with the Crofts to dine at Uppercross, by the end of another week. It had been a great disappointment to Mr Musgrove to find that no earlier day could be fixed

and then, she supposed, they must meet; and soon she b

use, where, as she afterwards learnt, they must inevitably have found him, when they were stopped by the eldest boy's being at that moment brought home in consequence of a bad fall. The

ecary to send for, the father to have pursued and informed, the mother to support and keep from hysterics, the servants to control, the youngest child to banish, and the poor suffering one to attend

then it was, just before they parted, that the two young aunts were able so far to digress from their nephew's state, as to give the information of Captain Wentworth's visit; staying five minutes behind their father and mother, to endeavour to express how perfectly delighted they were with him, how much handsomer, how infinitely more agreeable they thought him than any individual among their male acquaintance, who had been at all a favourite before. How glad they had been to hear papa invite him to stay dinner, how sorry when he said it was quite out

add his confirmation and praise, and hope there would be now no occasion for putting Captain Wentworth off, and only be sorry to think that the cottage party, probably, would not like to leave the little boy, to give him the

ptain Wentworth, that, perhaps, he might join them in the evening; he would not dine from home, but he might walk in for half an hour." But in

r longer confinement. The child was to be kept in bed and amused as quietly as possible; but what was there for a father to do? This was quite a female case, and it would be highly absurd in him, who could be of no use at home, to shut himself up. His father v

and he thought me quite right. Your sister being with you, my love, I have no scruple at all. You would not

er of speaking, that he was quite determined on going, and that it would be of no use to teaze him.

ing! I must say it is very unfeeling of him to be running away from his poor little boy. Talks of his being going on so well! How does he know that he is going on well, or that there may not be a sudden change half an hour hence? I did not think Charles would have been so unfeeling. So here he is to go away

ing to distress us. I perfectly understand Mr Robinson's directions, and have no fears; and indeed, Mary, I cannot wonder at your husband. N

n Charles, for I cannot be always scolding and teazing the poor child when it is ill; and you saw, this morning,

ourself, to be spending the whol

ow he was. I really think Charles might as well have told his father we would all come. I am not more alarmed a

ose you were to go, as well as your husband. Leave little Charles to my

rles do anything; he always minds you at a word. It will be a great deal better than leaving him only with Jemima. Oh! I shall certainly go; I am sure I ought if I can, quite as much as Charles, for they want me excessively to be acquainted with Captain Wentworth, and I know you do not mind being left alone. An

nd as Anne followed her up stairs, she was in time for the whole conve

ld not be able to persuade him to do anything he did not like. Anne will stay; Anne undertakes to stay at home and take care of him. It is

ould be very glad to have you go; but it seems rather hard that

d might be at rest for the night, and kindly urged her to let him come and fetch her, but she was quite unpersuadable; and this being the case, she had ere long the pleasure of seeing them set off together in high spirits. They were gone, she hoped, to be happy, however oddly constructed such ha

ither indifferent or unwilling. Had he wished ever to see her again, he need not have waited till this time; he would have done what she could no

rve; they seemed all to know each other perfectly, and he was coming the very next morning to shoot with Charles. He was to come to breakfast, but not at the Cottage, though that had been proposed at first; but then he had been pressed

htly, as might suit a former slight acquaintance, seeming to acknowledge such as she had ackn

they were just setting off, that he was come for his dogs, that his sisters were following with Captain Wentworth; his sisters meaning to visit Mary and the child, and Captain Wentworth proposing also to wait on her f

the drawing-room. Her eye half met Captain Wentworth's, a bow, a curtsey passed; she heard his voice; he talked to Mary, said all that was right, said something to the Miss Musgroves, enough to mark an easy footing; the room seemed full, full of persons and voices, but a few minut

ed to herself again and again, in ne

. She had seen him. They had met. The

be resuming the agitation which such an interval had banished into distance and indistinctness! What might not eight years do? Events of every description, change

nd, that to retentive feelings eight

e wishing to avoid her? And the next moment she was h

e was soon spared all suspense; for, after the Miss Musgroves had returned and fin

ntive to me. Henrietta asked him what he thought of you, when they went aw

ter's in a common way, but she was perfectly uns

ot for the worse. She had already acknowledged it to herself, and she could not think differently, let him think of her as he would. No: the years which had destroye

dwell with her. Yet she soon began to rejoice that she had heard them. They were of sober

moment of appeal, had spoken as he felt. He had not forgiven Anne Elliot. She had used him ill, deserted and disappointed him; and worse, she had shewn a feebleness of character in d

m he thought her equal; but, except from some natural sensation of curiosity,

fall in love with all the speed which a clear head and a quick taste could allow. He had a heart for either of the Miss Musgroves, if they could catch it; a heart, in shor

have me for asking. A little beauty, and a few smiles, and a few compliments to the navy, and I am a

nd Anne Elliot was not out of his thoughts, when he more seriously described the woman he should wish t

l of course put up with, but it must not be much. If I am a fool, I shal