They were obliged to move. Anne talked of being perfectly ready, and
tried to look it; but she felt that could Henrietta have known the
regret and reluctance of her heart in quitting that chair, in preparing
to quit the room, she would have found, in all her own sensations for
her cousin, in the very security of his affection, wherewith to pity
her.
Their preparations, however, were stopped short. Alarming sounds were
heard; other visitors approached, and the door was thrown open for Sir
Walter and Miss Elliot, whose entrance seemed to give a general chill.
Anne felt an instant oppression, and wherever she looked saw symptoms
of the same. The comfort, the freedom, the gaiety of the room was
over, hushed into cold composure, determined silence, or insipid talk,
to meet the heartless elegance of her father and sister. How
mortifying to feel that it was so!
Her jealous eye was satisfied in one particular. Captain Wentworth was
acknowledged again by each, by Elizabeth more graciously than before.
She even addressed him once, and looked at him more than once.
Elizabeth was, in fact, revolving a great measure. The sequel
explained it. After the waste of a few minutes in saying the proper
nothings, she began to give the invitation which was to comprise all
the remaining dues of the Musgroves. "To-morrow evening, to meet a few
friends: no formal party." It was all said very gracefully, and the
cards with which she had provided herself, the "Miss Elliot at home,"
were laid on the table, with a courteous, comprehensive smile to all,
and one smile and one card more decidedly for Captain Wentworth. The
truth was, that Elizabeth had been long enough in Bath to understand
the importance of a man of such an air and appearance as his. The past
was nothing. The present was that Captain Wentworth would move about
well in her drawing-room. The card was pointedly given, and Sir Walter
and Elizabeth arose and disappeared.
The interruption had been short, though severe, and ease and animation
returned to most of those they left as the door shut them out, but not
to Anne. She could think only of the invitation she had with such
astonishment witnessed, and of the manner in which it had been
received; a manner of doubtful meaning, of surprise rather than
gratification, of polite acknowledgement rather than acceptance. She
knew him; she saw disdain in his eye, and could not venture to believe
that he had determined to accept such an offering, as an atonement for
all the insolence of the past. Her spirits sank. He held the card in
his hand after they were gone, as if deeply considering it.