Anne in Kellynch church, in the course of the following autumn.

Chapter 18

It was the beginning of February; and Anne, having been a month in
Bath, was growing very eager for news from Uppercross and Lyme. She
wanted to hear much more than Mary had communicated. It was three
weeks since she had heard at all. She only knew that Henrietta was at
home again; and that Louisa, though considered to be recovering fast,
was still in Lyme; and she was thinking of them all very intently one
evening, when a thicker letter than usual from Mary was delivered to
her; and, to quicken the pleasure and surprise, with Admiral and Mrs
Croft's compliments.

The Crofts must be in Bath! A circumstance to interest her. They were
people whom her heart turned to very naturally.

"What is this?" cried Sir Walter. "The Crofts have arrived in Bath?
The Crofts who rent Kellynch? What have they brought you?"

"A letter from Uppercross Cottage, Sir."

"Oh! those letters are convenient passports. They secure an
introduction. I should have visited Admiral Croft, however, at any
rate. I know what is due to my tenant."

Anne could listen no longer; she could not even have told how the poor
Admiral's complexion escaped; her letter engrossed her. It had been
begun several days back.

"February 1st.

"My dear Anne,--I make no apology for my silence, because I know how
little people think of letters in such a place as Bath. You must be a
great deal too happy to care for Uppercross, which, as you well know,
affords little to write about. We have had a very dull Christmas; Mr
and Mrs Musgrove have not had one dinner party all the holidays. I do
not reckon the Hayters as anybody. The holidays, however, are over at
last: I believe no children ever had such long ones. I am sure I had
not. The house was cleared yesterday, except of the little Harvilles;
but you will be surprised to hear they have never gone home. Mrs
Harville must be an odd mother to part with them so long. I do not
understand it. They are not at all nice children, in my opinion; but
Mrs Musgrove seems to like them quite as well, if not better, than her
grandchildren. What dreadful weather we have had! It may not be felt
in Bath, with your nice pavements; but in the country it is of some
consequence. I have not had a creature call on me since the second
week in January, except Charles Hayter, who had been calling much
oftener than was welcome. Betwee