persuasion(劝导)-第17节
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knew how； it ended in Charles’s being to meet him to breakfast at
his father’s。
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Anne understood it。 He wished to avoid seeing her。 He had
inquired after her； she found； slightly； as might suit a former slight
acquaintance； seeming to acknowledge such as she had
acknowledged； actuated； perhaps； by the same view of escaping
introduction when they were to meet。
The morning hours of the Cottage were always later than those
of the other house； and on the morrow the difference was so great
that Mary and Anne were not more than beginning breakfast
when Charles came in to say that they were just setting off； that he
was come for his dogs； that his sisters were following with Captain
Wentworth； his sisters meaning to visit Mary and the child； and
Captain Wentworth proposing also to wait on her for a few
minutes if not inconvenient； and though Charles had answered for
the child’s being in no such state as could make it inconvenient；
Captain Wentworth would not be satisfied without his running on
to give notice。
Mary； very much gratified by this attention； was delighted to
receive him； while a thousand feelings rushed on Anne； of which
this was the most consoling； that it would soon be over。 And it was
soon over。 In two minutes after Charles’s preparation； the others
appeared； they were in the drawing…room。 Her eye half met
Captain Wentworth’s； a bow； a curtsey passed； she heard his
voice—he talked to Mary； said all that was right； said something to
the Miss Musgroves； enough to mark an easy footing： the room
seemed full； full of persons and voices—but a few minutes ended
it。 Charles shewed himself at the window； all was ready； their
visitor had bowed and was gone； the Miss Musgroves were gone
too； suddenly resolving to walk to the end of the village with the
sportsmen： the room was cleared； and Anne might finish her
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breakfast as she could。
“It is over！ it is over！” she repeated to herself again and again；
in nervous gratitude。 “The worst is over！”
Mary talked； but she could not attend。 She had seen him。 They
had met。 They had been once more in the same room。
Soon； however； she began to reason with herself； and try to be
feeling less。 Eight years； almost eight years had passed； since all
had been given up。 How absurd to be resuming the agitation
which such an interval had banished into distance and
indistinctness！ What might not eight years do？ Events of every
description； changes； alienations； removals—all； all must be
comprised in it； and oblivion of the past—how natural； how certain
too！ It included nearly a third part of her own life。
Alas！ with all her reasoning； she found； that to retentive feelings
eight years may be little more than nothing。
Now； how were his sentiments to be read？ Was this like wishing
to avoid her？ And the next moment she was hating herself for the
folly which asked the question。
On one other question which perhaps her utmost wisdom might
not have prevented； she was soon spared all suspense； for； after
the Miss Musgroves had returned and finished their visit at the
Cottage she had this spontaneous information from Mary：
“Captain Wentworth is not very gallant by you； Anne； though
he was so attentive to me。 Henrietta asked him what he thought of
you； when they went away； and he said； ‘You were so altered he
should not have known you again。’”
Mary had no feelings to make her respect her sister’s in a
common way； but she was perfectly unsuspicious of being
inflicting any peculiar wound。
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“Altered beyond his knowledge。” Anne fully submitted； in
silent； deep mortification。 Doubtless it was so； and she could take
no revenge； for he was not altered； or not for the worse。 She had
already acknowledged it to herself； and she could not think
differently； let him think of her as he would。 No： the years which
had destroyed her youth and bloom had only given him a more
glowing； manly； open look； in no respect lessening his personal
advantages。 She had seen the same Frederick Wentworth。
“So altered that he should not have known her again！” These
were words which could not but dwell with her。 Yet she soon
began to rejoice that she had heard them。 They were of sobering
tendency； they allayed agitation； they composed； and consequently
must make her happier。
Frederick Wentworth had used such words； or something like
them； but without an idea that they would be carried round to her。
He had thought her wretchedly altered； and in the first moment of
appeal； had spoken as he felt。 He had not forgiven Anne Elliot。 She
had used him ill； deserted and disappointed him； and worse； she
had shewn a feebleness of character in doing so； which his own
decided； confident temper could not endure。 She had given him
up to oblige others。 It had been the effect of over…persuasion。 It
had been weakness and timidity。
He had been most warmly attached to her； and had never seen
a woman since whom he thought her equal； but； except from some
natural sensation of curiosity； he had no desire of meeting her
again。 Her power with him was gone for ever。
It was now his object to marry。 He was rich； and being turned
on shore； fully intended to settle as soon as he could be properly
tempted； actually looking round； ready to fall in love with all the
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speed which a clear head and a quick taste could allow。 He had a
heart for either of the Miss Musgroves； if they could catch it； a
heart； in short； for any pleasing young woman who came in his
way； excepting Anne Elliot。 This was his only secret exception；
when he said to his sister； in answer to her suppositions；
“Yes； here I am； Sophia； quite ready to make a foolish match。
Any body between fifteen and thirty may have me for asking。 A
little beauty； and a few smiles； and a few compliments to the navy；
and I am a lost man。 Should not this be enough for a sailor； who
has had no society among women to make him nice？”
He said it； she knew； to be contradicted。 His bright proud eye
spoke the conviction that he was nice； and Anne Elliot was not out
of his thoughts； when he more seriously described the woman he
should wish to meet with。 “A strong mind； with sweetness of
manner；” made the first and the last of the description。
“That is the woman I want；” said he。 “Something a little inferior
I shall of course put up with； but it must not be much。 If I am a
fool； I shall be a fool indeed； for I have thought on the subject more
than most men。”
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CHAPTER VIII
rom this time Captain Wentworth and Anne Elliot were
Frepeatedly in the same circle。 They were soon dining in
company together at Mr。 Musgrove’s； for the little boy’s
state could no longer supply his aunt with a pretence for absenting
herself； and this was but the beginning of other dinings and other
