayter cousins, and a very amiable, pleasing young man, between whom and Henrietta there was a considerable appearance of attachment. He was in orders, and having a curacy in the neighbourhood where residence was not required, lived at his father's house, only two miles from Uppercross.

Mrs Musgrove and Mrs Hayter were sisters. They had each had money, but their marriages had made a material difference in their degree of consequence. Mr Hayter had property of his own, but it was insignificant compared with Mr Musgrove, and while the Musgroves were in the first class of society in the country, the young Hayters would, from their parents' inferior, retired and unpolished way of living, have been hardly in any class at all, but for their connexion with Uppercross. The eldest son however, had chosen to be a scholar and a gentleman, and was very superior in cultivation and manners to his parents.

The two families had always been on excellent terms, there being no pride on our side, and no envy on the other, and only such a consciousness of superiority in the Miss Musgroves, as made them pleased to improve their cousins. Charles Hayter's attentions to Henrietta had been observed by her father and mother without any disapprobation. "It would not be a great match for her, but if Henrietta really liked him" – and Henrietta did like him very much indeed.

When Mary was staying at Uppercross, she too had observed the apparent attachment between Henrietta and Charles Hayter, and she had soon spoken to Anne about it.

"Anne, don't you think that Henrietta is becoming a little too close to her cousin Charles Hayter – I mean, it could give him ideas, and surely Mr and Mrs Musgrove would not like such a match for their daughter – the eldest Miss Musgrove of Uppercross!"

"They know that it would not be a great match for her." Anne replied calmly, "but they would have no objection if she really cares for him."

"But Anne, do you mean to say that you yourself would not mind if – he would become your brother-in-law – good heavens, I can just imagine Elizabeth's horror at such a connexion with people like the Hayters!"

"I'm not Elizabeth, and I seldom share any of her opinions on many subjects."

"Well, I don't mean to say that I share all of Elizabeth's views either. But she would certainly be horrified if – what exactly is the value of the Hayter property of Winthrop, do you know?"

Charles Musgrove had entered the room in time to hear Mary's last question, he could guess what had prompted it, and took it upon himself to answer it.

"It is a very pretty property – the estate at Winthrop is not less than two hundred and fifty acres, besides the farm near Taunton, which is some of the best land in the country. Charles Hayter is a very good-natured, good sort of a fellow, and whenever Winthrop comes into his hand, he will make a different sort of place of it, and live in a very different sort of way, and with that property, he will never be a contemptible man. It is good freehold property; Henrietta might do worse than marry Charles Hayter."

Mary said no more, she did not wish to offend her brother-in-law – she always enjoyed her visits to Uppercross, where as the youngest Miss Elliot, as well as a relative, she was of much greater consequence, more thought of and attended to, than when she was at home with her self-absorbed father and selfish sister. Mary certainly did not wish to offend her hosts, since she wished to be frequently invited to stay at Uppercross. Mary was not quite as conceited as Elizabeth, and ever since Anne's marriage, under the combined influences of Lady Russell during the winter visits to Bath, and of Anne during the spring visits to Uppercross, she had become less conceited, less irritable and less demanding.

Mary therefore even agreed to accompany Anne when her sister decided to pay a morning call on Mrs Hayter a few days later, and she behaved quite civilly and properly to Mrs Hayter. Her only comment when they had first arrived at Winthrop, before entering the house, – it was an indifferent house, standing low, and to her eyes seemed to be hemmed in by the barns and buildings of a farm-yard, which appeared to be a little too close to the house for comfort – was:

"Oh, dear, well I certainly hope your Charles is right Anne, and that Charles Hayter will make improvements to the house, and remove that farm-yard a little away from it, when he comes into the property."

Henrietta and Charles Hayter soon came to an understanding – they were certainly in love with each other, but they knew that it would be imprudent to be married immediately, so they both agreed on a long engagement. Mr and Mrs Musgrove made no objections – the young couple had no difficulties to contend with at home – no caprice or opposition. The Musgroves were behaving like themselves, anxious only with true parental hearts to promote their daughter's comfort. They knew that Charles Hayter had a very fair chance, of obtaining some preferment from the Bishop in the course of a year or two – either a small living or at least a good curacy with a residence attached -- and in the meantime, Henrietta would be perfectly comfortable in her parents' home until she and her betrothed would be in a position to marry. Anne could not help comparing and contrasting the Musgroves' reaction to that of her own father over her unfortunate first attachment all those years ago. Not that she had anything to regret – as it turned out, everything had happened for the best; she was the happily married mother of two fine little boys, and her dear Charles was everything that she could have asked for in a husband. She was blessed in her marriage; Anne felt herself to be happier and more at home at Uppercross than she had ever been in her father's house at Kellynch, ever since her mother had passed on. But she was also glad, for her sister-in-law's sake, that Henrietta did not have to go through any frustration or disappointment over her engagement.

Anne was certainly far more valued by her husband, his parents, his sisters and even his young brothers, than she had been by her father and eldest sister. Her husband and father-in-law realized that she was a woman of real understanding, an intelligent and amiable woman of superior sense, and even consulted her as to the management of the Uppercross estate. Charles was increasingly taking on more and more of the responsibilities of the estate and its farms, and he always valued his wife's counsel and advice. The young squire and his wife became very well-known to the tenants of Uppercross, and well-liked by them. Anne's mother-in-law admired her management of the house, and the children; the servants all respected Mrs Charles Musgrove greatly, and Mrs Musgrove senior hoped that her own daughters would follow their sister-in-law's good example. Henrietta and Louisa quite looked upon Anne as their beloved eldest sister.

The estate of Uppercross prospered, and became quite equal to that of Kellynch – perhaps it was already more profitable than that of Kellynch, although Anne was not yet aware of some of the financial problems faced by her father due to his mismanagement of the Kellynch estate.

Charles Musgrove was civil and agreeable ... Anne could believe, with Lady Russell, that ... a woman of real understanding might have given more consequence to his character, and more usefulness, rationality, and elegance to his habits and pursuits (Persuasion, chapter 6).