Persuasion

"And so, ma'am, all these thing considered," said Mrs Musgrove,
in her powerful whisper, "though we could have wished it different,
yet, altogether, we did not think it fair to stand out any longer,
for Charles Hayter was quite wild about it, and Henrietta was
pretty near as bad; and so we thought they had better marry at once,
and make the best of it, as many others have done before them.
At any rate, said I, it will be better than a long engagement."

"That is precisely what I was going to observe," cried Mrs Croft.
"I would rather have young people settle on a small income at once,
and have to struggle with a few difficulties together, than be
involved in a long engagement.  I always think that no mutual--"

"Oh! dear Mrs Croft," cried Mrs Musgrove, unable to let her
finish her speech, "there is nothing I so abominate for young people
as a long engagement.  It is what I always protested against
for my children.  It is all very well, I used to say, for young people
to be engaged, if there is a certainty of their being able to marry
in six months, or even in twelve; but a long engagement--"

"Yes, dear ma'am," said Mrs Croft, "or an uncertain engagement,
an engagement which may be long.  To begin without knowing
that at such a time there will be the means of marrying,
I hold to be very unsafe and unwise, and what I think all parents
should prevent as far as they can."

Anne found an unexpected interest here.  She felt its application
to herself, felt it in a nervous thrill all over her; and at the same
moment that her eyes instinctively glanced towards the distant table,
Captain Wentworth's pen ceased to move, his head was raised, pausing,
listening, and he turned round the next instant to give a look,
one quick, conscious look at her.

The two ladies continued to talk, to re-urge the same admitted truths,
and enforce them with such examples of the ill effect of
a contrary practice as had fallen within their observation,
but Anne heard nothing distinctly; it was only a buzz of words in her ear,
her mind was in confusion.

Captain Harville, who had in truth been hearing none of it,
now left his seat, and moved to a window, and Anne seeming to watch him,
though it was from thorough absence of mind, became gradually sensible
that he was inviting her to join him where he stood.  He looked at her
with a smile, and a little motion of the head, which expressed,
"Come to me, I have something to say;" and the unaffected,
easy kindness of manner which denoted the feelings of an older acquaintance
than he really was, strongly enforced the invitation.  She roused herself
and went to him.  The window at which he stood was at the other end
of the room from where the two ladies were sitting, and though nearer
to Captain Wentworth's table, not very near.  As she joined him,
Captain Harville's countenance re-assumed the serious, thoughtful
expression which seemed its natural character.

"Look here," said he, unfolding a parcel in his hand, and displaying
a small miniature painting, "do you know who that is?"

"Certainly:  Captain Benwick."

"Yes, and you may guess who it is for.  But," (in a deep tone,)
"it was not done for her.  Miss Elliot, do you remember our
walking together at Lyme, and grieving for him?  I little thought then--
but no matter.  This was drawn at the Cape.  He met with
a clever young German artist at the Cape, and in compliance with a promise
to my poor sister, sat to him, and was bringing it home for her;
and I have now the charge of getting it properly set for another!
It was a commission to me!  But who else was there to employ?
I hope I can allow for him.  I am not sorry, indeed, to make it
over to another.  He undertakes it;" (looking towards Captain Wentworth,)
"he is writing about it now."  And with a quivering lip he wound up
the whole by adding, "Poor Fanny! she would not have forgotten him so soon!"

"No," replied Anne, in a low, feeling voice. "That I can easily believe."

"It was not in her nature.  She doted on him."

"It would not be the nature of any woman who truly loved."

Captain Harville smiled, as much as to say, "Do you claim that
for your sex?" and she answered the question, smiling also,
"Yes.  We certainly do not forget you as soon as you forget us.
It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit.  We cannot help ourselves.
We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us.
You are forced on exertion.  You have always a profession, pursuits,
business of some sort or other, to take you back into the world immediately,
and continual occupation and change soon weaken impressions."

"Granting your assertion that the world does all this so soon for men
(which, however, I do not think I shall grant), it does not apply
to Benwick.  He has not been forced upon any exertion.  The peace
turned him on shore at the very moment, and he has been living with us,
in our little family circle, ever since."

"True," said Anne, "very true; I did not recollect; but what shall
we say now, Captain Harville?  If the change be not from
outward circumstances, it must be from within; it must be nature,
man's nature, which has done the business for Captain Benwick."

"No, no, it is not man's nature.  I will not allow it to be more
man's nature than woman's to be inconstant and forget those they do love,