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Page 16
Uppercross was a moderate-sized village, which a few years back
had been completely in the old English style, containing only
two houses superior in appearance 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; but upon the marriage of the young 'squire,
it had received the improvement of a farm-house elevated into a cottage,
for his residence, and Uppercross Cottage, with its veranda,
French windows, and other prettiness, was 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 farther on.
Here Anne had often been staying. She knew the ways of Uppercross
as well as those of Kellynch. The two families were so continually meeting,
so much in the habit of running in and out of each other's house
at all hours, that it was rather a surprise to her to find Mary alone;
but being alone, her being unwell and out of spirits was almost
a matter of course. Though better endowed than the elder sister,
Mary had not Anne's understanding nor temper. While well, and happy,
and properly attended to, she had great good humour and excellent spirits;
but any indisposition sunk her completely. She had no resources
for solitude; and inheriting a considerable share of the Elliot
self-importance, was very prone to add to every other distress
that of fancying herself neglected and ill-used. In person, she was
inferior to both sisters, and had, even in her bloom, only reached
the dignity of being "a fine girl." She was now lying on the faded sofa
of the pretty little drawing-room, the once elegant furniture of which
had been gradually growing shabby, under the influence of four summers
and two children; and, on Anne's appearing, greeted her with--
"So, you are come at last! I began to think I should never see you.
I am so ill I can hardly speak. I have not seen a creature
the whole morning!"
"I am sorry to find you unwell," replied Anne. "You sent me
such a good account of yourself on Thursday!"
"Yes, I made the best of it; I always do: but I was very far from well
at the time; and I do not think I ever was so ill in my life
as I have been all this morning: very unfit to be left alone, I am sure.
Suppose I were to be seized of a sudden in some dreadful way,
and not able to ring the bell! So, Lady Russell would not get out.
I do not think she has been in this house three times this summer."
Anne said what was proper, and enquired after her husband.
"Oh! Charles is out shooting. I have not seen him since seven o'clock.
He would go, though I told him how ill I was. He said he should not
stay out long; but he has never come back, and now it is almost one.
I assure you, I have not seen a soul this whole long morning."
"You have had your little boys with you?"
"Yes, as long as I could bear their noise; but they are so unmanageable
that they do me more harm than good. Little Charles does not mind
a word I say, and Walter is growing quite as bad."
"Well, you will soon be better now," replied Anne, cheerfully.
"You know I always cure you when I come. How are your neighbours
at the Great House?"
"I can give you no account of them. I have not seen one of them to-day,
except Mr Musgrove, who just stopped and spoke through the window,
but without getting off his horse; and though I told him how ill I was,
not one of them have been near me. It did not happen to suit
the Miss Musgroves, I suppose, and they never put themselves
out of their way."
"You will see them yet, perhaps, before the morning is gone.
It is early."
"I never want them, I assure you. They talk and laugh a great deal
too much for me. Oh! Anne, I am so very unwell! It was quite unkind
of you not to come on Thursday."
"My dear Mary, recollect what a comfortable account you sent me of yourself!
You wrote in the cheerfullest manner, and said you were perfectly well,
and in no hurry for me; and that being the case, you must be aware
that my wish would be to remain with Lady Russell to the last:
and besides what I felt on her account, I have really been so busy,
have had so much to do, that I could not very conveniently have
left Kellynch sooner."
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