she might have
considerably increased the difficulties of the situation. Mary she found
as selfish, as querulous, as ready to think herself ailing, as lacking
in sense and understanding, as unable to manage her children as ever.

Charles Musgrove was civil and agreeable; in sense and temper he was
undoubtedly superior to his wife, though neither his powers nor his
conversation were remarkable. He did nothing with much zeal but sport;
and his time was otherwise trifled away without benefit from books or
anything else. He had, however, excellent spirits, which never seemed
much affected by his wife's occasional moroseness; and he bore with her
unreasonableness sometimes to Anne's admiration. As for the Miss
Musgroves, Henrietta and Louisa, young ladies of nineteen and twenty,
they were living to be fashionable, happy and merry. Their dress had
every advantage, their faces were pretty, their spirits good, their
manners unembarrassed and pleasant; they were of consequence at home,
and favourites abroad.

The Crofts took possession of Kellynch Hall with true naval alertness,
and, naturally enough, intercourse was soon established between them and
the Musgroves. Soon it was known that the admiral's brother-in-law,
Captain Wentworth, had come to stop with them; and one day he made the
inevitable call at the Cottage on his way to shoot with Charles. It was
soon over. Anne's eyes half met his; a bow, a courtesy passed. He talked
to Mary, said all that was right, said something to the Miss Musgroves,
enough to mark an easy footing. Charles showed himself at the window,
all was ready, their visitor had bowed and was gone; the Miss Musgroves
were gone, too, suddenly resolving to walk to the end of the village
with the sportsmen.

She had seen him; they had met. They had been once more in the same
room. Now, how were his sentiments to be read? On one question she was
soon spared all suspense; for, after the Miss Musgroves had returned and
finished their visit at the Cottage, she had this spontaneous
information from Mary: "Captain Wentworth is not very gallant by you,
Anne, though he was so attentive to me. Henrietta asked him what he
thought of you. 'You were so altered he should not have known you
again,' he said."

Doubtless it was so; and she could take no revenge, for he was not
altered, or not for the worse. No; the years which had destroyed her
bloom had only given him a more glowing, manly, open look, in no respect
less