The night before Anne’s visit, the Musgroves vent their feelings about the Elliot family.
The Pooles, a very good family of old friends, lived two miles from the Great House, and so it was necessary for Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove to pick up Mary in their carriage for the dinner party on the Thursday evening. Charles went on horseback as a matter of course, while his father and mother sat together, their largeness quite filling the front seat, and the three girls crowded in the back. Louisa and Henrietta thought it all great fun, and laughed the whole way, but Mary resented not being given precedence as she was the last helped into the carriage, and the being crushed against her two young sisters in law was the final indignity. She was sulky the whole evening, which in truth was not so sparkling a social occasion as to be materially uninjured by a silent and sullen guest. However, every thing went off as usual, heavy food and heavy conversation relieved by the Miss Musgroves singing and a little dance got up amongst the young people.
It was not a late evening; Charles felt some compunction about bringing his unsociable wife home, to relieve the others of her presence, and perhaps also to soften the scolding that would fall to him if he did not give her this attention. A word in his mother’s ear had the carriage brought round without delay. The Miss Musgroves continued to laugh and talk about the evening, praising their own music, the dance, and the moonlight; but Mary said nothing, and she alighted from the carriage at Uppercross Cottage with barely a civil adieu to her mother in law.
As the carriage drove away, bringing the family the quarter mile from the Cottage to the Great House, Mary was, as might only be expected, roundly abused.
“Oh! Did you ever see such behavior,” exclaimed Louisa, “I declare Mary gets worse and worse, every day.”
“All she ever thinks about is herself,” Henrietta replied. “I warrant you, she will fancy herself ill tomorrow. All because riding three in a seat is not grand enough for her.”
“Such a temper! And why must she make the whole party miserable, instead of putting up with a small amount of discomfort for half-an-hour?”
“It was not even discomfort. I was perfectly comfortable, were not you, Louisa?”
“I am afraid it was our fault,” said Mrs. Musgrove, with compunction. “We are so very large, that we really can fit no one else in with us. It was the only solution; and I am very sorry that our size makes people uncomfortable.”
“Oh! Mama!” cried Louisa and Henrietta together, and the latter added, “How can you think such a thing, my dear mother? We were so very comfortable, and I vouch for it Mary was too.”
“It is only that she is angry because Charles does not have a carriage of his own,” said Louisa. “She thinks they deserve one, with the Elliot arms emblazoned.”
“I cannot afford to give them one this year, my dears,” Mr. Musgrove remarked mildly. “I have told Charles so, and he understands very well. There have been too many calls upon my income; and Mrs. Charles will have to wait for her carriage.”
“And besides, Louisa, she could not have the Elliot arms; could she? She is a Musgrove now.”
“More’s the pity. I do get so tired of Mary, and her pride, the Elliot pride. Oh, that Charles had married Anne instead!”
“Now, Louisa, why talk about the impossible,” her mother chided. “You know Anne refused him, and that is that; we must make the best of things, and Mary is not so bad. She can be good tempered now and then. It is hard having little ones, and I believe another one is expecting, though she does not say so. And she does not keep as active as she ought. If she were up instead of lying upon the sofa all the time, I am persuaded her health would be better.”
“At least, Anne arrives tomorrow.” Louisa brightened at the thought. “Lady Russell is to drop her off on her way to town. Only think! We will have Anne for at least two months.”
“Every thing goes on better when Miss Anne is about,” Mrs. Musgrove agreed. “We may be able to put her in the way of persuading Mary to behave herself more reasonably.”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Mama,” said Henrietta with something like a snort.
“We must remember one thing, while Miss Anne is here, girls. To be very careful not to speak of her father’s bankruptcy. Only think how ashamed she must be! We must be very delicate before her.”
“Sir Walter is not bankrupt, my love,” put in Mr. Musgrove, “From what I hear from my own man of business, Shepherd says it is a matter of retrenchment, and that seven years living in more modest circumstances, and renting out Kellynch, will clear the debts. It is not more than many gentlemen in like case have been forced to do.”
“It is quite a disgrace, all the same,” nodded his wife. “If it has not the name of bankruptcy, to have debts amounting to so much that you must give up your own house, and one that has been in the family for generations, is something that I have never heard of. Sure, Sir Walter must have been very extravagant.”
“You know he is quite a proverb for it, indeed, Mama. He thinks of nothing but dress, and table, and fanciful expenditures – him and Elizabeth.”
“Well, we may be glad of one thing,” said Louisa with a laugh.
“What is that, sister?”
“Why, that Charles did not marry Elizabeth!”
Both girls were unable to stifle their laughter, and Mrs. Musgrove could not conceal a smile herself, though she said, “Hush, hush. Do behave yourselves, girls. And you will promise me to behave, when you see Anne, will you not?”
Louisa was serious at once. “Of course we will, Mama. Anne is a dear girl and we should not think of hurting her feelings. It is not her fault that her father is so horrid.”
“A very foolish man,” said Mr. Musgrove calmly. “All pride and pomatum, and no sense.”
“I do hope that Miss Anne can be settled properly, in the next twelvemonth or so. She is full seven and twenty, I believe, and I have never heard of her having any prospects, other than Charles of course. It is a great shame,” said Mrs. Musgrove, whose mind ran on marriage prospects a good deal.
“I hope so, but there is no one hereabouts for her. Perhaps she will meet someone in Bath. Oh, Mama, if only we can to go to Bath this winter! Do not you think we can?”
“We may be able to manage it,” said Mr. Musgrove, “as long as you girls do not tease me about it.”
“We won’t, Papa, we promise. I wonder what sort of rooms the Elliots will take in Bath?”
“Probably better ones than they can afford. It does not speak well for Sir Walter’s reformation,” their father replied dryly.
“Another thing that does not speak well is their having taken that Mrs. Clay with them,” his wife pointed out.
“Oh! She is perfectly abominable, a little, scheming, ugly woman,” said Henrietta. “Do you remember, the last time we visited the Elliots, Elizabeth treated her just exactly as a sister?”
“She did, Henrietta – and she does not treat her real sister, Anne, as a sister at all. Oh! I am so glad we are not like that, but are good friends, as sisters ought to be!”
“To be sure we are,” returned Henrietta with a smile.
“Yes, the way things are in that family, is extremely unfortunate and disordered,” observed Mrs. Musgrove, “and so, my dears, we must all be very nice to Anne.”
“We will, Mama. I do hope that odious Mrs. Clay does not marry Sir Walter,” said Louisa. “I declare that woman has him and Elizabeth wrapped around her little finger. Oh, here we are, at home! How glad I am to be home! I would not want to be like poor Anne, for the world.”
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Delightful!
Thank you so much, Martha! 🙂
It was so nice to see that Anne is actually cared about by the elder Musgroves, Diana. I love that they see through the Elliotts and Mrs. Clay. They seem to genuinely care about Anne, which is so wonderful. I wonder how they will view Anne’s and Wentworth’s reactions to one another and interpret their interactions. The Musgrovea take Mary as the lesser of 2 evils, which she is, when compared to Elizabeth. But, she’s not Anne. Thank you for such a delightful (as Martha Claycomb stated ) piece of writing. I enjoyed it very much. It made me smile and endeared me to the elder Musgroves.
Thank you, Deborah, I’m so glad you enjoyed it! I would guess that most of the neighborhood knows exactly what to think about Sir Walter and Elizabeth, don’t you think?
Most definitely and that they truly appreciate Anne and have a fondnessbfor her. 🙂
Yes, ‘delightful’ was the first word coming to my mind too!
Really enjoyed this, Diana, as always when you write! Loved how you captured each of the characters so well. I too feel comforted to know Anne has some who love her and that she will get to spend time with them to counterbalance the demands of Mary’s moods!
Such praise really means a lot, Cassandra, especially since I am still savoring the beauty of your own last post!
You’re too kind, Diana! (But thank you for saying such a lovely thing!)
I agree – it’s delightful! I love how these little background scenes add such richness to the story. Thanks, Diana!
Thank you, Susan – and SO much for the tech support, I think my computer is bewitched! Maybe Mrs. Clay got her hands on it!
Ooh, that Mary! Why did Charles marry her???? The Musgroves would have been such lovely in-laws for Anne, if only…. well, if Anne could be cloned… or if Charles could leave Anne as a young widow… sigh…
Thank you for the visit! You wrote so well that I suffered through the bits with sulky Mary.
Thank you, June! My theory is that poor Mary suffered from her childbirths. She might have had something like a prolapsed uterus or torn tissue and there was no way to treat her then. She might have been a likeable enough young woman when she and Charles were courting!
Poor Anne, How did someone so good come from this family. Mary is too much. Here in the South we would be discussing 2X4s and an application to Mary’s head. Mary is as spoiled as Elizabeth but probably had to be “ill” to get attention. Especially if she wasn’t as pretty as Elizabeth. She would have been very young when her mother died and probably didn’t have the benefit of Lady Russell. I want to feel sorry for her because she is in a tough position but still she is making it worse if her in-laws are so vocal. Amazing also that the Elizabeth and Sir Walter are the only ones that don’t see through Mrs. Clay. Shows how much they are ego driven. Great piece!
Thanks, Maggie, glad you enjoyed my imaginings about the Elliots! You are making me think more about Mary, and I think it’s possible to feel sorry for her. Just think what a sad and lonely childhood she must have had. Her kind mother dying when she was quite young, her father such a selfish idiot, Elizabeth not filling a motherly role but caring nothing for her, and Anne was away at school. Jane Austen said that Anne was a heroine who was “almost too perfect for her,” but although she is very obliging to Mary now, we don’t get the sense that she ever did very much for her as an older sister, when Mary was growing up, and there is not a real closeness between them now. Perhaps if Anne had been more caring to Mary when they were young, Mary might not have grown up to be such a pill? Just speculating…
Ooh, now that’s a good plot bunny! I hope you get a chance to write it.
Oh yes, June! I’m scheduled to write “Mary Musgrove’s Complaint” next week! 🙂
I’m loving this ‘insight’ into the characters! I always wondered if half of Mary’s problems were the emotional neglect of her family and then being the ‘second choice’ of Charles (if she ever knew that, I’m not sure but she may have ‘overheard conversation?). The insecurities of growing up under such a constant flow of the ‘great consequence’ of the Elliots and trying to find her place in it. Mind you, it doesn’t excuse her behaviour, but it would go a long way in understanding why she feels the need to act the way she does. I think Anne understands that and is more empathetic and cajoling of her, tiring as it may be.
Thanks, Carole, for your insights about Mary. Certainly growing up in the Elliot household, as the “least and last” – and in Sir Walter’s eyes, the plainest – would be damaging indeed. She actually reminds me of my runt cat, the smallest and most physically inferior of a litter of three. She grew up sort of whiny and needy out of a need to assert herself. Fortunately little Tully is adored and loved in our household, but even though Charles is a nice fellow and a decent husband, he doesn’t really understand Mary or her feelings of inferiority and neglect. He’s terribly patient, putting up with her, but it isn’t enough to change the way she is…if that’s even possible!
Well, it is so nice to hear that at least there are some like the Musgroves who likes Anne for who she is and treat her with respect. unlike how she is treated in her own family circle. I really enjoyed learning the honest and true opinion of Mr and Mrs Musgrove and their two daughters on the unfortunate circumstances that had befallen Sir Walter. And they too can see through Mrs Clay’s intentions.
Thanks, Mary. I may have overdone it about the Musgroves liking Anne, since in Persuasion they don’t really pay her much attention; but they’re generally benevolent. And they certainly see through Mrs. Clay! Jane Austen tells us that everybody does, except Sir Walter and Elizabeth!
Luthien, sorry I called you MARY! LOL. You can see I have Mary Musgrove on my brain!
It’s ok, Diana. I can’t wait to read your next piece for this project.
I felt relieved reading about the Musgroves — finally a “normal” family with some sensible perceptions of things! I was heartened to find some characters that valued Anne, in spite of her awful family. It’s true that Mary should be thankful she doesn’t continue to live at home with her vain and selfish father and eldest sibling — she could have so much to be grateful for in her marriage. Maybe it is some kind of illness that makes her so peevish all the time. Thank you for the entertaining chapter!
Yes, the Musgroves are kind of a relief after the awful Elliots, aren’t they, Kathy! I must say I feel I’m getting to know and have more sympathy for Mary, in examining her. I’m doing another story about her next week so we’ll see where that takes us…
Wonderful! As always, your characterisations are spot on-another lovely episode!
Thank you dearest Jane. I am DROOLING over your Diamonds theme – oh what a genius idea! Wish I’d got there first! Maybe I could do Romance and Rhinestones…
Part of me wants to feel sorry for Mary and the only way I can is to make excuses fof her during her early upbringing. With a most kind sister away at school, an older egotistic, narcissistic sister and father, I’d say she was left to the housekeeper (did they ever have a governess? I think not.) Mary adopted the ways of her father &Elizabeth, she had no other guidance as to how to think and act. Mores the pity. I thoroughly enjoy what you’ve done so far. You have given so much more depth to my favorite Austen novel,
Linda, what a lovely thing to say, thank you so much! You know, I’m really thinking that Mary truly was neglected, to the point off what we’d call abuse. She is never seen to interact with her father and sister. She is the plainest of the girls and you know what that means to her father. If Anne was “only Anne” to him, think what Mary must have been. Less! Interestingly, the only time he speaks of her he says she has a red nose. (Perhaps from crying!). When Mary comes to Bath, she is in very good spirits, and why? Because of her “independence from Camden Place.” And her sister doesn’t even invite her to dinner. Whew. Isn’t it amazing how Austen actually gives us all these details so economically, without seeming to do it at all!
It’s nice to see other people appreciate Anne and the Musgrove’s appear to be a bit more insightful than they at first seem. Poor Mary, want to pity her for being left motherless at such a young age and left in the care of Sir Walter and Elizabeth but Anne was in a similar situation and she rose above this to become the fine young lady she is.
Stephanie, true, but Anne did have a few more advantages than Mary. She knew and was loved and supported by her mother for a few more years than Mary did. She had the affection and esteem of Lady Russell, who felt that “only in Anne did the mother seem to revive again.” Mary had nothing and nobody. She was really neglected, and when she uses the word herself, we laugh, because the Musgroves and Charles certainly are not neglecting her – but she is harking back to that neglected feeling she has had all her life, poor thing!
This episode is perfect – exactly how I think the Musgroves viewed the Elliots. I seem to remember that when the Musgroves came to Bath they told Charles that he would have to get tickets to a play (?) for a different night due to the fact that Anne could not attend the night for which he originally had secured tickets. And then the scene during the long walk the sisters took with Charles, Mary, Anne and Captain Wentworth during which Anne overheard Louise relate to the captain how everyone wished Charles had marries Anne instead of Mary. So this scene perfectly reinforces how the Musgroves felt about Mary and Anne. Well done.