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Page 99
Their first meeting in Milsom Street afforded much to be said,
but the concert still more. That evening seemed to be made up
of exquisite moments. The moment of her stepping forward
in the Octagon Room to speak to him: the moment of Mr Elliot's appearing
and tearing her away, and one or two subsequent moments,
marked by returning hope or increasing despondency, were dwelt on
with energy.
"To see you," cried he, "in the midst of those who could not be
my well-wishers; to see your cousin close by you, conversing and smiling,
and feel all the horrible eligibilities and proprieties of the match!
To consider it as the certain wish of every being who could hope
to influence you! Even if your own feelings were reluctant or indifferent,
to consider what powerful supports would be his! Was it not enough
to make the fool of me which I appeared? How could I look on
without agony? Was not the very sight of the friend who sat behind you,
was not the recollection of what had been, the knowledge of her influence,
the indelible, immoveable impression of what persuasion had once done--
was it not all against me?"
"You should have distinguished," replied Anne. "You should not have
suspected me now; the case is so different, and my age is so different.
If I was wrong in yielding to persuasion once, remember that
it was to persuasion exerted on the side of safety, not of risk.
When I yielded, I thought it was to duty, but no duty could be called
in aid here. In marrying a man indifferent to me, all risk
would have been incurred, and all duty violated."
"Perhaps I ought to have reasoned thus," he replied, "but I could not.
I could not derive benefit from the late knowledge I had acquired
of your character. I could not bring it into play; it was overwhelmed,
buried, lost in those earlier feelings which I had been smarting under
year after year. I could think of you only as one who had yielded,
who had given me up, who had been influenced by any one rather than by me.
I saw you with the very person who had guided you in that year of misery.
I had no reason to believe her of less authority now. The force of habit
was to be added."
"I should have thought," said Anne, "that my manner to yourself
might have spared you much or all of this."
"No, no! your manner might be only the ease which your engagement
to another man would give. I left you in this belief; and yet,
I was determined to see you again. My spirits rallied with the morning,
and I felt that I had still a motive for remaining here."
At last Anne was at home again, and happier than any one in that house
could have conceived. All the surprise and suspense, and every other
painful part of the morning dissipated by this conversation,
she re-entered the house so happy as to be obliged to find an alloy
in some momentary apprehensions of its being impossible to last.
An interval of meditation, serious and grateful, was the best corrective
of everything dangerous in such high-wrought felicity; and she went
to her room, and grew steadfast and fearless in the thankfulness
of her enjoyment.
The evening came, the drawing-rooms were lighted up, the company assembled.
It was but a card party, it was but a mixture of those who had
never met before, and those who met too often; a commonplace business,
too numerous for intimacy, too small for variety; but Anne had never found
an evening shorter. Glowing and lovely in sensibility and happiness,
and more generally admired than she thought about or cared for,
she had cheerful or forbearing feelings for every creature around her.
Mr Elliot was there; she avoided, but she could pity him.
The Wallises, she had amusement in understanding them. Lady Dalrymple
and Miss Carteret--they would soon be innoxious cousins to her.
She cared not for Mrs Clay, and had nothing to blush for in
the public manners of her father and sister. With the Musgroves,
there was the happy chat of perfect ease; with Captain Harville,
the kind-hearted intercourse of brother and sister; with Lady Russell,
attempts at conversation, which a delicious consciousness cut short;
with Admiral and Mrs Croft, everything of peculiar cordiality and
fervent interest, which the same consciousness sought to conceal;
and with Captain Wentworth, some moments of communications
continually occurring, and always the hope of more, and always
the knowledge of his being there.
It was in one of these short meetings, each apparently occupied
in admiring a fine display of greenhouse plants, that she said--
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