They had nearly done breakfast, when the sound of a carriage, (almost the first they had heard since entering Lyme) drew half the party
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to the window. It was a gentleman’s carriage, a curricle, but only coming round from the stable-yard to the front door; somebody must be going away. It was driven by a servant in mourning.
The word curricle made Charles Musgrove jump up that he might compare it with his own; the servant in mourning roused Anne’s curiosity, and the whole six were collected to look, by the time the owner of the curricle was to be seen issuing from the door amidst the bows and civilities of the household, and taking his seat, to drive off.
“Ah!” cried Captain Wentworth, instantly, and with half a glance at Anne,
“it is the very man we passed.”
The Miss Musgroves agreed to it; and having all kindly watched him as far up the hill as they could, they returned to the breakfast table.
The waiter came into the room soon afterwards.
“Pray,” said Captain Wentworth, immediately, “can you tell us the name of the gentleman who is just gone away?”
“Yes, Sir, a Mr Elliot, a gentleman of large fortune, came in last night from Sidmouth. Dare say you heard the carriage, sir, while you were at dinner; and going on now for Crewkherne, in his way to Bath and London.”
“Elliot!” Many had looked on each other, and many had repeated the name, before all this had been got through, even by the smart rapidity of a waiter.
“Bless me!” cried Mary; “it must be our cousin; it must be our Mr Elliot, it must, indeed! Charles, Anne, must not it? In mourning, you see, just as our Mr Elliot must be. How very extraordinary!
In the very same inn with us! Anne, must not it be our Mr Elliot?
my father’s next heir? Pray sir,” turning to the waiter,
“did not you hear, did not his servant say whether he belonged to the Kellynch family?”
“No, ma’am, he did not mention no particular family; but he said his master was a very rich gentleman, and would be a baronight some day.”
“There! you see!” cried Mary in an ecstasy, “just as I said!
Heir to Sir Walter Elliot! I was sure that would come out, if it was so. Depend upon it, that is a circumstance which his servants take care to publish, wherever he goes. But, Anne, only conceive how extraordinary! I wish I had looked at him more. I wish we had been aware in time, who it was, that he might have been introduced to us.
What a pity that we should not have been introduced to each other!
Do you think he had the Elliot countenance? I hardly looked at him, I was looking at the horses; but I think he had something of the Elliot countenance, I wonder the arms did not strike me!
Oh! the great-coat was hanging over the panel, and hid the arms, so it did; otherwise, I am sure, I should have observed them, and the livery too; if the servant had not been in mourning, one should have known him by the livery.”
“Putting all these very extraordinary circumstances together,”
said Captain Wentworth, “we must consider it to be the arrangement
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of Providence, that you should not be introduced to your cousin.”
When she could command Mary’s attention, Anne quietly tried to convince her that their father and Mr Elliot had not, for many years, been on such terms as to make the power of attempting an introduction at all desirable.
At the same time, however, it was a secret gratification to herself to have seen her cousin, and to know that the future owner of Kellynch was undoubtedly a gentleman, and had an air of good sense.
She would not, upon any account, mention her having met with him the second time; luckily Mary did not much attend to their having passed close by him in their earlier walk, but she would have felt quite ill-used by Anne’s having actually run against him in the passage, and received his very polite excuses, while she had never been near him at all; no, that cousinly little interview must remain a perfect secret.