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Page 77
A few minutes, though as few as possible, were inevitably consumed;
and when her own mistress again, when able to turn and look
as she had done before, she found herself accosted by Captain Wentworth,
in a reserved yet hurried sort of farewell. "He must wish her good night;
he was going; he should get home as fast as he could."
"Is not this song worth staying for?" said Anne, suddenly struck
by an idea which made her yet more anxious to be encouraging.
"No!" he replied impressively, "there is nothing worth my staying for;"
and he was gone directly.
Jealousy of Mr Elliot! It was the only intelligible motive.
Captain Wentworth jealous of her affection! Could she have believed it
a week ago; three hours ago! For a moment the gratification was exquisite.
But, alas! there were very different thoughts to succeed.
How was such jealousy to be quieted? How was the truth to reach him?
How, in all the peculiar disadvantages of their respective situations,
would he ever learn of her real sentiments? It was misery to think
of Mr Elliot's attentions. Their evil was incalculable.
Chapter 21
Anne recollected with pleasure the next morning her promise
of going to Mrs Smith, meaning that it should engage her from home
at the time when Mr Elliot would be most likely to call; for to avoid
Mr Elliot was almost a first object.
She felt a great deal of good-will towards him. In spite of
the mischief of his attentions, she owed him gratitude and regard,
perhaps compassion. She could not help thinking much of the extraordinary
circumstances attending their acquaintance, of the right which
he seemed to have to interest her, by everything in situation,
by his own sentiments, by his early prepossession. It was altogether
very extraordinary; flattering, but painful. There was much to regret.
How she might have felt had there been no Captain Wentworth in the case,
was not worth enquiry; for there was a Captain Wentworth;
and be the conclusion of the present suspense good or bad,
her affection would be his for ever. Their union, she believed,
could not divide her more from other men, than their final separation.
Prettier musings of high-wrought love and eternal constancy,
could never have passed along the streets of Bath, than Anne
was sporting with from Camden Place to Westgate Buildings.
It was almost enough to spread purification and perfume all the way.
She was sure of a pleasant reception; and her friend seemed this morning
particularly obliged to her for coming, seemed hardly to have expected her,
though it had been an appointment.
An account of the concert was immediately claimed; and Anne's recollections
of the concert were quite happy enough to animate her features
and make her rejoice to talk of it. All that she could tell
she told most gladly, but the all was little for one who had been there,
and unsatisfactory for such an enquirer as Mrs Smith, who had
already heard, through the short cut of a laundress and a waiter,
rather more of the general success and produce of the evening
than Anne could relate, and who now asked in vain for several particulars
of the company. Everybody of any consequence or notoriety in Bath
was well know by name to Mrs Smith.
"The little Durands were there, I conclude," said she, "with their mouths
open to catch the music, like unfledged sparrows ready to be fed.
They never miss a concert."
"Yes; I did not see them myself, but I heard Mr Elliot say they were
in the room."
"The Ibbotsons, were they there? and the two new beauties,
with the tall Irish officer, who is talked of for one of them."
"I do not know. I do not think they were."
"Old Lady Mary Maclean? I need not ask after her. She never misses,
I know; and you must have seen her. She must have been in your own circle;
for as you went with Lady Dalrymple, you were in the seats of grandeur,
round the orchestra, of course."
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