<h3> Chapter 12 </h3>
<p>Anne and Henrietta, finding themselves the earliest of the party
the next morning, agreed to stroll down to the sea before breakfast.
They went to the sands, to watch the flowing of the tide,
which a fine south-easterly breeze was bringing in with all the grandeur
which so flat a shore admitted. They praised the morning;
gloried in the sea; sympathized in the delight of the fresh-feeling
breeze--and were silent; till Henrietta suddenly began again with--</p>
<p>"Oh! yes,--I am quite convinced that, with very few exceptions,
the sea-air always does good. There can be no doubt of its having been
of the greatest service to Dr Shirley, after his illness,
last spring twelve-month. He declares himself, that coming to Lyme
for a month, did him more good than all the medicine he took;
and, that being by the sea, always makes him feel young again.
Now, I cannot help thinking it a pity that he does not live
entirely by the sea. I do think he had better leave Uppercross entirely,
and fix at Lyme. Do not you, Anne? Do not you agree with me,
that it is the best thing he could do, both for himself and Mrs Shirley?
She has cousins here, you know, and many acquaintance, which would
make it cheerful for her, and I am sure she would be glad
to get to a place where she could have medical attendance at hand,
in case of his having another seizure. Indeed I think it quite melancholy
to have such excellent people as Dr and Mrs Shirley, who have been
doing good all their lives, wearing out their last days in a place
like Uppercross, where, excepting our family, they seem shut out
from all the world. I wish his friends would propose it to him.
I really think they ought. And, as to procuring a dispensation,
there could be no difficulty at his time of life, and with his character.
My only doubt is, whether anything could persuade him to leave his parish.
He is so very strict and scrupulous in his notions; over-scrupulous
I must say. Do not you think, Anne, it is being over-scrupulous?
Do not you think it is quite a mistaken point of conscience,
when a clergyman sacrifices his health for the sake of duties,
which may be just as well performed by another person? And at Lyme too,
only seventeen miles off, he would be near enough to hear,
if people thought there was anything to complain of."</p>
<p>Anne smiled more than once to herself during this speech,
and entered into the subject, as ready to do good by entering into
the feelings of a young lady as of a young man, though here it was good
of a lower standard, for what could be offered but general acquiescence?
She said all that was reasonable and proper on the business;
felt the claims of Dr Shirley to repose as she ought; saw how very
desirable it was that he should have some active, respectable young man,
as a resident curate, and was even courteous enough to hint at
the advantage of such resident curate's being married.</p>
<p>"I wish," said Henrietta, very well pleased with her companion,
"I wish Lady Russell lived at Uppercross, and were intimate
with Dr Shirley. I have always heard of Lady Russell as a woman of
the greatest influence with everybody! I always look upon her as able
to persuade a person to anything! I am afraid of her, as I have
told you before, quite afraid of her, because she is so very clever;
but I respect her amazingly, and wish we had such a neighbour
<p>Anne was amused by Henrietta's manner of being grateful,
and amused also that the course of events and the new interests
of Henrietta's views should have placed her friend at all in favour
with any of the Musgrove family; she had only time, however,
for a general answer, and a wish that such another woman
were at Uppercross, before all subjects suddenly ceased,
on seeing Louisa and Captain Wentworth coming towards them.
They came also for a stroll till breakfast was likely to be ready;
but Louisa recollecting, immediately afterwards that she had something
to procure at a shop, invited them all to go back with her into the town.
They were all at her disposal.</p>
<p>When they came to the steps, leading upwards from the beach, a gentleman,
at the same moment preparing to come down, politely drew back,
and stopped to give them way. They ascended and passed him;
and as they passed, Anne's face caught his eye, and he looked at her
with a degree of earnest admiration, which she could not be insensible of.
She was looking remarkably well; her very regular, very pretty features,
having the bloom and freshness of youth restored by the fine wind
which had been blowing on her complexion, and by the animation of eye
which it had also produced. It was evident that the gentleman,
(completely a gentleman in manner) admired her exceedingly.
Captain Wentworth looked round at her instantly in a way which
shewed his noticing of it. He gave her a momentary glance,
a glance of brightness, which seemed to say, "That man is struck with you,
and even I, at this moment, see something like Anne Elliot again."</p>
<p>After attending Louisa through her business, and loitering about
a little longer, they returned to the inn; and Anne, in passing afterwards
quickly from her own chamber to their dining-room, had nearly run against
the very same gentleman, as he came out of an adjoining apartment.
She had before conjectured him to be a stranger like themselves,
and determined that a well-looking groom, who was strolling about
near the two inns as they came back, should be his servant.
Both master and man being in mourning assisted the idea.
It was now proved that he belonged to the same inn as themselves;
and this second meeting, short as it was, also proved again
by the gentleman's looks, that he thought hers very lovely,
and by the readiness and propriety of his apologies, that he was
a man of exceedingly good manners. He seemed about thirty,
and though not handsome, had an agreeable person. Anne felt that
she should like to know who he was.</p>
<p>They had nearly done breakfast, when the sound of a carriage,
(almost the first they had heard since entering Lyme) drew half the party
to the window. It was a gentleman's carriage, a curricle,
but only coming round from the stable-yard to the front door;
somebody must be going away. It was driven by a servant in mourning.</p>
<p>The word curricle made Charles Musgrove jump up that he might
compare it with his own; the servant in mourning roused Anne's curiosity,
and the whole six were collected to look, by the time the owner
of the curricle was to be seen issuing from the door amidst the bows
and civilities of the household, and taking his seat, to drive off.</p>
<p>"Ah!" cried Captain Wentworth, instantly, and with half a glance at Anne,
"it is the very man we passed."</p>
<p>The Miss Musgroves agreed to it; and having all kindly watched him
as far up the hill as they could, they returned to the breakfast table.
The waiter came into the room soon afterwards.</p>
<p>"Pray," said Captain Wentworth, immediately, "can you tell us the name
of the gentleman who is just gone away?"</p>
<p>"Yes, Sir, a Mr Elliot, a gentleman of large fortune, came in last night
from Sidmouth. Dare say you heard the carriage, sir, while you were
at dinner; and going on now for Crewkherne, in his way to Bath
<p>"Elliot!" Many had looked on each other, and many had repeated the name,
before all this had been got through, even by the smart rapidity
of a waiter.</p>
<p>"Bless me!" cried Mary; "it must be our cousin; it must be our Mr Elliot,
it must, indeed! Charles, Anne, must not it? In mourning, you see,
just as our Mr Elliot must be. How very extraordinary!
In the very same inn with us! Anne, must not it be our Mr Elliot?
my father's next heir? Pray sir," turning to the waiter,
"did not you hear, did not his servant say whether he belonged
to the Kellynch family?"</p>
<p>"No, ma'am, he did not mention no particular family; but he said
his master was a very rich gentleman, and would be a baronight some day."</p>
<p>"There! you see!" cried Mary in an ecstasy, "just as I said!
Heir to Sir Walter Elliot! I was sure that would come out,
if it was so. Depend upon it, that is a circumstance which his servants
take care to publish, wherever he goes. But, Anne, only conceive
how extraordinary! I wish I had looked at him more. I wish we had
been aware in time, who it was, that he might have been introduced to us.
What a pity that we should not have been introduced to each other!
Do you think he had the Elliot countenance? I hardly looked at him,
I was looking at the horses; but I think he had something
of the Elliot countenance, I wonder the arms did not strike me!
Oh! the great-coat was hanging over the panel, and hid the arms,
so it did; otherwise, I am sure, I should have observed them,
and the livery too; if the servant had not been in mourning,
one should have known him by the livery."</p>
<p>"Putting all these very extraordinary circumstances together,"
said Captain Wentworth, "we must consider it to be the arrangement
of Providence, that you should not be introduced to your cousin."</p>
<p>When she could command Mary's attention, Anne quietly tried
to convince her that their father and Mr Elliot had not, for many years,
been on such terms as to make the power of attempting an introduction
at all desirable.</p>
<p>At the same time, however, it was a secret gratification to herself
to have seen her cousin, and to know that the future owner of Kellynch
was undoubtedly a gentleman, and had an air of good sense.
She would not, upon any account, mention her having met with him
the second time; luckily Mary did not much attend to their having
passed close by him in their earlier walk, but she would have felt
quite ill-used by Anne's having actually run against him in the passage,
and received his very polite excuses, while she had never been
near him at all; no, that cousinly little interview must remain
a perfect secret.</p>
<p>"Of course," said Mary, "you will mention our seeing Mr Elliot,
the next time you write to Bath. I think my father certainly
ought to hear of it; do mention all about him."</p>
<p>Anne avoided a direct reply, but it was just the circumstance
which she considered as not merely unnecessary to be communicated,
but as what ought to be suppressed. The offence which had been given
her father, many years back, she knew; Elizabeth's particular share in it
she suspected; and that Mr Elliot's idea always produced irritation in both
was beyond a doubt. Mary never wrote to Bath herself; all the toil
of keeping up a slow and unsatisfactory correspondence with Elizabeth
fell on Anne.</p>
<p>Breakfast had not been long over, when they were joined by Captain
and Mrs Harville and Captain Benwick; with whom they had appointed
to take their last walk about Lyme. They ought to be setting off
for Uppercross by one, and in the mean while were to be all together,
and out of doors as long as they could.</p>
<p>Anne found Captain Benwick getting near her, as soon as they were all
fairly in the street. Their conversation the preceding evening
did not disincline him to seek her again; and they walked together
some time, talking as before of Mr Scott and Lord Byron,
and still as unable as before, and as unable as any other two readers,
to think exactly alike of the merits of either, till something
occasioned an almost general change amongst their party, and instead of
Captain Benwick, she had Captain Harville by her side.</p>
<p>"Miss Elliot," said he, speaking rather low, "you have done a good deed
in making that poor fellow talk so much. I wish he could have
such company oftener. It is bad for him, I know, to be shut up as he is;
but what can we do? We cannot part."</p>
<p>"No," said Anne, "that I can easily believe to be impossible;
but in time, perhaps--we know what time does in every case of affliction,
and you must remember, Captain Harville, that your friend
may yet be called a young mourner--only last summer, I understand."</p>
<p>"Ay, true enough," (with a deep sigh) "only June."</p>
<p>"And not known to him, perhaps, so soon."</p>
<p>"Not till the first week of August, when he came home from the Cape,
just made into the Grappler. I was at Plymouth dreading to hear of him;
he sent in letters, but the Grappler was under orders for Portsmouth.
There the news must follow him, but who was to tell it? not I.
I would as soon have been run up to the yard-arm. Nobody could do it,
but that good fellow" (pointing to Captain Wentworth.) "The Laconia
had come into Plymouth the week before; no danger of her
being sent to sea again. He stood his chance for the rest;
wrote up for leave of absence, but without waiting the return,
travelled night and day till he got to Portsmouth, rowed off
to the Grappler that instant, and never left the poor fellow for a week.
That's what he did, and nobody else could have saved poor James.
You may think, Miss Elliot, whether he is dear to us!"</p>
<p>Anne did think on the question with perfect decision, and said as much
in reply as her own feeling could accomplish, or as his seemed
able to bear, for he was too much affected to renew the subject,
and when he spoke again, it was of something totally different.</p>
<p>Mrs Harville's giving it as her opinion that her husband would have
quite walking enough by the time he reached home, determined the direction
of all the party in what was to be their last walk; they would
accompany them to their door, and then return and set off themselves.
By all their calculations there was just time for this; but as they drew
near the Cobb, there was such a general wish to walk along it once more,
all were so inclined, and Louisa soon grew so determined,
that the difference of a quarter of an hour, it was found,
would be no difference at all; so with all the kind leave-taking,
and all the kind interchange of invitations and promises which
may be imagined, they parted from Captain and Mrs Harville
at their own door, and still accompanied by Captain Benwick,
who seemed to cling to them to the last, proceeded to make
the proper adieus to the Cobb.</p>
<p>Anne found Captain Benwick again drawing near her. Lord Byron's
"dark blue seas" could not fail of being brought forward by
their present view, and she gladly gave him all her attention as long as
attention was possible. It was soon drawn, perforce another way.</p>
<p>There was too much wind to make the high part of the new Cobb pleasant
for the ladies, and they agreed to get down the steps to the lower,
and all were contented to pass quietly and carefully down the steep flight,
excepting Louisa; she must be jumped down them by Captain Wentworth.
In all their walks, he had had to jump her from the stiles;
the sensation was delightful to her. The hardness of the pavement
for her feet, made him less willing upon the present occasion;
he did it, however. She was safely down, and instantly,
to show her enjoyment, ran up the steps to be jumped down again.
He advised her against it, thought the jar too great; but no,
he reasoned and talked in vain, she smiled and said, "I am determined
I will:" he put out his hands; she was too precipitate by half a second,
she fell on the pavement on the Lower Cobb, and was taken up lifeless!
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