Captain Wentworth had not been above four or five times in the Miss Musgroves’ company, and Charles Hayter had but just reappeared, when Anne had to listen to the opinions of her brother and sister, as to which was the one liked best. Charles gave it for Louisa, Mary for Henrietta, but quite agreeing that to have him marry either would be extremely delightful.
I
Anne had a headache. She was only too conscious of the many circumstances which might have had occasioned this, though her companions in the after-dinner chat at Uppercross Cottage were not in the least aware of them. Her sister Mary did not think of Anne’s health at all, so occupied was she with her own; and Charles Musgrove, though he did notice Anne looking somewhat wan, imputed it to her care for their injured child.
Charles and Mary were both in great good humour, coming in from a dinner at the Great House which had given both much food for thought as well as for body. Anne had declined the invitation, knowing Captain Wentworth was at Uppercross, and sitting every morning with the Musgrove girls; she hoped to avoid pain at the sight, but instead her imaginings had been worse than the reality, and her agitation had resulted in the headache which now had her lain on the couch that was usually Mary’s own possession in the evenings.
But Mary this evening had something to think about, and talk of. During the whole course of the dinner, a handsome feast laid out in great style, she had opportunity to observe the handsome Captain’s behavior toward her two sisters-in-law, and she was decided in which one had the preference. Henrietta, she was sure, had put her unworthy cousin Charles Hayter out of her head and was entirely in love with Captain Wentworth, who was certainly falling in love with her too, as rapidly as possible. She told Anne this in exulting tones, and was so excited at the prospect of Captain Wentworth for Henrietta, that she did not notice the entire lack of enthusiasm in Anne’s quiet answer.
Charles walked from the window, out of which he had been staring, in exasperation. “Mary, do not say what is not so,” he told his wife. “I have told you again and again, the whole time we were walking back, that Captain Wentworth’s object is Louisa, without question.”
“Yes, you did say that,” Mary exclaimed, “and I wish your parents had thought it fit to send us back in the carriage, for then I would not have had to listen to so much foolishness. But that is always the way. No one has any consideration for my comfort, or my feelings. I was a great deal too sick to make the walk, Anne, and to have Charles telling me the whole way that Louisa is to marry Captain Wentworth, was a little too much.”
Anne could not answer her on this subject, but turned her face away.
“Mary, do look a moment,” said Charles, “I do believe Anne is not quite well. Does she not appear pale?”
“Oh, Anne is always pale. I suppose that is why she would not go out to dinner, but I must say, Anne, I do think it would have done you good. The food was excellent – whatever you may say about the Musgroves, they have a fine cook, and there were several pair of ducks, all done to a turn.”
“Captain Wentworth and I had a very good day’s shooting, yesterday,” Charles observed, “the ducks were first-rate, though they took Wentworth away from the young ladies for a whole morning.”
“The young ladies, indeed! Why, you know he only has eyes for Henrietta. Did he not sit beside her, and help her to the beet-root? I saw him, I am sure I did. And it will be much the best thing, than for her to marry a poor curate like that Charles Hayter.”
“You forget, Mary, that he had Louisa on his other side, and he served her the ragout with unexceptionable politeness, I thought.”
“Politeness! Oh, aye. He was polite to her enough; but he never took his eyes from Henrietta. And even you will admit that, if Louisa is the livelier, Henrietta is much the prettier. Do not you think so, Anne? Do take my side, Charles is so unreasonable. He declares that Captain Wentworth will have Louisa.”
Anne, lying on the sofa with her head pounding like a drum, could not bear even to contemplate the choice, much less to answer. She said nothing, and Charles looked at her with some compunction.
“Mary, I am worried about Anne. I really do think she has worn herself out with looking after our little boy. It was too bad of us to leave him with her, indeed it was. You see she is quite tired out.”
Anne smiled at him for his concern. “Thank you, Charles, I will do very well. Little Charles went to sleep almost at once, and he was no encumbrance, I assure you.”
“You put a good face upon it,” Charles cried, “but it really is too bad. How ill you do seem, upon my word!”
“Well, but Anne insisted on staying,” Mary defended herself, “don’t you remember, and I am sure I cannot be at home every minute myself. I need refreshment and entertainment, like other people, even though I am the child’s mother.”
Anne assured her that she had not minded in the least, though Charles still looked unconvinced.
“I will agree with you however, Charles, on one point,” said Mary, “Anne does look pale, and the confinement in the house has been the worst thing for her. I know it always is for me. Only consider how much better Anne would feel, if she had the amusement of watching Captain Wentworth with your two sisters! It is so diverting to see him flirt with one, and then the other, and to try to discern which of them he likes best, and will marry. Charles and I never had a better time, and we are only sorry you should have missed it. It was so entertaining!”
“I am sure,” Charles pronounced, “that Louisa is the one. She will be Mrs. Captain Wentworth.”
“And only think, if he is made a baronet, she will be Lady Wentworth, and take precedence over me! But I forgot, it will not be Louisa, but Henrietta.”
“A baronet! Only if there is another war, my dear Mary. Still, I believe Captain Wentworth has already won quite a pretty fortune. It will be a very fine thing for Louisa, and they will visit Kellynch very often.”
“Louisa, indeed! You try my nerves, Charles. Any one could see that he has quite put Charles Hayter out of Henrietta’s head. I do not know who Louisa will marry now, but only that it is a pity he can not marry both of them.”
The argument continued, Anne did not believe it would possibly cease until bed-time, and she also did not think she could bear it that long.
Either sister to marry Captain Wentworth, be it Louisa or Henrietta, what was the difference to Anne? In either case, she would be obliged to look on in silence at his married happiness or the lack of it, knowing that if she was not his wife, she had only her own persuadable nature to blame. What folly not to seize happiness while it was hers; what rack, what torture, to watch him with another, hers no longer.
“
Want to refresh your memory with Jane’s Austen’s original work? Read Persuasion on Austen variations HERE.
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Mary as usual has no concept of anyone, least of all Anne, other than herself. It is interesting that she felt the need to defend herself about leaving little Charles. It would be nice if she truly realized that her “maternal feelings” are not of the nuturing type, but I guess that won’t happen. Upper class women of her time were not expected to care for children or to be involved with their day to day care. Shows that she is a true Elliot. Anne is a saint!. But sometimes I wish she would be a little more like Lizzy Bennett and speak up. That is the brillance of Austen, her characters; each different but each forces you to be aware of who they are and what their place is in the story. No extraneous people that you lose track of. Thanks Diana for this chapter!
You’re welcome, Maggie! That is why I so enjoy following these characters. They are so much themselves. Mary is a true Elliot in so many ways…who else would think of Captain Wentworth maybe being made a baronet? Only Sir Walter’s silly daughter.
I want Captain Wentworth marry Anne Elliot, I like to read happy end story, they may have conflict, they just misunderstanding each other’s feeling, because of family disagree their love for each other, family sometime didn’t know better, they just follow cloud, you know what I mean, don’t you.
I do know what you mean, and I too am very happy that we know Anne will marry her true love!
“…knowing that if she was not his wife, she had only her own persuadable nature to blame” – yes, this sums up the dilemma nicely! And Mary and Charles remain true to character: Mary all wrapped up in herself and how things affect her, while Charles, at least, has an inkling that there is something “wrong” with Anne.
I think that’s why Anne feels so badly…she knows it’s her own fault for not acting differently! Mary is the worst. Well, no, Elizabeth Elliot is worse! I get to write about her later, and I can’t wait!
How awful for Anne to have to have listened to her sister and brother-in-law speculate on the good captain’s matrimonial prospects. She needs to go out for a walk so she can accidently run into him.
I’m not sure Anne was as pro-active as that, RMorrel! WE would have been, but her? Hmmm….
Poor Anne. To hear it being debated as to who Wentworth will marry might just be worse than seeing him, because her opinion might be asked for. Annee remains behind so as not to see, but she must incessantly hear about it. At least, Charles notes she is pale and may be ill and is concerned. It shows he may have actually cared for her, since he did propose, and still has some attraction/feeling for her. And. Sheila L.M., your quote is perfect. As in Anne’s case, hindsight is always 20/20. And as for Mary, Maggie summed her up perfectly, “she is a true Elliott”.
Thank you for a beautifully poignant chapter, Diana.
Thank you, Deborah. Jane Austen describes the situation exactly, of course; Anne is forced to listen to Charles and Mary discuss Wentworth and the Musgrove sisters in the book. So all I did was expand on that a little. You can’t help but feel really sorry for Anne in that situation, can you? (The line Sheila was quoting, though, was, er, MINE! 🙂
No, you can’t help but feel for Anne and I loved your line! 🙂
Thanks again, Deborah, truly. Authors are a craven lot – heaven forbid a line be credited to anybody ELSE! 🙂
I knew it was from your story. I apologize for not wording it as such. Should’ve said your quote from Diana’s story or the quote you chose. I promise to try to make my statements clearer. :-).
You are clear as a bell! I’m a Craven Auvar. 🙂
Not only is Anne torturing herself but having to listen to Mary and Charles argue over who is to marry Captain Wentworth is double torture! I know I can barely talk when I get headache but at least I can take something for it. How did they handle true headaches back then?
Carole, that’s a good thing to research. Looking at Wikipedia, I see that willow bark (component of aspirin) was known in Jane Austen’s day. And they might have swigged laudanum, for really bad headaches like migraines!
My goodness! Can you imagine what Anne might have said to them with their bickering if she had some laudanum! Now there’s a comedy in the making!
I think the laudanum would have put her to sleep, Carole! The mind boggles!
Poor Anne. Scenes like this activate the Anne Elliot Fantasy Sequence in my imagination, wherein Anne finally loses her temper and begins beating people with an embroidery hoop or something. To listen to Charles and Mary bicker back and forth while you have a headache would be bad enough without their particular choice of topic.
Tee hee, Monica, you know Anne can never lose her temper – that’s why Jane Austen called her “a heroine who is almost too good for me”! Certainly Jane Austen was fiendish herself, to force poor Anne to listen to that particular speculation by Charles and Mary.
So sad! (But so well written!) I think Anne was being doubly tortured – it was bad enough to hear that Capt. Wentworth was wooing other women, but the type of description that only Mary and Charles were capable of, makes it worse! Mary and Charles were focused on how pretty or lively the Musgrove ladies are, and how Capt. Wentwort’s attention was evidenced by his serving them certain dishes — urgh! Obviously we couldn’t expect more meaningful reflections from Mary or Charles.
I also thought Anne must feel especially deserted by Frederick, and by everyone, when it seems that now he not only is paying attention to other women, but has interactions with them that seem so trivial compared to what she shared with him. So now I REALLY want to know how he manages to explain himself — maybe a bump on the head? Some kind of temporary personality defect??
Now that you mention it, Kathy, I’ve never been quite satisfied on that point! When Wentworth says in the end that to his eyes Anne could never change, she remembers how when he first saw her he said she was changed beyond recognition. She excuses it because he loves her now, but I don’t know how happy I’d be with that! However, one thing is clear, in giving Anne all these difficulties, mortifications, and pain, Jane Austen does prepare the way for one of the most romantic endings ever.
Oh, what torture poor Anne suffered! Mary is truly a silly goose, almost as bad as her father and Elizabeth but with fewer debts.
I hope you really lambast Elizabeth in your next turn. These Elliot girls deserve nothing less!
I am gearing up, June!
Well both Mary and Charles has no idea that their argument is causing Anne to be more ill and uncomfortable by the minute. Why they do not cease their talk and focus on something else is beyond understanding.
Thanks for giving us a brilliant continuation to the story, Diana.