The opening chapter introduces Sir Walter Elliot and his immediate family to the reader. Sir Walter, baronet of Kellynch Hall, is a man for whom “vanity of person and situation” is everything (4). He reads only one book — the Baronetage, a record of English nobility — in which the Elliot family is listed as follows:

Walter Elliot, born March 1, 1760, married, July 15, 1784, Elizabeth, daughter of James Stevenson, Esq. of South Park, in the county of Gloucester; by which lady (who died 1800) he has issue Elizabeth, born June 1, 1785; Anne, born August 9, 1787; a still-born son, Nov. 5, 1789; Mary, born Nov 20, 1791. (3)

Lady Elliot, it appears, had been a “excellent woman” and wife, both more sensible and more amiable than Sir Walter (4). Since her untimely death thirteen years ago, Sir Walter has lived as a widower with his three daughters. The eldest daughter Elizabeth bears her mother’s name for good reason. Like Lady Elliot, she is a beautiful woman whose sensibilities conform to those of Sir Walter. As such, she has served as mistress of Kellynch Hall since her mother’s death. The opening chapter tells an unfortunate story of her past: several years ago, she expected an engagement to one William Walter Elliot, Esq., the heir presumptive to the Elliot baronetcy. For two consecutive years, Mr. Elliot was expected to visit Kellynch Hall to ask for Elizabeth’s hand. Instead, he chose to “purchase independence by uniting himself to a rich woman of inferior birth” (6). To this day, then, Elizabeth presides over Kellynch hall.

After Elizabeth, the two sisters Mary and Anne follow in order of their father’s preference. The youngest sister Mary has acquired some “artificial importance” through her favorable marriage to Charles Musgrove, the eldest child of the sympathetic and relatively wealthy Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove (5). In intellect and sensibilities, however, she remains inferior to Anne. In looks, too, she comes in last among the sisters, having “only reached the dignity of being ‘a fine girl’” (25). All in all, Mary is described as an agreeable woman of good humor, excepting her tendency to think herself a victim of sickness or neglect. As for Anne, her portrait is painted through her perceptions of the novel’s events as the story unfolds.

The Elliot family faces a financial quandary: despite Sir Walter’s income as a baronet, they have been living beyond their means. When Lady Elizabeth was still alive, Kellynch Hall was run with moderation and economy wherever possible. Since her death, however, Sir Walter has been unable to keep in check the spending that he feels is required of a baronet and thus far exceeds his income. Elizabeth has attempted to remedy the situation, but in vain. The Elliot debt has now accumulated to a critical point. Given that Sir Walter will never condescend to sell Kellynch Hall, what can possibly be done?

Two family friends, Mr. Shepherd and Lady Russell, are called upon for advice. Not wishing to pronounce the obvious but disagreeable recommendation for the Elliots to reduce their spending dramatically, Mr. Shepherd defers his judgment initially to Lady Russell. At first, Lady Russell attempts to convince Sir Walter to cut back the spending that he has taken for granted. But Sir Walter declares that he could not “live [without] the decencies even of a private gentleman” and that he would rather leave Kellynch hall (10). It thus becomes clear that the family has three options: move to London, to Bath, or to another house in the country, as the cost of living would be more feasible.

The most financially prudent option would be for the Elliots to move to the house in the country. But Lady Russell, in all her rationality and cultivation, has a high regard for “rank and consequence” and advises the Elliot family to move to the more elegant Bath (9). The house in the country would represent too far a fall from Kellynch Hall; at Bath, Sir Walter might be “important at comparatively little expense” (10). It is thus decided that the Elliots will move to Bath — without Anne having any real say in the matter. As the most rational member of the family and the most mindful of paying off the family debt expediently, Anne would have preferred drastic reductions at Kellynch Hall or the more dramatic move to a house in the country. Indeed, Anne differs from her good friend Lady Russell in that she has little regard for wealth or family per se. She has little say with her father and sister, however, and Lady Russell feels that her plans would demand too large a sacrifice of the Elliot respectability.

The above decided, Kellynch Hall must presently welcome a new tenant. The timing is fortuitous, as many navy officers will be returning to England with fortunes newly made at sea. Although Sir Walter expresses his aversion to navy officers — deeming them unworthy of Kellynch Hall both in birth and in appearance — Mr. Shepherd manages to convince him of their general respectability. One Admiral Croft, in particular, appears immediately afterwards as a promising candidate for tenant of Kellynch Hall. Mr. Shepherd assures Sir Walter that Admiral Croft is of a “gentleman’s family” and an important admiral with a considerable fortune (16). He is also married and without children, thus fulfilling the conditions for a good tenant. After a successful visit — Admiral Croft and Sir Walter humoring each other sympathetically — it is decided that the Crofts will have Kellynch Hall at Michaelmas (on September 29th).

Analysis

The reader who turns to the first page of Persuasion is introduced immediately to a book within a book: Sir Walter’s favorite reading, the Baronetage, which probably refers to J. Debrett’s Baronetage of England. The book traces the family history of the Elliots of Kellynch Hall. It is later referred to appropriately as the “book of books,” as it contains the seeds of Persuasion (5). We learn basic bibliographic information — the death of Lady Elliot has left Sir Walter a widow, with three daughters. We also learn that Lady Elliot’s only son was stillborn. When we look back into the “seeds of time” — a Shakespearean metaphor — we find a seed that did not sprout (Macbeth I iii 58).

The seed that has failed to sprout leads eventually to problems for the Elliots (the episode with Mr. Elliot, mentioned in the fist chapter, returns to haunt the family later in the novel). In the opening chapters, however, the stillborn son is more emblematic of the troubles that plague an upper class titled family. The Elliots have been exceeding Sir Walter’s income, and much of the Kellynch estate has already been mortgaged. From a historical perspective, the problem is realistic, as an increasing number of the titled struggled with their finances. In the novel, the problem sets the plot in motion.

From the very outset, the narrator portrays Sir Walter (and to large extent Elizabeth) in an unequivocal manner: “Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter’s character; vanity of person and of situation” (4). Sir Walter is proud and self-important — and not without reason, as he is a handsome baronet. Thus when the Elliots decide to move, Bath is chosen because the Elliots “might be important at comparatively little expense” (10). In the opening chapters, as with the rest of the novel, the narrator rarely mentions how Sir Walter feels—much less what he thinks. His character remains static. As the critic Julia Prewitt Brown notes of this characterization, “Sir Walter is inelastic, implacable, conceptualized” (Brown 71).

The move away from Kellynch Hall, then, poses a conflict and existential dilemma for Sir Walter. On the one hand, the Baronetage states duly that he is the baronet of Kellynch Hall. On the other hand, he must give up the same social role voluntarily. Luckily, Mr. Shepherd negotiates a suitable compromise by arranging for the Crofts to rent Kellynch Hall. (The name Shepherd is appropriate, as he tends to the Elliots who seem as vulnerable and sheepish when it comes to leaving Kellynch). With the Crofts in Kellynch, Sir Walter will be able to save a degree of respectability by saying “I have let my house to Admiral Croft” (17). Nonetheless, the fact remains that the Elliots will no longer reside in Kellynch. As Brown suggests, “the portrayal of Sir Walter is a social portrait of the dislocation of role” (72). How does he cope with this dislocation?

Subsequent chapters reveal that Sir Walter and Elizabeth hold on adamantly to their original roles, despite the change of locale. Their primary concern becomes how to maintain the Elliot glory, or to hide the fact that it has been lost already—in search, as it were, of time past. In fact, almost all of the characters from the opening chapters continue to play their original roles. All except Anne. As the novel progresses, it becomes very clear that the free indirect discourse of the narrative speaks primarily “from” Anne’s point of view. It is the reader who will do Anne Elliot, whose “word had not weight,” her deserved justice (5).

As it turns out, Admiral Croft’s wife is the sister of one Mr. Wentworth, who formerly lived near the Elliots at Monkford. The name of Captain Frederick Wentworth has particular importance to Anne — one that makes her cheeks flushed and that inspires in her a “gentle sigh” (18). Just over seven years ago, Captain Wentworth and Anne fell deeply in love with each other. The captain was “a remarkably fine young man, with a great deal of intelligence, spirit and brilliancy.” On her side, Anne was “an extremely pretty girl, with gentleness, modesty, taste, and feeling” (18).

After only a few months of happiness, however, their relationship came to an abrupt end — for Captain Wentworth had neither family nor fortune to his name. Sir Walter, deeming the relationship a “degrading alliance,” expressed his disapproval silently but severely, while Lady Russell spoke strongly against a “unfortunate” and “youth-killing alliance” (18-19). And Anne, being still young, was persuaded that the relationship must be broken off. Captain Wentworth was overwhelmed by the “feeling [of] himself ill - used by so forced a relinquishment” and left the country (19). True to his own convictions, Captain Wentworth subsequently found a prosperous path in the navy. To this day, Anne has met no man comparable to him. She is persuaded that keeping the engagement would have made her a happier woman — even if the captain had not made exceptional fortunes.

As the Crofts prepare to move into Kellynch Hall, it is decided that Anne will not go to Bath and will instead stay with her sister Mary at Uppercross. This arrangement suits all parties: Sir Walter and Elizabeth will not miss her, Lady Russell will have her closer by, and Mary will welcome the company to keep her indisposed spirits high. To the disapproval of Lady Russell and Anne, however, it is also decided that Mrs. Clay will join the Elliots at Bath. Mrs. Clay, a daughter of Mr. Shepherd who has returned with two children after an unsuccessful marriage, exceeds at the art of pleasing at Kellynch Hall. Although no one describes her as beautiful — she has a projecting tooth and freckles — both Lady Russell and Anne fear that she will ingratiate herself with the Elliots to the extent that an intimacy develops with Sir Walter. After all “there is hardly any personal defect,” says Anne to Elizabeth, “which an agreeable manner might not gradually reconcile one too” (24).

Dismissing Anne’s suspicions with a touch of resentment, Elizabeth departs to Bath with Sir Walter and Mrs. Clay. Anne, in turn, travels to the Cottage at Uppercross, about a quarter of a mile from the Great House where Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove live. She finds Mary in rather sullen spirits upon arrival but manages to cheer her up through conversation. Mary consequently proposes a walk and the two decide to visit the Great House. After spending a half hour in pleasant conversation at the Great House, Mary and Anne once again set off on a walk, this time joined by the Miss Musgroves, Henrietta and Louisa.

The transition from Kellynch Hall to Uppercross reminds Anne that Elliot affairs — in all the Elliots’ self-importance — are of little concern to those outside her immediate circle. At the Great House, the Musgroves inquire about the Elliots’ move to Bath as they would about any other common event. The Musgroves, meanwhile, have their own set of preoccupations. The men are engaged with their horses and hunting, while the women enjoy fashion, dancing, and music. As Anne acknowledges, “every little social commonwealth. . . dictate[s] its own discourse” (29). For Anne, the change of “social commonwealth” is far from unpleasant. Although she is removed from her only “truly sympathizing friend,” Lady Russell, both the younger and older generation of Musgroves are entirely agreeable and treat her with respect (29). Indeed, Anne resolves to integrate herself into her new environment as much as possible.

In general, the days at Uppercross are passed pleasantly: there is much merriment, with music, parties, and dancing. Whereas Kellynch Hall neglects Anne entirely, however, the “least agreeable circumstance” at Uppercross is that all parties treat her with “too much confidence” (30). All too often, Anne finds herself at the center of disagreements between Mary and Charles, or between Mary and Mrs. Musgrove. Each party brings to her different grievances; to each party she must “give. . . all hints of the forbearance necessary between such near neighbours” (31).

At Michaelmas, the Crofts move into Kellynch Hall. When the Crofts pay a visit to Uppercross, Anne engages in pleasant conversation with Mrs. Croft — but is surprised by the sudden mention of Mrs. Croft’s brother. As it turns out, the reference is not to Frederick but to his brother Edward. Later, however, Admiral Croft once again mentions “a brother of Mrs. Croft’s,” noting that his visit is expected soon. Anne thus remains uncertain as to which Wentworth brother is in question. Finally, Louisa arrives and mentions that Captain Frederick Wentworth has returned to England and will be coming to visit.

Incidentally, the news has aroused melancholic feelings in the older Musgroves. According to the narrator, “the Musgroves had had the ill fortune of a very troublesome, hopeless son; and the good fortune to lose him before he reach his twentieth year” (34). The son, Richard, had been sent to sea and had at one point served under Captain Wentworth. Under the captain’s influence, Richard wrote the only two letters he ever wrote his parents while away. Wotj news of Captain Wentworth having triggered memories, Mrs. Musgrove has just reread the two letters. And with “all the strength of his faults forgotten,” the rereading has “thrown her into greater grief for him than she had known on first hearing of his death” (35). As a result, the Musgroves resolve to introduce themselves to Captain Wentworth when he arrives. Little do they realize the emotional turmoil that such talk of Captain Wentworth arouses in Anne.

Analysis

The fourth chapter introduces the foremost instance of persuasion in the novel. Seven years ago, Anne was persuaded by those around her—particularly Lady Russell—to break off her engagement to Captain Wentworth. It has taken Anne many years to cope with the traumatic experience (note that the word “trauma” comes from the Greek for “wound”). And it is clear that the wound has not yet healed fully, for the narrator states that Anne “ha[s] been too dependent on time alone” (20). The mere mention of the name Wentworth brings back fresh memories. This psychic movement into the past is represented aptly in the form of a literary flashback.

As the narrator intimates that Captain Wentworth will reappear presently in the novel, it becomes clear that Anne must overcome the stumbling block of seven years past. Where she will find the strength to do so, however, remains unclear. The critic Tony Tanner writes:

The story of her life consists precisely in having had her own way blocked, refused, negated. . . Yet ‘persuasion’ implies some sort of ‘authority’—preferably moral authority. . . But what is striking about the world of Persuasion is the absence of any real centre or principle of authority. (Tanner 233)

The closest thing to a center of authority, perhaps, is Anne’s own persuasion about her engagement to Captain Wentworth: “She was persuaded that under every disadvantage of disapprobation at home. . . she should yet have been a happier woman in maintaining the engagement, than she had been in the sacrifice of it” (20). In retrospect, her persuasion would have proven itself rapidly as a favorable one. For Captain Wentworth had plenty of fortune without having fortune: although he had no money at the time, the wheel of fortune was to spin upward for him very soon. Despite such an ironic twist of fate, morality and life's decisions cannot be judged fairly in retrospect. In this regard, Anne’s persuasion may be better understood in the sense of the word’s root, meaning “sweet” or “pleasant” (Bloom 1). More precisely, her persuasion carries the emotional charge of “bittersweet.” Or as the Greek poet of love Sappho wrote the word, “sweetbitter”—a sweetness of having the correct persuasion that is simulataneously bitter (Carson 3). "Persuasion" is evidently a complex motif.

Just as Sir Walter must evaluate himself as the baronet of Kellynch who is displaced from Kellynch, so too will Anne need to reevaluate her “role” with regards to Captain Wentworth. Is she now a friend, a past lover, an acquaintance, or even a stranger to him? In the meantime, the displacement from Kellynch to Uppercross also assigns her a new role as general confidante. The two houses are separate microcosms, each a world in its own. At Kellynch, no one except Lady Russell listens to Anne or asks her opinion; at Uppercross, every one wants to speak to Anne. Within the narrative, she is at the center of discussions and arguments, between Mary and Charles, between Mary and Mrs. Musgrove. And for the reader of the narrative, the critic Stuart M. Tave notes that “it is through her ears, eyes, and mind that we know most of what we know and that we are made to care for what is happening” (Tave 11).

Thus at the center of the Uppercross microcosm, Anne becomes an authority on the characters and events that surround her. It is she who negotiates arguments with moderation; it is she who understands everyone’s individual needs and listens patiently to their talk. And yet, her authority does not give her word any more weight than at Kellynch. Tave points out that “in the music-making at Uppercross Anne herself plays a great deal better than either of the Miss Musgroves, but ‘having no voice,’ nor anything else that would make an noise. . . her performance is little thought of, as she is well aware” (Tave 12). From a certain perspective, her humility and avoidance of making unnecessary noises marks her superiority of character. On the other hand, the narrative undoubtedly engages a forlorn tone to speak of Anne’s lack of voice:

. . . excepting one short period of her life, she had never, since the age of fourteen, never since the loss of her dear mother, known the happiness of being listened to, or encouraged by any just appreciation or real taste. (32)

Finally, it should be noted that Anne’s voice is not the narrator’s, despite their proximity to one another. The last scene in the chapter six demonstrates this point. When the name of Wentworth triggers memories of Richard in Mrs. Musgrove, the narrator states that “the real circumstances of this pathetic piece of family history were, that the Musgroves had had the ill fortune of a very troublesome, hopeless son; and the good fortune to lose him at sea. . .” (35). The adjectives “pathetic,” “troublesome,” “hopeless” and the judgment of good and bad fortune may be accurate. But it is difficult to imagine the subtle Anne making such a blunt statement—even if she does not disagree with the underlying point.

After Captain Wentworth arrives at Kellynch, Mr. Musgrove pays him a visit and invites him to dine at Uppercross. Several days later, on the night that the captain returns Mr. Musgrove's visit, Charles, Mary, and Anne also engage to dine at the Great House. As it turns out, however, they are unable to attend due to a last-minute injury of Mary's eldest son. He takes a bad fall and dislocates his collarbone, resulting in a great ordeal at the Cottage. Only after Charles' return and the apothecary's arrival does the situation begin to calm down.

After dinner, the Musgroves from the Great House arrive at the Cottage to inquire about the injured child. After Mr. and Mrs. Musgrove leave, the young Miss. Musgroves stay behind to report their delightful impressions of Captain Wentworth's visit — "how infinitely more agreeable they though him than any individual among their male acquaintance, who had been at all a favourite before" (36). In fact, the captain is once again engaged to dine at Uppercross on the next day.

Although it is first assumed that the "cottage party" must remain home to look after the child, Charles expresses a desire to meet Captain Wentworth. Indeed, seeing that the child’s condition does not require his immediate presence, Charles announces his resolve to dine at the Great House. At first, Mary complains of his “unfeeling” nature to Anne. But when prompted by Anne, Mary herself decides to join Charles for dinner. Anne is content to remain at home — where she will be useful — and besides, remains ambivalent about seeing Captain Wentworth.

The next morning, Captain Wentworth stops by the Cottage on his way to go hunting with Charles. The surprise visit delights Mary but catches Anne off-guard — how is she to act around him, to react to him? The captain sets off with Charles after brief greetings, but his presence has stirred up memories and passions in Anne: “Alas! with all her reasonings, she found, that to retentive feelings eight years may be little more than nothing” (40). Later, she hears from Mary that the captain found her “so altered he should not have known [her] again” (41). This mortifies Anne, particularly since she finds him as attractive as before. Having made his fortune, the captain intends to marry — ideally, a woman with “a strong mind, with sweetness of manner” (42).

From their first meeting (or re-meeting) forth, Anne and Captain Wentworth are constantly found within the same circle. Despite their past, they say little to each other beyond what “the commonest civility required” (42). Since the party at Uppercross has little knowledge of naval matters, the captain is often found explaining the details of life at sea. The young Miss Musgroves, in particular, listen to him very intently, reminding Anne of her younger self. One day, as captain recounts his adventures on his first ship, the Asp — and how he almost died at sea — Mrs. Musgrove is reminded of her deceased son Richard. She announces her regrets that Richard ever left Captain Wentworth. Although the captain “had probably been at some pains to get rid of him,” he suppresses his self-amusement and “showed the kindest consideration for all that was real and unabsurd in the parent’s feelings” (45).

The ensuing part of the evening is spent in discussion. Captain Wentworth is of the opinion that women should not be allowed on board ships — or at least his own ship — “from feeling how impossible it is, with all one’s efforts, and all one’s sacrifices, to make accommodations on board, such as women ought to have” (46). His sister disagrees, stating that she has found the best accommodations on men-of-war. While the captain maintains his position, Admiral Croft suggests that his ideas will change once he is married — an idea that the captain denies vehemently. Aside, Mrs. Croft assures Mrs. Musgrove that men-of-war are perfectly suitable to ladies, so long as husband and wife are together.

The evening ends in dancing, with the attentions of the young Miss Musgroves and Miss Hayters focused intently on Captain Wentworth. At one point, Anne senses that the captain may be observing her, or speaking of her. And once, he does speak to her: “I beg your pardon, madam, this is your set.” Anne finds his “cold politeness, his ceremonial grace. . . worse than anything” (49).

Although Captain Wentworth first intended to visit his brother at Shropshire, he has found such welcome at Uppercross that he has settled into Kellynch Hall for an indefinite period - and visits Uppercross almost daily. When one Charles Hayter returns to the Uppercross circle after a short absence, however, he does not appreciate the captain’s presence. Charles Hayter is the eldest of the cousins and a pleasant clergyman who lives only two miles from Uppercross. Although the Hayters are clearly below the Musgroves in the social hierarchy, the two families have always “been on excellent terms, there being no pride on one side, and no envy on the other” (50). Thus far, the young Mr. Hayter has enjoyed the attentions of the Miss Musgroves and has been on particularly good terms with Henrietta. But upon his return, he finds his presence eclipsed by Captain Wentworth.

Since Captain Wentworth’s recent arrival, speculation has abounded as to which of the Miss Musgroves he prefers. At the Cottage, Charles Musgrove states that he would be happy to have either of his sisters marry the captain. ary, on the other hand, would prefer him to marry Henrietta on account of Charles Hayter, “whose pretensions she wished to see put an end to.” Mary has inherited a clear share of the Elliot pride and believes that Henrietta “has no right to throw herself away” (51). Charles counters that Henrietta could do much worse — and that her marriage to Charles Hayter would free Captain Wentworth for Louisa.

As for Anne, she deems it important that Captain Wentworth makes a decision before he compromises his honor or gives false impressions. With regards to Charles Hayter, whom she has known for a long time, she finds the situation alarming. Only two weeks have passed, but the young Miss Musgroves’ attentions have been almost completely diverted. The young Mr. Hayter has hope, however, of securing a much more advantageous position in the near future, for Dr. Shirley, the local rector, has become somewhat infirm in his old age.

One morning, Captain Wentworth arrives at the Cottage to find Anne alone in the room with Mary’s injured son Charles. Both parties are surprised by the encounter and are unsure of what to do. At this point, Charles Hayter enters the room, followed by Mary’s younger son. The boy fastens himself around Anne’s neck playfully and refuses to release her, even after Charles Hayter’s prompting. At this point, Captain Wentworth steps in and picks up the boy, leaving Anne “perfectly speechless.” His act of kindness towards her leaves her in state of “painful agitation,” the recovery from which “required a long application of solitude and reflection” (54).

After observing the party at Uppercross for some time, Anne comes to believe that Captain Wentworth is in love with neither of the Miss Musgroves, nor are either of the Musgroves in love with the captain. On the lady’s part, there is a “little fever of admiration”; on the captain’s part, there is a mistake of “accepting the attentions. . . of two young woman at once.” As for Charles Hayter, it appears that he feels slighted and has “quit the field” (55).

One morning, the Miss Musgroves, Anne, and Mary set out to take a walk and are joined by Charles Musgrove and Captain Wentworth. Anne takes pleasure in the exercise and in repeating “the thousand poetical descriptions extant of autumn,” yet she cannot help but overhear Captain Wentworth’s conversations with the Miss Musgroves (56). He appears more engaged with Louisa than with Henrietta. At one point, the captain wonders whether his sister and brother-in-law are enjoying the weather. Louisa declares that she would be doing so, were she in Mrs. Croft’s place — and that she would always stay by the man she loved. Captain Wentworth responds, equally enthusiastically: “I honour you” (57)! Shocked by the mutual enthusiasm between the couple, Anne cannot fall back into her poetic quotations for a while.

As they approach Winthrop, Charles declares that he would like to visit his aunt and cousins. Since Mary is tired — and does not deign to visit the relatives — it is decided that Charles will go down with Henrietta while the rest of the party remains on the hill. While Louisa and Captain Wentworth wander off, Anne and Mary sit down by a hedge-row. After a while, Anne hears Louisa and the captain walking behind the hedge-row, out of sight. When Louisa speaks of Henrietta’s “nonsensical complaisance” regarding the visit to the relatives, the captain responds with a warm speech praising her “character of decision and firmness” (58-59). Equally startling to Anne, however, is the captain’s curious attitude when he learns from Louisa that Anne turned down Charles Musgrove’s marriage proposal.

Charles Musgrove and Henrietta return with Charles Hayter, with whom Henrietta seems to have reestablished good terms. The party is thus divided into three couples, with only Anne taking Charles’ arm to form a group of three. On their way home, the party chances upon the Crofts’ carriage. Captain Wentworth suggests to his sister that they might take Anne home with them, as she seems tired. Anne is moved by his “warm and amiable heart, which she could not contemplate without emotions so compounded of pleasure and pain, that she knew not which prevailed” (61). On the way home, the Admiral and his wife discuss which of the young Miss Musgroves the captain intends to marry.

Analysis

Captain Wentworth’s arrival at Kellynch rouses a great deal of excitement at Uppercross. Whereas Sir Walter and Elizabeth would not deign to interact with men of low rank like Captain Wentworth — however charming they may be — the Musgroves enjoy him for who he is. Louisa and Henrietta, in particular, appear to be infatuated with him immediately. But what does Anne think of the situation? The narrator tells us: “And what was it to her, if Frederick Wentworth were only half a mile distant, making himself agreeable to others” (39)! The ironic tone suggests that Anne would like to be in Captain Wentworth’s company, despite her generous offer to remain home with the injured child Charles.

In reality, however, the offer to stay home may stem more from anxiety than from generosity. Although Anne wishes to see Captain Wentworth, she cannot bear the though that he may not particularly wish to see her. The narrator’s free indirect speech expresses Anne’s inner conflict well: “She would have liked to know how he felt as to a meeting. Perhaps indifferent, if indifference could exist under such circumstances. He must be either indifferent or unwilling” (39). We see that Anne mind, usually sensible and rational, does not dare to contemplate the very logical possibility that the captain may want to see her — just as much as she wants to see the captain. Even seven years’ time, it appears, has yet to extinguish to her love for Captain Wentworth.

For Austen’s young women, Anne’s age of twenty-seven represents a liminal and perilous period in life. As the critic A. Walton Litz reminds us, “Charlotte Lucas of Prude and Prejudice is ‘about twenty-seven’ when she accepts the foolish Mr. Collins, and Marianne in Sense and Sensibility laments that ‘a woman of seven and twenty. . . can never hope to feel or inspire affection again” (Litz 37). Similarly, the reappearance of Captain Wentworth confuses and even dismays Anne. She realizes that “her bloom had vanished early” and wonders what the captain will think of her at present (5). For readers familiar with Austen's other works, Anne's age heightens such tensions by way of dramatic irony: will Anne be able to conquer the dangers ascribed to her age that are unbeknownst to her?

When Captain Wentworth does appear, the results are far from encouraging for Anne. According to Mary’s report, the captain tells Henrietta that “[Anne was] so altered that he should not have known [her] again’” (41). The verb “alter” derives directly from the Latin alter, meaning “other.” It is as if Anne were another person entirely—harsh words indeed. But from a narratological perspective, the report has the advantage of containing an uncertainty inherent to hearsay. Did he captain really say those exact words? In context, perhaps, the words meant something slightly different. In any case, Stuart M. Tave points out that “[Captain Wentworth] is a perceptive man, but at his first appearance in the novel he has the closed, foolish mind that only a clever man can have” (Tave 13). Only as the plot progresses do we begin to recognize a man worthy of Anne Elliot.

One night, when Captain Wentworth visits the Musgroves at the Great House, Mrs. Musgrove reminisces fondly of her lost son Dick. The narrator has noted earlier that Dick was a worthless son whom the Musgroves are better off without. Thus Anne, who knows Captain Wentworth very well, notes “a certain glance in his bright eye, and curl of his handsome mouth, which convinced [her], that instead of sharing in Mrs. Musgrove’s kind wishes, as to her son, he had probably been at some pains to get rid of him.” But the flicker of irony and self-amusement is replaced promptly by a sincere sympathy. The captain moves to talk with Mrs. Musgrove in an appropriately “low voice”—and not simply because it is the gallant and proper thing to do (45). He appreciates that a mother, even if she is “infinitely more fitted by nature to express good cheer and good humour,” may miss a deceased son like Dick (46). The narrator portrays the mother satirically but not the captain.

With regards to the young Miss Musgroves, however, Captain Wentworth’s behavior appears less than exemplary. As Anne notes, in not showing a preference for Henrietta or Louisa, he endangers their happiness as well as his own honor. Meanwhile, he also displaces Charles Hayter, who feels rather estranged from Henrietta. One incident is particularly telling of this displacement. When the child Walter clings on to Anne’s neck and refuses to obey Charles Hayter’s order to release her, the captain comes to the rescue by removing the child physically. Compared to Charles Hayter, the captain is characterized as manly and gallant. The incident certainly has a powerful effect on Anne: “She could only hang over little Charles, with the most disordered feelings. His kindness in stepping forward in relief—the manner—the silence in which it had passed—the little particulars of the circumstance. . .” (54). The brief, staccato phrases convey Anne’s elevated heartbeat to the reader.

Anne’s silent agitation increases as she spends more time around Captain Wentworth and the Miss Musgroves. On the outing to Winthrop, Anne finds pleasure in contemplating the scenic setting and repeating to herself poetic descriptions of “that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind of taste and tenderness” (56). Some critics have called this autumnal walk Wordsworthian, “emphasizing as it does the responsive ego” (Litz 41). Now, Austen draws more heavily on a satiric rather than true appreciation of Romanticism. Nonetheless, it is interesting to note that Anne attempts to find comfort in books—just like Sir Walter, when he reads the Baronetage. This parallel is particularly interesting because the attempt fails: upon hearing Captain Wentworth’s fervent admiration of Louisa, Anne is so agitated that she “could not immediately fall into a quotation again” (57). Poetry provides little more than a mere distraction, an inferior substitution to the company of Captain Wentworth.

For more on Anne Elliot's relation to Wordsworth, see Ann W. Astell's essay "Anne Elliot's Education: The Learning of Romance in Persuasion".

As the date of Lady Russell’s return approaches, Anne ponders how her move back to Kellynch Hall will affect her life. On the one hand, she will be closer to Captain Wentworth; but on the other hand, he spends so much time at Uppercross that she may be able to avoid seeing him as much. A greater cause of anxiety is the possible meeting of Lady Russell and Captain Wentworth, as the two do not like each other. Meanwhile, Captain Wentworth has just returned from a short absence of two days, during which he visited his old friend Captain Harville at Lyme. Since Captain Wentworth speaks so warmly of his friend and of Lyme, it is decided that the Cottage party and the Miss Musgroves will all accompany Captain Wentworth once again to Lyme.

The initial plan of making a day trip being revised into an overnight stay, the party sets out by carriage and arrives at Lyme in the early afternoon. After securing a room, the party promenades down to the sea. While the party contemplates the scenery, Captain Wentworth goes to meet Captain Benwick and returns with him, as well as with Captain and Mrs. Harville. Captain Benwick is particularly close to the Harvilles because he was formerly engaged to Captain Harville’s sister. The engagement had been prolonged until Captain Benwick won promotion and acquired fortune. Alas, Miss Harville did not live to know it, for she died while he was still at sea.

After making their way down to the Cobb (a stone breakwater around the harbor), the party visits the Harvilles and finds very small but charming quarters. Despite his lameness — or precisely because of his lameness — Captain Harville has put a significant effort into carpentering many “ingenious contrivances” to improve the lodging house. Seen together with all the rare artifacts that the captain has collected form his travels, the house appears to Anne as a “picture of repose and domestic happiness.” Indeed, the Harvilles are so unaffected and hospitable that, upon leaving, Louisa “burst forth into raptures of admiration and delight on the character of the navy — their friendliness, their brotherliness, their openness, their uprightness” (66).

In the evening, Captain Harville comes to visit along with Captain Benwick. Although the captain is shy in manners, Anne finds that he is well versed in poetry. The two discuss various romantic poems passionately. At the end of the evening, Anne goes so far as to recommend him to read prose, which may help alleviate his grief for the loss of Miss Harville.

The next morning, Anne and Henrietta rise early and take a stroll by the sea before breakfast. Henrietta delivers a brief speech, first stating that the sea air is beneficial to one’s health. Her point is that it may also benefit Dr. Shirley, the rector of Uppercross. If Dr. Shirley were to move to Lyme, this would be favorable for Henrietta, since Charles Hayter would probably be granted permission to perform his duties at Uppercross. Anne listens patiently to Henrietta’s speech, “as ready to do good by entering into the feelings of a young lady as of a young man [Captain Benwick]” (69). She sympathizes with Henrietta, who in turn declares that she wished she could consult with the influential Lady Russell.

After Captain Wentworth and Louisa join Anne and Henrietta, they pass a gentleman who glances at Anne in exceeding admiration (though “completely in a gentlemanly manner”). The ocean wind has rejuvenated Anne’s looks, for even Captain Wentworth seems to “see something like Anne Elliot again” (70). As everyone returns to the inn and has their breakfast, a carriage is heard drawing away. It turns out to be the man from earlier. Upon inquiry at the inn, the party learns that the man’s name is also Elliot. By deduction, it is decided that the man is a cousin, indeed none other than Sir William Walter Elliot, heir presumptive to Kellynch. Although Mary encourages Anne to write about the event to Bath, Anne thinks silently that it would be better not to do so, as the name of Mr. Elliot still irritates Sir Elliot and Elizabeth.

When the captains Harville and Benwick join the party at the inn, Anne finds herself once more discussing romantic poetry with Captain Benwick (specifically, Sir Walter Scott and Lord Byron). After a while, Captain Harville approaches her and declares that she has “done a good deed in making that poor fellow [Captain Benwick] talk so much” (72). Captain Harville goes on to explain that it was Captain Wentworth who, the previous summer, brought the tragic news to Captain Benwick and stayed with him for an entire week.

As the party approaches the Cobb, the ladies take the steps down to lower ground, but Louisa insists on being “jumped down” by Captain Wentworth (73). After she completes the jump successfully, she insists on repeating it once more — but this time, she jumps to early and falls to the ground, to be “taken up lifeless” (74). Amidst a general panic, Anne calls for a surgeon and suggests that Captain Benwick go instead of Captain Wentworth, as he is more familiar with the town. On the way back to the inn, the party meets the Harvilles, who take Louisa under their own care. When the surgeon arrives, he notes that Louisa has suffered severe contusions to the head, but deems her recovery by no means hopeless.

Given Louisa’s condition, it is deemed best for her to remain in Mrs. Harville’s care. In the meantime, Uppercross must be notified of the situation. Although it is first decided that Anne will remain at Lyme while Mary, Henrietta, and Captain Wentworth return to Uppercross, Mary’s jealousy results in her being switched with Anne. During the return home, Captain Wentworth devotes himself to comforting Henrietta. As they arrive at Uppercross, the captain consults Anne’s opinion on how to proceed, bringing her secret but great satisfaction. After the news is divulged to the parents, the captain returns to Lyme.

The next morning, Charles returns home with news: Louisa’s condition is stable, though a quick recovery cannot be expected, and Mrs. Harville has proven herself an excellent nurse. On the same day, various arrangements are made with Anne’s help. Anne also persuades the Musgroves to leave for Lyme on the following morning. Finally left alone at in the Great House, awaiting Lady Russell’s carriage to bring her back to Kellynch, Anne contemplates her sojourn at Uppercross. She has grown fond of Uppercross, to the extent that even as Lady Russell brings her news of the Elliots, she finds her thoughts wandering back to Lyme.

After three or four days, Anne receives word from Lyme that Louisa’s condition is improving. At this point, Lady Russell proposes that they pay Mrs. Croft a visit at Kellynch Hall. Although Lady Russell is displeased with the Crofts’ living in Kellynch Hall, Anne holds the Crofts in such high esteem that “she could not but in conscience feel. . . that Kellynch-hall had passed into better hands than its owners’” (82). The Crofts receive Lady Russell and Anne warmly. After discussing the accident at Lyme, the Crofts assure the two ladies that little has been changed at Kellynch Hall (except an improvement to the laundry door and the removal of some mirrors from Sir Elliot’s room). At the end of the visit, the Crofts announce that they will be away for a few weeks to visit relatives. And “so ended all danger to Anne of meeting Captain Wentworth at Kellynch-Hall” (85).

At Lyme, Louisa has improved to the point that she can sit up, but she still cannot return to Uppercross. Charles and Mary have spent a considerable time at Lyme, where Mary has found the change of locale agreeable. Since Mrs. Harville has been busy nursing Louisa, Mrs. Musgrove has taken it upon herself to oversee the Harville children. As for Captain Benwick, it appears that he has become a “heart-broken” man after Anne’s departure — a subject of some jealousy on Mary’s part. After some discussion of the captain’s character, the topic turns to Mr. Elliot. Lady Russell declares that she has no desire to see the man, considering his cold attitude towards Sir Elliot.

As Christmas approaches, Uppercross finds its former liveliness restored. Apart from Henrietta, all of the family has returned home. In addition, Mrs. Musgrove has brought over the Harville children again. After visiting Uppercross, Lady Russell and Anne drive to Bath, where it appears that Mr. Elliot has been calling repeatedly on Sir Elliot. Unlike Anne, Lady Russell does not enjoy the “bustles of Uppercross” and is eager to regain the quiet of Bath (89). As for Anne, “she felt that she would rather see Mr. Elliot again than not, which was more than she could say for many other persons at Bath” (90).

Analysis

The poetic mode of narration from the excursion to Winthrop continues when Musgroves and Anne visit Lyme with Captain Wentworth. The narrator evokes not only poetry but a sense of history in the description of Lyme’s environs:

Pinny, with its green chasms between romantic rocks, where the scattered forest trees and orchards of luxuriant growth declare that many a generation must have passed away since the first partial falling of the cliff prepared the ground for such a state. (64)

The Harvilles are characters in many ways synecdochical to the environment in which they live. Not only do they inspire admiration with their “bewitching degree of hospitality,” but their actions are entirely natural, friendly, and unassuming. As polar opposites to the likes of Sir Walter and Elizabeth, they pay no heed to the “usual style of give-and-take invitations, and dinners of formality and display.” They are so likeable that Anne almost falls into a depression when she realizes that she has no friends like the Harvilles. The narrator makes an additional point of extending the Harvilles’ personal charm into a generalization: Louisa admires not only their character, but also “the character of the navy” (66). Indeed, all of the naval officers and their wives are described as open and warm spirited—all except the melancholic and quiet Captain Benwick.

Anne’s interaction with Captain Benwick emphasizes one of her greatest strengths of character: gentleness. As Stuart M. Tave observes, “while Wentworth and Harville lead the talk on one side of the room,” Anne, “by her mildness and gentleness, encourages Benwick to talk and has her good effect on him” (Tave 32). Captain Benwick’s situation parallels her own from seven years ago, insofar as he has a lost a loved one. Anne thus makes an effort to be of “real use” and finds herself “well repaid [for] the first trouble of exertion” (67). For once, her word carries some weight.

As the two discuss the romantic poetry of Lord Byron and Sir Walter Scott, it becomes clear that Captain Benwick appreciates the particularly tragic poems because he identifies with them: “he repeated, with such tremulous feeling, the various lines which imagined a broken heart, or a mind destroyed by wretchedness, and looked so entirely as if he meant to be understood” (67). Aristotle writes, in the Poetics, that the goal of tragedy is catharsis—a release, purging, and purification. In Captain Benwick’s case, tragedy seems to have the opposite effect of intensifying his misery. Anne thus recommends that he take poetry in moderation and recommends him “a larger allowance of prose in his daily study” that includes the “strongest examples of moral and religious endurances” (68). As with the earlier scene of the autumnal walk to Winthrop, we learn that Anne appreciates poetry in part as a means to an end.

Reading, however, is not necessarily the only means by which Anne endured her separation from Captain Wentworth. When Louisa suffers her fateful fall at the Cobb, Anne demonstrates an admirable inner strength. It is she who has the presence of mind to call for a surgeon immediately; it is she who points out that Captain Benwick should go rather than Captain Wentworth. And just as she exerted herself with Captain Benwick on the previous evening, so too does she devote herself to the consideration of others: “Anne, attending with all the strength and zeal, and thought, which instinct supplied, to Henrietta, still tried, at intervals, to suggest comfort to the others, tried to quite Mary, to animate Charles, to assuage the feelings of Captain Wentworth” (75). It is ironic that the gentlest of the party should also be the most reassuring. But where truly important matters are concerned, her words carry a great deal of weight. Thus at the end of the day, Anne appears to have regained the respect of Captain Wentworth. When they return to Uppercross, he appeals to her for advice on how to proceed—and “the remembrance of the appeal remained a pleasure to her” (79).

In Louisa’s fall at the Cobb, incidentally, the critic Cheryl Ann Weissman notices a striking doubleness. When Anne first anticipates a meeting with Captain Wentworth, Mary’s son Charles falls and injures himself. Now, Louisa’s fall marks another turning point in the novel. Weissman writes: “The symmetry is as significant as it similarity; as the child’s fall heralds a courteous and cold reacquaintanceship, Louisa’s precipitates Wentworth’s recognition of love and his return to Anne” (Weissman 309). Another example of doubleness follows immediately after Louisa falls: when Henrietta faints after Louisa falls, passersby enjoy the sight of “a dead young lady, nay two dead young ladies, for it proved twice as fine as the first report (75). Weissman suggests that such examples, along with the doubling of names that occurs throughout the novel, creates a “cadence of poetic refrain.” The refrain in turn suggests that “implicit in the novel’s premise is a doubleness of time, for Persuasion is constructed like a palimpsest, an overlay through which we must decipher an original” (Weissman 310).

The parallelism in the scenes at Lyme, in particular, do invoke a strong sense of returning to the “original” story of Anne and Captain Wentworth. This return occurs as a function of Louisa's fall discussed above, but also in a physical manner. By the beach, the sea winds rejuvenate Anne’s complexion: “She was looking remarkably well. . . having the bloom and freshness of youth restored by the fine wind.” The tone is approving; Anne Elliot, who lost her bloom early, has regained it. Just as Mr. Elliot passes by and notices her prettiness, so too does Captain Wentworth “see something like Anne Elliot again” (70).

In Camden Place at Bath, Sir Walter has taken a dignified house. Although Anne dreads the months ahead that she must spend with Sir Walter, Elizabeth, and Mrs. Clay, she is surprised pleasantly by a cordial welcome. Her father and sister are eager to show her their house, which has become an extremely popular place to visit in Bath. All around, people seek their acquaintance. The excellent spirits at Camden Place are also attributable to Mr. Elliot, who has been restored completely in the Elliots’ good grace. He has managed to “explain away all the appearance of neglect on his own side,” and even the fault of his former marriage has been extenuated by new information (91).

To Anne, the situation remains somewhat mystifying. Why has Mr. Elliot decided to reestablish his connection with the rest of the family, after all these years? Indeed, “in all probability he was already the richer of the two, and the Kellynch estate would as surely be his hereafter as the title” (92). Anne arrives at the conclusion, then, that he must be seeking Elizabeth’s companionship — an idea that both Elizabeth and Mrs. Clay seem to have already taken up. Although Anne mentions her sightings of him at Lyme, the others pay her little heed, for they are busy describing him themselves. For the whole evening, Mr. Elliot and his friends are discussed. (Of Mr. Elliot’s friends, there is one Colonel Wallis who supposedly has a very beautiful wife — a rare sight, Sir Walter declares, among the plain women of Bath.)

At the end of the evening, just as Sir Walter inquires about Mary, a knock is heard at the door. It turns out to be Mr. Elliot himself, stopping by after a dinner in Lansdown Crescent. Anne finds him just as good-looking as she did in Lyme. As he joins their dinner table conversation, it also becomes clear to her that he possesses a “sensible, discerning mind,” in addition to excellent manners (94). About an hour is spent in discussion, during which Mr. Elliot inquires about the events at Lyme. “Anne could not have supposed it possible that her first evening in Camden-place could have passed so well” (95)!

Although Anne is curious as to whether Mr. Elliot is in love with Elizabeth, she is seriously watchful as to whether Sir Walter has fallen in love with Mrs. Clay. The answer is not at all clear, as Sir Walter seems to appeal to Mrs. Clay’s sensibilities in earnest. He even speaks to Anne about Mrs. Clay’s “improved looks” (96). For her part, Mrs. Clay’s intentions of going away seem nothing more than a “decent pretense” (95). Although Anne resigns herself to the situation — thinking that at least “the evil of the marriage would be much diminished, if Elizabeth were also to marry”— Lady Russell is much more vexed by Mrs. Clay’s favorable position in Camden Place.

Lady Russell also differs from Anne in her opinion of Mr. Elliot. To be sure, she agrees with Anne that he has good understanding, opinions, sensibilities, etc. But she finds it natural that he wishes to restore good relations with Sir Walter, whereas Anne still believes that his ulterior motive is to approach Elizabeth. (In terms of valuing rank and connection, Lady Russell and Mr. Elliot appear quite similar.) Anne also finds it strange that Mr. Elliot has recovered so quickly from the death of his wife, which occurred seven months ago. In any case, she is glad to know him, as he is “without any question their pleasantest acquaintance in Bath” (97).

One morning, the Bath paper announces the arrival of Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple and her daughter, the Honorable Miss Carteret, at Laura Place. Much to Anne’s dismay, they are cousins of the Elliots, so the Elliots are swept away by a desire to introduce themselves. Since there has been a lack of proper communications in recent years, the they agonize as to how to renew the connection “without any compromise on the side of the Elliots.” Finally, Sir Walter writes a “very fine letter of ample explanation, regret and entreaty” (98). The Elliots are introduced to Laura Place and consequently drop the phrase “our cousins, Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret” everywhere they go (99).

The whole ordeal makes Anne ashamed of her family, particularly as the two women of Laura Place have no “superiority of manner, accomplishment, or understanding.” These three adjectives, in Anne’s mind, form an idea of good company. Lady Russell and Mr. Elliot both believe, however, that Lady Dalrymple and Miss Carteret are nonetheless “an acquaintance worth having” (99). Mr. Elliot argues that it is wise to enjoy the advantages of one’s family connections as much as possible. If for no other reason, he concludes, it will distract Sir Walter’s attention from those “who are beneath him” — by which he means Mrs. Clay (100).

While Sir Walter and Elizabeth occupy themselves with Laura Place, Anne renews an old friendship with one Mrs. Smith, a woman three years her senior. Anne remembers Mrs. Smith fondly from her school days, when the latter’s friendship sustained her through homesickness and misery. Anne had heard that Mrs. Smith married soon after school. As it turns out, however, the man spent his money extravagantly and “left his affairs dreadfully involved” at death (101). Even worse, Mrs. Smith’s legs were crippled by rheumatic fever. On account of her legs, then, she has come to stay near the hot springs at Bath.

Despite the tremendous suffering that she has experienced, Mrs. Smith remains cheerful, sensible, and agreeable. “There had been a time,” Mrs. Smith tells Anne, “when her spirits had nearly failed” (102). In such a difficult time, however, her fortunes did not abandon her. Her landlady at Bath proved to be a charitable soul. In addition, the landlady’s sister was able to nurse Mrs. Smith and provide her with good companionship. Mrs. Smith reserves high praise for this nurse Rooke. A "shrewd, intelligent, sensible woman" who has a gift for observing human nature, Mrs. Rooke provides Mrs. Smith not only with gossip, but also with “something that makes one know one’s species better” (102-103). To the bedridden Mrs. Smith, such conversation offers great pleasure. Far from caviling at such pleasure, Anne sympathizes with Mrs. Smith and suggests that it must offer many noble lessons in humanity.

One afternoon, Sir Walter, Elizabeth, and Mrs. Clay return from Laura Place with an invitation from Lady Dalrymple to return the same evening. Since Anne already has an engagement with Mrs. Smith, she attempts to excuse herself. As the details of her friendship with Mrs. Smith emerge, Sir Walter and Elizabeth express their strong disapproval. It is unworthy of an Elliot, they believe, to be visiting a widow with little money and no title in Westgate Buildings. During this conversation, Mrs. Clay leaves the room silently. Anne leaves it to Sir Walter himself to recall that Mrs. Clay is not so different from Mrs. Smith.

Meanwhile, Lady Russell becomes increasingly convinced that Mr. Elliot intends to win Anne over — and that he would deserve her. The match would also mean that Anne would fill her mother’s place as mistress of Kellynch Hall. This last idea excites Anne as much as it does Lady Russell. Despite Lady Russell’s enthusiasm, however, Anne remains vaguely distrustful of Mr. Elliot. He is too at once too polished and too private. How can one know for certain that he has shed his morally suspicious ways of the past? Besides, Anne values openness and warmth above all — and in Mr. Elliot, “there was never any burst of feeling, any warmth of indignation or delight, at the evil or good of others” (106).

In the beginning of February, a month after Anne arrives in Bath, she receives from Mary a letter that is thicker than usual. The first part of the letter describes the quotidian events at Uppercross and mentions that Louisa will be returning home. The second part contains surprising news: Louisa and Captain Benwick have fallen in love, the captain has asked Mr. Musgrove for Louisa’s hand, and Mr. Musgrove has given his consent! In Anne, who deduces immediately how Louisa and Captain Benwick grew so fond of each other, the news incites a wonderful sense of joy. Captain Wentworth is now “unshackled and free” (111)!

Meanwhile, the Crofts have arrived at Bath and have taken a house on Gay Street. From Lady Russell’s carriage, Anne often sees the Crofts walking together, exchanging hearty greeting with friends. One day, however, she happens to walk alone and finds Admiral Croft also alone, contemplating a painting through a shop window. Admiral Croft says that he has something to tell Anne. As they walk together, the admiral explains to her that Captain Wentworth is not the least upset about Louisa’s marriage to Captain Benwick. On the contrary, he “very handsomely hopes that they will be happy together.” Anne does not understand very well what exactly the Admiral is attempting to convey to her. But the Admiral concludes by saying that he will try to have Captain Wentworth come to Bath, so that he can “begin all over again with somebody else” — “Do not you think, Miss Elliot, we had better try to get him to Bath” (115)?

Analysis

Why has Mr. Elliot made such an effort to be reconciled with Sir Walter and Elizabeth? From her perspective, his newfound efforts appear strange and irrational. She realizes, of course, that her second-hand perspective may be misguided: “all that sounded extravagant or irrational in the progress of the reconciliation might have no origin but in the language of the relators” (92). Nonetheless, Anne intuits that he must want something from the Elliots of Camden Place—something more than simply being on good terms with them, as Lady Russell believes. As it turns out, Anne’s intuition is correct fundamentally, but she misunderstands Mr. Elliot’s ulterior motives. The unraveling of Mr. Elliot’s true motives carries the novel’s plot to its end.

Meanwhile, Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple and her daughter, the Honorable Miss Carteret arrive in Bath. The Dalrymples are peers and thus rank clearly above the Elliots in society. The ensuing debate at Camden Place encapsulates the fine rules of the game in upper class society: how to make a proper self-introduction with compromising one’s dignity? For Sir Walter and Elizabeth, the all-important dignity, like honor, only exists through the conception of others — that is, how other see them. Their primary purpose in life is to be regarded highly by others (we recall that they chose Bath instead of London precisely so that they may be more “important”). When they are finally acquainted with the Dalrymples, therefore, the calling cards of the Viscountess and her daughter are displayed prominently at Camden Place. No matter that the Dalrymples are boring and unremarkable people; they are peers, and it is an honor to be related to them. The cards serve as a symbols of honor.

Anne, who values people for who they are, finds her father and sister’s fortune seeking with the Dalrymples shameful. Whereas Lady Russell maintains that the Dalrymples are “an acquaintance worth having,” Anne sees no merit in associating with people who would not be tolerated if not for their title (99). And yet, a sense of pride in family and class is not altogether absent from Anne. With regards to Mrs. Clay, she agrees with Mr. Elliot that a degrading and “evil” marriage for Sir Walter must be avoided at all costs (96). To be sure, Mrs. Clay is not a particularly worthy or fine woman to begin with. But even for Anne, pride of family is not so easily separated from the prejudice that accompanies it.

Prejudice amid the upper class contributes no small part to Mrs. Smith’s misery. A woman formerly of fashionable society, her fall into poverty has forced her into the lowly Westgate Buildings where no one of any consequence visits her. No one except Anne, of course, who remembers her personal debt to Mrs. Smith. Just as she did with Captain Benwick, Anne exerts herself in her gentle way and engages Mrs. Smith in much-appreciated conversation. The critic Susan Morgan writes that “one measure of Anne’s power to attach present and past and maintain the continuities of her life is her willingness to visit Mrs. Smith” (Morgan 98). Unlike the rest of society, Anne is willing to look beyond present conditions and cherish the past. Her reacquaintance with Mrs. Smith after twelve years prefigures the restoration of another, more important friendship and love.

The news of Captain Benwick’s engagement to Louisa encourages Anne’s hopes of regaining Captain Wentworth’s love. But how did the two “minds most dissimilar” become so attached to one another? Anne believes that the answer lies in their unique and vulnerable situation: “Louisa, just recovering from an illness, had been in an interesting sate, and Captain Benwick was not inconsolable” (110). So happy is Anne about Captain Wentworth’s being “unshackled and free” that her thoughts carry an uncharacteristic tinge of justification for an imperfect match:

She saw no reason against their being happy. Louisa had fine naval fervour to begin with, and they would soon grow more alike. He would gain cheerfulness, and she would learn to be an enthusiast for Scott and Lord Byron; nay, that was probably learn already; of course they had fallen in love over poetry. (111)

When Admiral Croft arrives at Bath, he tells Anne that Captain Wentworth rejoices in the engagement between Captain Benwick and Louisa. The admiral states that he has something to tell Anne, but does not elaborate in explicit terms. Instead, he states that “Poor Frederick. . . must begin all over with somebody else” (115). The Admiral’s tone is both subtle and suggestive. He remarks, for example, that “Here are pretty girls enough, I am sure”—not a very gallant comment in the presence of Anne, unless of course he refers to Anne herself by "pretty girls". . . . At least in the reader’s eyes, if not in Anne’s as well, Admiral Croft’s speech seems to foreshadow a happy ending.

Even as Admiral Croft and Anne discuss the possibility of Captain Wentworth coming to Bath, the captain is already on his way. One day, Anne happens to be on Milsom Street with Mr. Elliot, Elizabeth, and Mrs. Clay when it begins to rain. Mr. Elliot spots Lady Dalrymple’s carriage on the street and requests that she take home the three ladies of Camden Place. Since Miss Carteret is with Lady Dalrymple (and there are only four places in the carriage), it is decided that Anne will walk with Mr. Elliot. While they all await the lady’s carriage inside a confectioner’s, Captain Wentworth walks in with some acquaintances. After exchanging some vaguely embarrassed words, the captain offers to arrange a carriage for Anne. Anne declines politely, as Mr. Elliot will be walking her home.

After Anne and Mr. Elliot leave the confectioner’s, the ladies of Captain Wentworth’s party speculate as to a potential relationship between the two. But on the way back to Camden Place, all Anne can think about is Captain Wentworth. How long will he be in Bath? Will Lady Russell remember him? What will happen when she sees him?

The next morning, Anne and Lady Russell are in their carriage when they pass Captain Wentworth on the street. Anne is so occupied by Lady Russell’s gaze — which turns out to be examining a curtain rather than Captain Wentworth — that she does not know whether the captain sees them or not. After a few uneventful days, Anne finds herself looking forward to an evening party, where she will most likely see the captain: “If she could only have a few minutes conversation with him again, she fancied she should be satisfied” (119). In order to be able to attend the party, she cancels a tentative engagement with Mrs. Smith.

The Elliots and Mrs. Clay are the first to arrive at the party, followed by Captain Wentworth. Anne engages the captain in conversation almost immediately. After covering everyday topics, the two begin to discuss the events at Lyme and the marriage between Louisa and Captain Benwick. Captain Wentworth expresses his happiness for the couple but also observes “a disparity, too great a disparity” between them. While Louisa is an agreeable and understanding girl, she lacks Captain Benwick’s intelligence and sophistication. Equally troubling to Captain Wentworth, perhaps, is the fact that Captain Benwick seems to have recovered from the loss of Fanny Harville. He exclaims: “A man does not recover from such a devotion to the heart to such a woman!—He ought not—he does not” (121).

Perhaps because Captain Benwick’s story reminds Anne and Captain Wentworth of their own history, the conversation drifts back to Louisa’s accident. Anne remarks that pain can often form, in retrospect, its own form of pleasure. At this point, Lady Dalrymple enters the room with Miss Carteret and Anne is separated from Captain Wentworth. The party soon moves to the concert room, where Elizabeth and Anne both find themselves in a happy situation — Elizabeth, because she walks arm in arm with Miss Carteret, and Anne, because she realizes that Captain Wentworth must love her after all.

In her state of pleasant agitation, Anne takes great pleasure in the entertainment of the evening. During an intermission of the concert, Anne explains the meaning of an Italian song to Mr. Elliot. Anne’s knowledge of Italian prompts Mr. Elliot to praise her as both accomplished and modest. He goes on to note that her reputation precedes her: many years ago, he had already been charmed by a description of her by an acquaintance. Could it have been Captain Wentworth’s brother, the Edward Wentworth of Monkford?

Before Anne has much time to think over Mr. Elliot’s words, a different conversation catches her full attention. Immediately behind her, Lady Dalrymple and Sir Walter are discussing Captain Wentworth and his fine looks. Anne then catches the eye of Captain Wentworth, who is standing at a distance among some men. At this point, Anne wishes for nothing more than to leave Mr. Elliot’s side and to speak with Captain Wentworth. The captain, however, remains at a distance. When he comes to her at last, Anne finds him much more reserved than before. Although he warms up to her after a few minutes, Mr. Elliot, who asks Anne to translate some Italian for Miss Carteret, soon interrupts their conversation. After Anne finishes the translation, Captain Wentworth wishes her a hurried and reserved goodbye. Anne realizes that the captain must be jealous — of Mr. Elliot!

The next morning, Anne looks forward to visiting Mrs. Smith, particularly as it will most likely allow her to avoid Mr. Elliot. Although his attention flatters her, Anne can think only of Captain Wentworth at present. For the same reason, she cannot satisfy Mrs. Smith’s curiosity about various people who attended the concert last night. Mrs. Smith deduces that she must have been in good company. She remarks: “Your countenance perfectly informs me that you were in company last night with the person, whom you think the most agreeable in the world” (128). But how could Mrs. Smith know about Captain Wentworth? As it turns out, Mrs. Smith is thinking of Mr. Elliot.

Based on rumors heard from Mrs. Rooke, Mrs. Smith speculates that Anne and Mr. Elliot are on intimate terms—indeed, that the two will soon marry. When Anne denies any truth in such speculations, Mrs. Smith attempts to convince her that Mr. Elliot is “safe.” She declares: “Mr. Elliot has sense to understand such a woman [as you]. . . You are safe in worldly matters, and safe in his character” (130). Her only request is that Anne let her know when they are married, as she has some business with Mr. Elliot. Finally, Anne manages to conveys to Mrs. Smith that there is a man other than Mr. Elliot in her life. This allows Mrs. Smith to speak her true opinion of Mr. Elliot — that he is “a man without heart or conscience; a designing, wary, cold-blooded being, who. . . for his own interest or ease, would be guilty of any cruelty, or any treachery, that could be perpetrated without risk of his general character” (132).

Mrs. Smith has known Mr. Elliot for a long time, as he was an intimate friend of her late husband Mr. Smith. At the time, Mr. Elliot did not have enough money to live like a proper gentleman. He thus spent a great deal of time with the Smiths, who treated him like a brother and often assisted him financially. When Mr. Elliot made the acquaintance of Sir Walter and Elizabeth, he realized that Sir Walter was “designing a match between the heir and the young lady” (133). Since he was determined to make his fortune through marriage — and valued money much more than honor — he declined invitations to visit Kellynch Hall. He subsequently purchased his independence through marriage to a wealthy woman who fell in love with him.

Mrs. Smith’s account does not shock Anne per se; she has heard or divined much about Mr. Elliot’s past. What does shock her, however, is a letter from Mr. Elliot to Mr. Smith that Mrs. Smith has kept. It speaks of the Sir Walter, Kellynch, and the Elliot name all highly disrespectfully, concluding:

I wish I had any name but Elliot. I am sick of it. The name of Walter I can drop, thank God! and I desire you will never insult me with my second W. again, meaning, for the rest of my life, to be only yours truly,
Wm. ELLIOT. (135)

The letter fully proves Mrs. Smith’s account of the past. But why, Anne wonders, does Mr. Elliot wish to make their acquaintance now?

According to Mrs. Smith’s sources, Mr. Elliot now truly wishes to marry Anne. But this does not account for the fact that Mr. Elliot established himself at Camden Place before Anne’s arrival. In fact, his original reason involved not Anne but Mrs. Clay. It had been rumored at Bath that Mrs. Clay meant to become Lady Elliot. It had also been said that “Miss Elliot [was] apparently blind to the danger” (137). Now, Mr. Elliot, who had already made a sufficient fortune, was no longer indifferent to the title that he presumed to inherit. Should Mrs. Clay become Lady Elliot and bear sons, of course, the title would no longer be his. Mr. Elliot had good reason, then, to reestablish his relationship with the Elliots and watch over Sir Walter. Thus Anne realizes that “Mr. Elliot is evidently a disingenuous, artificial, worldly man, who has never had any better principle to guide him than selfishness” (138).

Mrs. Smith’s has further grievances against Mr. Elliot. After Mr. Elliot acquired a fortune through marriage, he led Mr. Smith to spend money beyond his means. By the time Mr. Smith passed away, the Smiths were ruined. To aggravate the situation even further, Mr. Elliot refused to execute the will that was bestowed upon him by Mr. Smith. Reading over some letters from the time, Anne realizes that “it was a dreadful picture of ingratitude and inhumanity; and Anne felt at some moments, that no flagrant open crime could have been worse” (139). To this day, Mrs. Smith has been unable to recover some property of her husband’s in the West Indies that might rescue her from poverty — all due to Mr. Elliot’s inaction.

Finally, Anne expresses her surprise at the fact Mrs. Smith seemed to recommend Mr. Elliot initially. Mrs. Smith explains that she did not have the heart to speak the truth. She thought the marriage was certain. Indeed, Anne herself can imagine “that she might have been persuaded by Lady Russell” to marry Mr. Elliot (140! There remains no question that Lady Russell must know the full truth about Mr. Elliot.

Analysis

As Captain Wentworth arrives in Bath, the narrative begins to build up tension steadily between Captain Wentworth and Anne. When the two meet at the confectioner’s, his manner suggests a change in the way he thinks of her: “He was more obviously struck and confused by the sight of her, than she had ever observed before; he looked quite red.” He not only appears flustered, but also acts with an unusual self-consciousness: “He spoke to her, and then turned away. The character of his manner was embarrassment.” As we learn of Captain Wentworth’s manner, we also learn of Anne’s feelings: “It was agitation, pain, pleasure, a something between delight and misery” (116). Who can doubt that this “something between delight and misery” is love? As the critic and poet Anne Carson tells us in her study on eros, “simultaneous pleasure and pain” have defined love since antiquity (Carson 63).

Still, the reader in support of Captain Wentworth and Anne cannot yet relax. We do not know what Captain Wentworth really thinks or feels, or whether Anne betrays her emotional excitement as he does his. Moreover, Elizabeth refuses to recognize the captain. Although Anne usually pays little heed to Elizabeth, “she had the pain of seeing her sister turn away with unalterable coldness”—a coldness that played a part in the untimely end of her relationship with Captain Wentworth seven years ago (117). Finally, there is Mr. Elliot. When Mr. Elliot leaves the confectionary with Anne, the ladies in Captain Wentworth’s company speculate about an intimacy forming between the two. On what thoughts and emotions such speculation incites in the captain, the narrative remains tantalizingly silent. The effect is the reverse of dramatic irony: the captain knows something important that we desperately wish to know.

The above tensions surrounding Anne and Captain Wentworth culminate in the scene of Lady Dalrymple’s concert. Regarding Captain Benwick’s recent attachment to Louisa, Captain Wentworth voices his surprise and disapproval. He declares that a man who was truly devoted to a “very superior creature” like Fanny Harville should not be able to recover so quickly from a loss so quickly (121). The implications of such a comment are at once delightful and agitating to both Anne and Captain Wentworth himself. How long should it take for a man to recover from the loss of a truly loved one—a year, five years, or perhaps more than seven years? With so many telltale signs accumulating, Anne finally dares to believe that the captain “must love her” (123). The present tense of the phrase is telling. Part of Anne’s charm is her underlying belief, encouraged by the captain’s talk of long-term attachment, that love is continuous. It is not that he still loves her; either he loves her or he doesn’t. As the narrative builds up to its climax, however, the story must take a final turn before arriving at its conclusion.

When Mrs. Smith learns that Anne does not intend to marry Mr. Elliot, she drops her pretense of praise and reveals his true nature: “Oh! He is black at heart, hollow and black” (132). She proceeds to make her case against Mr. Elliot — how she and her husband were so generous to Mr. Elliot, and how Mr. Elliot consequently ruined them. In essence, Mr. Elliot becomes the antagonist over whom Captain Wentworth must triumph. Now, even though Anne raises the possibility that Lady Russell might have persuaded her to marry Mr. Elliot, it is clear that she neither likes nor really trusts him. Mrs. Smith’s account, therefore, does not have a significant influence on the plot. It must then serve another purpose in the novel.

Susan Morgan interprets Mrs. Smith’s account as Austen’s satire on the conventions of romance. She writes: “Mrs. Smith’s revelation, like Mr. Elliot’s wicked character, is a conscious fictional cliché” (Morgan 89). Many parts of her account appear deliberate and stylized. When explaining Mr. Elliot’s character, for example, Mrs. Smith feels compelled to produce a precious “small inlaid box” as proof of her account (134). As Morgan observes, “she offers Anne the kind of knowledge which can be put in a box, with its trust in ‘objectivity’ overlaid by stylized emotions, as if truth were outside our perception of it” (Morgan 90). The ironic disjunction between subjective and objective perspectives lies at the heart of sentimentalism, which Austen ridicules in many of her novels. Indeed, Mrs. Smith’s box recalls that of her fictional relative, Harriet Smith, in Emma. Harriet Smith’s box of “Most precious treasures” contains a pencil stub and a bit of court plaster as souvenirs of a man she loved.

Unlike Harriet Smith, however, Mrs. Smith is no comic character. While Austen may be satirizing a romantic convention, the circumstances under which Mrs. Smith’s account emerges also present a moral problem. As Anne notes, it is surprising that Mrs. Smith recommends Mr. Elliot initially, given her knowledge of Mr. Elliot’s past. On the one hand, Mrs. Smith seems to justify herself sufficiently: she believed that Anne and Mr. Elliot were truly in love with each other and did not wish to ruin their relationship. On the other hand, Mrs. Smith could not speak against Mr. Elliot if she was to have any hope of recovering her property with Anne’s help. As it turns out, her course of action has no effect on Anne’s life. Judging a decision based on its consequences, however, is a problem that the novel returns to in its final chapters.

Anne returns home relieved to know the truth about Mr. Elliot. Her friendship with Mrs. Smith has, in a sense, paid off (although Anne would never think herself entitled to such a reward). Now she must consult Lady Russell about the matter as soon as possible. Upon reaching Camden Place, she is glad to find that Mr. Elliot has already left. Alas, Elizabeth has engaged him to return on the very same evening. As usual, Mrs. Clay pretends that she is pleased to expect “the very person whose presence must really be interfering with her prime object” (142). When Mr. Elliot returns, Anne finds his presence distressing. His fine manners and gentle smiles now seem fake, hypocritical, even odious.

The next morning, Mr. Elliot leaves Bath on a two-day trip. His absence from Camden Place comforts Anne, as the combination of Mr. Elliot and Mrs. Clay has become truly unbearable. On the same morning, Anne decides to visit Lady Russell and tell her Mrs. Smith’s story. Just after Elizabeth and Sir Walter give Anne their regards to Lady Russell, however, knocking is heard at the door. To Anne’s pleasant surprise, a servant announces the arrival of Mary and Charles Musgrove. Along with Mrs. Musgrove, Henrietta, and Captain Harville, they have taken a room at the White Hart. The Captain has come on business; Mrs. Musgrove has come to see some friends; Charles and Mary have simply tagged along; and Henrietta has come to look at wedding clothes for herself and her sister.

For a while, Charles updates Anne on life at Uppercross. It appears that Charles Hayter has increased his income fortuitously, leading to consent of marriage from both families. Although Mr. Musgrove wished that Charles Hayter had more money, he is otherwise happy with the match. While Mary has not changed her low opinion of Charles Hayter, Charles himself finds him a likeable and an altogether fair match for Henrietta. As for Louisa, she has calmed down considerably and now enjoys listening to Captain Benwick read her poetry. All in all, life at Uppercross seems filled with happiness.

The Musgroves’ visit, too, turns out well. Satisfied with the journey in Mrs. Musgrove’s carriage, Mary is in excellent spirits to admire the various fine points of Camden Place. Elizabeth feels that she should invite Mrs. Musgrove’s party to dinner but is too ashamed to have the “difference in style, the reduction of servants, which a dinner must betray, witnessed by those who had been always so inferior to the Elliots of Kellynch” (146). Fortunately, she finds the satisfactory alternative of inviting them to an evening party with the Dalrymples.

Since the Musgroves have come to Bath, Anne postpones her plans to visit Lady Russell. She instead goes to find Mrs. Musgrove and Henrietta at the White Hart, where she receives a hearty and warm welcome. After a flurry of morning activities at the hotel, Charles returns with the Captains Harville and Wentworth. Suddenly, Mary cries that she sees Mrs. Clay and Mr. Elliot outside the window. Anne responds that Mr. Elliot is not in bath — and feels the Captain’s eyes on her immediately. It appears that rumors of her and Mr. Elliot have spread beyond the confines of Bath society.

Meanwhile, Mary and Charles begin to argue about the following day’s evening activities. Whereas Charles has secured a box at the theater, Mary is appalled at the thought of missing the party at Camden Place — indeed, the chance to meet Dalrymples and Mr. Elliot. The party defers the judgment to Anne, who suggests that it may be best to postpone the play (although she personally wouldn’t mind missing the party). Anne then begins a conversation with Captain Wentworth that is cut short by Henrietta’s calling and, soon thereafter, the arrival of Sir Walter and Elizabeth. The two stay only long enough to exchange the proper formalities and to extend invitations for the next day’s evening party. Afterwards, Anne returns to Camden Place and contributes to the party preparations. Although Anne mentions to Mrs. Clay that she was seen with Mr. Elliot, Mrs. Clay does not give away the nature of their conversation.

The next morning, the inclement weather prevents Anne from arriving punctually for breakfast at the White Hart. Mary and Henrietta have gone out briefly but are to return soon. Shortly after Anne arrives, Captain Wentworth speaks to Captain Harville about writing a letter. Meanwhile, Mrs. Musgrove is giving Mrs. Croft the account of Henrietta’s engagement in some detail. The two women conclude that there is nothing so abominable as a long engagement for a young couple — and that Henrietta and Charles Hayter are correct to marry at present, even though their income remains somewhat small.

At this point, Captain Harville beckons Anne over to a window. He shows her a portrait of Captain Benwick, which was originally made for Fanny Harville and is now being reset for Louisa. The captain notes sadly that his sister would not have forgotten Captain Benwick so soon. Anne responds that the same could be said for any woman who truly loved. The two continue to discuss the nature of attachment in men and women and how they differ. Whereas Captain Harville believes that men are capable of “riding out the heaviest weather” in their attachments, Anne asserts that women are capable of “loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone” (157).

After Captain Wentworth finishes his letter, he leaves with Captain Harville and Mrs. Croft. Only moments later, however, he reenters the room to retrieve his gloves. Without being noticed by Mrs. Musgrove, the captain “place[s] [a letter] before Anne with eyes of glowing entreaty” (157). While he was writing Captain Benwick’s letter, he had also been writing to Anne:

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. . . Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. . . I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look will be enough to decide whether I enter your father’s house this evening, or never. (158)

On Union Street, the two meet Captain Wentworth. The captain appears uncertain as to whether to join them — but a glowing look from Anne decides the matter. Charles Musgrove then suggests that the captain walk Anne back to Camden Place. Instead of returning home directly, the two walk towards a quieter road, where they exchange “those feelings and those promises which had once before seemed to secure every thing, but which had been followed by so many, many years of division and estrangement” (160). Gradually, a full picture of the events in the past months emerges: how Captain Wentworth found himself in a predicament when he attached himself to Louisa, how he was saved fortuitously by Captain Benwick, how he was jealous of Mr. Elliot. . . .

The evening ends most pleasantly for Anne — never had a commonplace party seemed so short. In brief intervals, she manages to speak with Captain Wentworth. Reflecting over the past, she has decided that she was correct to follow Lady Russell’s advice. Not that the advice was wrong—“it was, perhaps, one of those cases in which advice is god or bad only as the event decides” — but that she would have suffered in her conscience by continuing the engagement (164). The captain believes that he will be able to forgive Lady Russell over time. He also realizes, however, that his greatest enemy was not Lady Russell but himself: he was too proud to ask for Anne’s hand again. For his pride, they have lost six years.

“Who can be in doubt of what followed” (165)? With every advantage of maturity and an independent fortune, Anne and Captain Wentworth can now marry regardless of any opposition. And in reality they are met with little resistance. Both Sir Walter and Elizabeth accept the match without objection; Lady Russell requires some time to reevaluate her conceptions, but her love for Anne gives her understanding; and Mary is happy to see her sister marry (to a man richer than Captain Benwick or Charles Hayter!). Of course, the engagement destroys Mr. Elliot’s plan of domestic happiness. He soon leaves Bath and establishes Mrs. Clay “under his protection” in London — a turn of events that shock Sir Walter and Elizabeth deeply (167).

After Anne and Captain Wentworth marry, the captain manages to recover Mrs. Smith’s late husband’s property in the West Indies. It is a source of great happiness to Anne that the captain attaches himself to both Lady Russell and Mrs. Smith — her two true friends in the world. “Anne was tenderness itself, and she had the full worth of Captain Wentworth’s affection. . . She gloried in being a sailor’s wife, but she must pay the tax of quick alarm for belonging to a profession which is, if possible, more distinguished in its domestic virtues than in its national importance.” (168).

Analysis

In the last chapters of the novel, the worlds of Kellynch, Uppercross, and even Lyme converge at Bath. At the Elliot reunion at Camden Place, all parties are satisfied because their vanities are satisfied: Mary has enjoyed the ride in Mrs. Musgrove’s large carriage, which in turn disposes her to praise the house and delight Sir Walter and Elizabeth. Elizabeth is also pleased with herself because she will be able to invite the Musgroves to a party with the Dalrymples. As usual, Mary and Charles get into an argument; as usual, their opinion is deferred to Anne.

While social life continues its usual and perpetual cycle, a significant event has brought Henrietta to Bath: she has come to shop for wedding dresses. The engagement between Henrietta and Charles Hayter — whose parents have finally consented to their marriage — has special importance to Anne. Indeed, the couples’ situation parallels that of her own with regards to Captain Wentworth seven years ago: although Charles Hayter is a respectable man, he has neither family nor fortune to his name. Despite a recent increase, his income remains modest. And yet, Mrs. Croft and Mrs. Musgrove both conclude that marriage is the correct course of action. They thus affirm a position opposite to that of Lady Russell’s seven years ago. Implicitly, or indirectly, they affirm that Anne was mistaken to break off her engagement with Captain Wentworth.

Meanwhile, Captain Harville shows Anne the portrait of Captain Benwick, once made for Fanny Harville and now being reset for Louisa. Although many months have passed since Fanny Harville’s death, Captain Harville finds that Captain Benwick has forgotten her too soon—she, for one, would have remembered him for longer. This opinion seems to reflect the general consensus among those familiar with the situation. The novel’s moral atmosphere is such that long-term mourning is respected and remembrance is cherished. With his appreciation for romantic poetry and its celebration of anguish, Captain Benwick appeared to conform to such an atmosphere. Perhaps, as Anne suggests in Lyme, he has been reading too much poetry.

Anne’s discussion with Captain Harville leads to her longest and most fateful dialogue in the novel. Anne’s essential argument is that women love longer par excellence by circumstance rather than by nature. For men—and particularly naval men—life is full of perils toils: "‘Neither time, nor health, nor life, to be called your own. It would be too hard indeed’ (with a faltering voice) ‘if woman’s feelings were to be added to all this’” (155). For women, on the other hand, life does not have so much action in store. Loving longer, in Anne’s opinion, can be called a dubious honor: “All the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very enviable one, you need not covet it) is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone” (157). The pertinence to her comments to her own life is clear.

Although the dialogue occurs spontaneously, stemming from a discussion of Captain Benwick, one wonders whether Captain Harville has not set up the situation subtly. The narrative, at least, suggests a sense of staging through parenthetical indications of voice: in the above quotation, Anne speaks “(with a faltering voice).” This narrative device, which calls attention to itself because it is rarely used in the novel, works like a stage direction. In the audience, of course, sits Captain Wentworth, who is riveted by the debate. The critic John Wiltshire observes that “Anne and Wentworth change their typical narrative positions—she speaking, he hanging on her words, she narrating (if indirectly) her deepest experience of life. . . Anne’s speeches combine the authorizing procedures of rational debate with the authenticity of (indirect) confession” (Wiltshire 197). Indeed, Anne’s dialogue with Captain Harville has the effect of a staged dialogue but benefits from the authenticity that its form provides.

The final chapter of the novel opens:

Who can be in doubt of what followed? When any two young people take it into their heads to marry, they are pretty sure by perseverance to carry their point, be they ever so poor, or ever so imprudent, or ever so little likely to be necessary to each other’s ultimate comfort. This may be bad morality to conclude with, but I believe it to be truth. (165)

Anne’s own take on the manner, however, remains curiously equivocal. She believes that, despite her suffering, she “was perfectly right in being misguided by Lady Russell.” But Anne does not mean simply that she was correct to follow Lady Russell’s good intentions and prudential morality. She explains in a contemplative tone: “I am not saying that she did not err in her advice. It was, perhaps, one of those cases in which advice is good or bad only as the event decides” (164). As Hopkins notes, Anne’s thoughts reflect what has been in the twentieth century called consequentialism. Proponents of consequentialism believe that an action’s consequence form a basis for valid moral judgment of the same action. But if Anne’s decision seven years ago turned out to be “bad,” what would have been a “good” consequence? If Captain Wentworth had died at sea? Let us recall Anne’s original persuasion about her engagement to Captain Wentworth: “She was persuaded that under every disadvantage of disapprobation at home. . . she should yet have been a happier woman in maintaining the engagement, than she had been in the sacrifice of it” (20). Whether such a persuasion conflicts with Anne’s final judgment of the matter is a question that the novel leaves for the reader to decide.

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