Chapter: Sir Walter Elliot, of Kellynch Hall, in Somersetshire, was a man who,
for his own amusement, never took up any book but the Baronetage; there
he found occupation for an idle hour, and consolation in a distressed
one; there his faculties were roused into admiration and respect, by
contemplating the limited remnant of the earliest patents; there any
unwelcome sensations, arising from domestic affairs changed naturally
into pity and contempt as he turned over the almost endless creations
of the last century; and there, if every other leaf were powerless, he
could read his own history with an interest which never failed.  This
was the page at which the favourite volume always opened:

           "ELLIOT OF KELLYNCH HALL.

"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, November 5,
1789; Mary, born November 20, 1791."

Precisely such had the paragraph originally stood from the printer's
hands; but Sir Walter had improved it by adding, for the information of
himself and his family, these words, after the date of Mary's birth--
"Married, December 16, 1810, Charles, son and heir of Charles Musgrove,
Esq. of Uppercross, in the county of Somerset," and by inserting most
accurately the day of the month on which he had lost his wife.

Then followed the history and rise of the ancient and respectable
family, in the usual terms; how it had been first settled in Cheshire;
how mentioned in Dugdale, serving the office of high sheriff,
representing a borough in three successive parliaments, exertions of
loyalty, and dignity of baronet, in the first year of Charles II, with
all the Marys and Elizabeths they had married; forming altogether two
handsome duodecimo pages, and concluding with the arms and
motto:--"Principal seat, Kellynch Hall, in the county of Somerset," and
Sir Walter's handwriting again in this finale:--

"Heir presumptive, William Walter Elliot, Esq., great grandson of the
second Sir Walter."

Vanity was the beginning and the end of Sir Walter Elliot's character;
vanity of person and of situation.  He had been remarkably handsome in
his youth; and, at fifty-four, was still a very fine man.  Few women
could think more of their personal appearance than he did, nor could
the valet of any new made lord be more delighted with the place he held
in society.  He considered the blessing of beauty as inferior only to
the blessing of a baronetcy; and the Sir Walter Elliot, who united
these gifts, was the constant object of his warmest respect and
devotion.

His good looks and his rank had one fair claim on his attachment; since
to them he must have owed a wife of very superior character to any
thing deserved by his own.  Lady Elliot had been an excellent woman,
sensible and amiable; whose judgement and conduct, if they might be
pardoned the youthful infatuation which made her Lady Elliot, had never
required indulgence afterwards.--She had humoured, or softened, or
concealed his failings, and promoted his real respectability for
seventeen years; and though not the very happiest being in the world
herself, had found enough in her duties, her friends, and her children,
to attach her to life, and make it no matter of indifference to her
when she was called on to quit them.--Three girls, the two eldest
sixteen and fourteen, was an awful legacy for a mother to bequeath, an
awful charge rather, to confide to the authority and guidance of a
conceited, silly father.  She had, however, one very intimate friend, a
sensible, deserving woman, who had been brought, by strong attachment
to herself, to settle close by her, in the village of Kellynch; and on
her kindness and advice, Lady Elliot mainly relied for the best help
and maintenance of the good principles and instruction which she had
been anxiously giving her daughters.

This friend, and Sir Walter, did not marry, whatever might have been
anticipated on that head by their acquaintance.  Thirteen years had
passed away since Lady Elliot's death, and they were still near
neighbours and intimate friends, and one remained a widower, the other
a widow.

That Lady Russell, of steady age and character, and extremely well
provided for, should have no thought of a second marriage, needs no
apology to the public, which is rather apt to be unreasonably
discontented when a woman does marry again, than when she does not; but
Sir Walter's continuing in singleness requires explanation.  Be it
known then, that Sir Walter, like a good father, (having met with one
or two private disappointments in very unreasonable applications),
prided himself on remaining single for his dear daughters' sake.  For
one daughter, his eldest, he would really have given up any thing,
which he had not been very much tempted to do.  Elizabeth had
succeeded, at sixteen, to all that was possible, of her mother's rights
and consequence; and being very handsome, and very like himself, her
influence had always been great, and they had gone on together most
happily.  His two other children were of very inferior value.  Mary had
acquired a little artificial importance, by becoming Mrs Charles
Musgrove; but Anne, with an elegance of mind and sweetness of
character, which must have placed her high with any people of real
understanding, was nobody with either father or sister; her word had no
weight, her convenience was always to give way--she was only Anne.

To Lady Russell, indeed, she was a most dear and highly valued
god-daughter, favourite, and friend.  Lady Russell loved them all; but
it was only in Anne that she could fancy the mother to revive again.

A few years before, Anne Elliot had been a very pretty girl, but her
bloom had vanished early; and as even in its height, her father had
found little to admire in her, (so totally different were her delicate
features and mild dark eyes from his own), there could be nothing in
them, now that she was faded and thin, to excite his esteem. He had
never indulged much hope, he had now none, of ever reading her name in
any other page of his favourite work.  All equality of alliance must
rest with Elizabeth, for Mary had merely connected herself with an old
country family of respectability and large fortune, and had therefore
given all the honour and received none: Elizabeth would, one day or
other, marry suitably.

It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she
was ten years before; and, generally speaking, if there has been
neither ill health nor anxiety, it is a time of life at which scarcely
any charm is lost.  It was so with Elizabeth, still the same handsome
Miss Elliot that she had begun to be thirteen years ago, and Sir Walter
might be excused, therefore, in forgetting her age, or, at least, be
deemed only half a fool, for thinking himself and Elizabeth as blooming
as ever, amidst the wreck of the good looks of everybody else; for he
could plainly see how old all the rest of his family and acquaintance
were growing.  Anne haggard, Mary coarse, every face in the
neighbourhood worsting, and the rapid increase of the crow's foot about
Lady Russell's temples had long been a distress to him.

Elizabeth did not quite equal her father in personal contentment.
Thirteen years had seen her mistress of Kellynch Hall, presiding and
directing with a self-possession and decision which could never have
given the idea of her being younger than she was.  For thirteen years
had she been doing the honours, and laying down the domestic law at
home, and leading the way to the chaise and four, and walking
immediately after Lady Russell out of all the drawing-rooms and
dining-rooms in the country.  Thirteen winters' revolving frosts had
seen her opening every ball of credit which a scanty neighbourhood
afforded, and thirteen springs shewn their blossoms, as she travelled
up to London with her father, for a few weeks' annual enjoyment of the
great world.  She had the remembrance of all this, she had the
consciousness of being nine-and-twenty to give her some regrets and
some apprehensions; she was fully satisfied of being still quite as
handsome as ever, but she felt her approach to the years of danger, and
would have rejoiced to be certain of being properly solicited by
baronet-blood within the next twelvemonth or two.  Then might she again
take up the book of books with as much enjoyment as in her early youth,
but now she liked it not.  Always to be presented with the date of her
own birth and see no marriage follow but that of a youngest sister,
made the book an evil; and more than once, when her father had left it
open on the table near her, had she closed it, with averted eyes, and
pushed it away.

She had had a disappointment, moreover, which that book, and especially
the history of her own family, must ever present the remembrance of.
The heir presumptive, the very William Walter Elliot, Esq., whose
rights had been so generously supported by her father, had disappointed
her.

She had, while a very young girl, as soon as she had known him to be,
in the event of her having no brother, the future baronet, meant to
marry him, and her father had always meant that she should.  He had not
been known to them as a boy; but soon after Lady Elliot's death, Sir
Walter had sought the acquaintance, and though his overtures had not
been met with any warmth, he had persevered in seeking it, making
allowance for the modest drawing-back of youth; and, in one of their
spring excursions to London, when Elizabeth was in her first bloom, Mr
Elliot had been forced into the introduction.

He was at that time a very young man, just engaged in the study of the
law; and Elizabeth found him extremely agreeable, and every plan in his
favour was confirmed.  He was invited to Kellynch Hall; he was talked
of and expected all the rest of the year; but he never came.  The
following spring he was seen again in town, found equally agreeable,
again encouraged, invited, and expected, and again he did not come; and
the next tidings were that he was married.  Instead of pushing his
fortune in the line marked out for the heir of the house of Elliot, he
had purchased independence by uniting himself to a rich woman of
inferior birth.

Sir Walter had resented it.  As the head of the house, he felt that he
ought to have been consulted, especially after taking the young man so
publicly by the hand; "For they must have been seen together," he
observed, "once at Tattersall's, and twice in the lobby of the House of
Commons."  His disapprobation was expressed, but apparently very little
regarded.  Mr Elliot had attempted no apology, and shewn himself as
unsolicitous of being longer noticed by the family, as Sir Walter
considered him unworthy of it:  all acquaintance between them had
ceased.

This very awkward history of Mr Elliot was still, after an interval of
several years, felt with anger by Elizabeth, who had liked the man for
himself, and still more for being her father's heir, and whose strong
family pride could see only in him a proper match for Sir Walter
Elliot's eldest daughter.  There was not a baronet from A to Z whom her
feelings could have so willingly acknowledged as an equal.  Yet so
miserably had he conducted himself, that though she was at this present
time (the summer of 1814) wearing black ribbons for his wife, she could
not admit him to be worth thinking of again.  The disgrace of his first
marriage might, perhaps, as there was no reason to suppose it
perpetuated by offspring, have been got over, had he not done worse;
but he had, as by the accustomary intervention of kind friends, they
had been informed, spoken most disrespectfully of them all, most
slightingly and contemptuously of the very blood he belonged to, and
the honours which were hereafter to be his own.  This could not be
pardoned.

Such were Elizabeth Elliot's sentiments and sensations; such the cares
to alloy, the agitations to vary, the sameness and the elegance, the
prosperity and the nothingness of her scene of life; such the feelings
to give interest to a long, uneventful residence in one country circle,
to fill the vacancies which there were no habits of utility abroad, no
talents or accomplishments for home, to occupy.

But now, another occupation and solicitude of mind was beginning to be
added to these.  Her father was growing distressed for money.  She
knew, that when he now took up the Baronetage, it was to drive the
heavy bills of his tradespeople, and the unwelcome hints of Mr
Shepherd, his agent, from his thoughts.  The Kellynch property was
good, but not equal to Sir Walter's apprehension of the state required
in its possessor.  While Lady Elliot lived, there had been method,
moderation, and economy, which had just kept him within his income; but
with her had died all such right-mindedness, and from that period he
had been constantly exceeding it.  It had not been possible for him to
spend less; he had done nothing but what Sir Walter Elliot was
imperiously called on to do; but blameless as he was, he was not only
growing dreadfully in debt, but was hearing of it so often, that it
became vain to attempt concealing it longer, even partially, from his
daughter.  He had given her some hints of it the last spring in town;
he had gone so far even as to say, "Can we retrench?  Does it occur to
you that there is any one article in which we can retrench?" and
Elizabeth, to do her justice, had, in the first ardour of female alarm,
set seriously to think what could be done, and had finally proposed
these two branches of economy, to cut off some unnecessary charities,
and to refrain from new furnishing the drawing-room; to which
expedients she afterwards added the happy thought of their taking no
present down to Anne, as had been the usual yearly custom.  But these
measures, however good in themselves, were insufficient for the real
extent of the evil, the whole of which Sir Walter found himself obliged
to confess to her soon afterwards.  Elizabeth had nothing to propose of
deeper efficacy.  She felt herself ill-used and unfortunate, as did her
father; and they were neither of them able to devise any means of
lessening their expenses without compromising their dignity, or
relinquishing their comforts in a way not to be borne.

There was only a small part of his estate that Sir Walter could dispose
of; but had every acre been alienable, it would have made no
difference.  He had condescended to mortgage as far as he had the
power, but he would never condescend to sell.  No; he would never
disgrace his name so far.  The Kellynch estate should be transmitted
whole and entire, as he had received it.

Their two confidential friends, Mr Shepherd, who lived in the
neighbouring market town, and Lady Russell, were called to advise them;
and both father and daughter seemed to expect that something should be
struck out by one or the other to remove their embarrassments and
reduce their expenditure, without involving the loss of any indulgence
of taste or pride.




Mr Shepherd, a civil, cautious lawyer, who, whatever might be his hold
or his views on Sir Walter, would rather have the disagreeable prompted
by anybody else, excused himself from offering the slightest hint, and
only begged leave to recommend an implicit reference to the excellent
judgement of Lady Russell, from whose known good sense he fully
expected to have just such resolute measures advised as he meant to see
finally adopted.

Lady Russell was most anxiously zealous on the subject, and gave it
much serious consideration.  She was a woman rather of sound than of
quick abilities, whose difficulties in coming to any decision in this
instance were great, from the opposition of two leading principles.
She was of strict integrity herself, with a delicate sense of honour;
but she was as desirous of saving Sir Walter's feelings, as solicitous
for the credit of the family, as aristocratic in her ideas of what was
due to them, as anybody of sense and honesty could well be.  She was a
benevolent, charitable, good woman, and capable of strong attachments,
most correct in her conduct, strict in her notions of decorum, and with
manners that were held a standard of good-breeding.  She had a
cultivated mind, and was, generally speaking, rational and consistent;
but she had prejudices on the side of ancestry; she had a value for
rank and consequence, which blinded her a little to the faults of those
who possessed them.  Herself the widow of only a knight, she gave the
dignity of a baronet all its due; and Sir Walter, independent of his
claims as an old acquaintance, an attentive neighbour, an obliging
landlord, the husband of her very dear friend, the father of Anne and
her sisters, was, as being Sir Walter, in her apprehension, entitled to
a great deal of compassion and consideration under his present
difficulties.

They must retrench; that did not admit of a doubt.  But she was very
anxious to have it done with the least possible pain to him and
Elizabeth. She drew up plans of economy, she made exact calculations,
and she did what nobody else thought of doing:  she consulted Anne, who
never seemed considered by the others as having any interest in the
question. She consulted, and in a degree was influenced by her in
marking out the scheme of retrenchment which was at last submitted to
Sir Walter. Every emendation of Anne's had been on the side of honesty
against importance.  She wanted more vigorous measures, a more complete
reformation, a quicker release from debt, a much higher tone of
indifference for everything but justice and equity.

"If we can persuade your father to all this," said Lady Russell,
looking over her paper, "much may be done.  If he will adopt these
regulations, in seven years he will be clear; and I hope we may be able
to convince him and Elizabeth, that Kellynch Hall has a respectability
in itself which cannot be affected by these reductions; and that the
true dignity of Sir Walter Elliot will be very far from lessened in the
eyes of sensible people, by acting like a man of principle.  What will
he be doing, in fact, but what very many of our first families have
done, or ought to do?  There will be nothing singular in his case; and
it is singularity which often makes the worst part of our suffering, as
it always does of our conduct.  I have great hope of prevailing.  We
must be serious and decided; for after all, the person who has
contracted debts must pay them; and though a great deal is due to the
feelings of the gentleman, and the head of a house, like your father,
there is still more due to the character of an honest man."

This was the principle on which Anne wanted her father to be
proceeding, his friends to be urging him.  She considered it as an act
of indispensable duty to clear away the claims of creditors with all
the expedition which the most comprehensive retrenchments could secure,
and saw no dignity in anything short of it.  She wanted it to be
prescribed, and felt as a duty.  She rated Lady Russell's influence
highly; and as to the severe degree of self-denial which her own
conscience prompted, she believed there might be little more difficulty
in persuading them to a complete, than to half a reformation.  Her
knowledge of her father and Elizabeth inclined her to think that the
sacrifice of one pair of horses would be hardly less painful than of
both, and so on, through the whole list of Lady Russell's too gentle
reductions.

How Anne's more rigid requisitions might have been taken is of little
consequence.  Lady Russell's had no success at all: could not be put up
with, were not to be borne. "What! every comfort of life knocked off!
Journeys, London, servants, horses, table--contractions and
restrictions every where!  To live no longer with the decencies even of
a private gentleman!  No, he would sooner quit Kellynch Hall at once,
than remain in it on such disgraceful terms."

"Quit Kellynch Hall."  The hint was immediately taken up by Mr
Shepherd, whose interest was involved in the reality of Sir Walter's
retrenching, and who was perfectly persuaded that nothing would be done
without a change of abode.  "Since the idea had been started in the
very quarter which ought to dictate, he had no scruple," he said, "in
confessing his judgement to be entirely on that side.  It did not
appear to him that Sir Walter could materially alter his style of
living in a house which had such a character of hospitality and ancient
dignity to support.  In any other place Sir Walter might judge for
himself; and would be looked up to, as regulating the modes of life in
whatever way he might choose to model his household."

Sir Walter would quit Kellynch Hall; and after a very few days more of
doubt and indecision, the great question of whither he should go was
settled, and the first outline of this important change made out.

There had been three alternatives, London, Bath, or another house in
the country.  All Anne's wishes had been for the latter.  A small house
in their own neighbourhood, where they might still have Lady Russell's
society, still be near Mary, and still have the pleasure of sometimes
seeing the lawns and groves of Kellynch, was the object of her
ambition.  But the usual fate of Anne attended her, in having something
very opposite from her inclination fixed on.  She disliked Bath, and
did not think it agreed with her; and Bath was to be her home.

Sir Walter had at first thought more of London; but Mr Shepherd felt
that he could not be trusted in London, and had been skilful enough to
dissuade him from it, and make Bath preferred.  It was a much safer
place for a gentleman in his predicament:  he might there be important
at comparatively little expense.  Two material advantages of Bath over
London had of course been given all their weight:  its more convenient
distance from Kellynch, only fifty miles, and Lady Russell's spending
some part of every winter there; and to the very great satisfaction of
Lady Russell, whose first views on the projected change had been for
Bath, Sir Walter and Elizabeth were induced to believe that they should
lose neither consequence nor enjoyment by settling there.

Lady Russell felt obliged to oppose her dear Anne's known wishes.  It
would be too much to expect Sir Walter to descend into a small house in
his own neighbourhood.  Anne herself would have found the
mortifications of it more than she foresaw, and to Sir Walter's
feelings they must have been dreadful.  And with regard to Anne's
dislike of Bath, she considered it as a prejudice and mistake arising,
first, from the circumstance of her having been three years at school
there, after her mother's death; and secondly, from her happening to be
not in perfectly good spirits the only winter which she had afterwards
spent there with herself.

Lady Russell was fond of Bath, in short, and disposed to think it must
suit them all; and as to her young friend's health, by passing all the
warm months with her at Kellynch Lodge, every danger would be avoided;
and it was in fact, a change which must do both health and spirits
good.  Anne had been too little from home, too little seen. Her spirits
were not high.  A larger society would improve them.  She wanted her to
be more known.

The undesirableness of any other house in the same neighbourhood for
Sir Walter was certainly much strengthened by one part, and a very
material part of the scheme, which had been happily engrafted on the
beginning.  He was not only to quit his home, but to see it in the
hands of others; a trial of fortitude, which stronger heads than Sir
Walter's have found too much.  Kellynch Hall was to be let.  This,
however, was a profound secret, not to be breathed beyond their own
circle.

Sir Walter could not have borne the degradation of being known to
design letting his house.  Mr Shepherd had once mentioned the word
"advertise," but never dared approach it again.  Sir Walter spurned the
idea of its being offered in any manner; forbad the slightest hint
being dropped of his having such an intention; and it was only on the
supposition of his being spontaneously solicited by some most
unexceptionable applicant, on his own terms, and as a great favour,
that he would let it at all.

How quick come the reasons for approving what we like!  Lady Russell
had another excellent one at hand, for being extremely glad that Sir
Walter and his family were to remove from the country.  Elizabeth had
been lately forming an intimacy, which she wished to see interrupted.
It was with the daughter of Mr Shepherd, who had returned, after an
unprosperous marriage, to her father's house, with the additional
burden of two children.  She was a clever young woman, who understood
the art of pleasing--the art of pleasing, at least, at Kellynch Hall;
and who had made herself so acceptable to Miss Elliot, as to have been
already staying there more than once, in spite of all that Lady
Russell, who thought it a friendship quite out of place, could hint of
caution and reserve.

Lady Russell, indeed, had scarcely any influence with Elizabeth, and
seemed to love her, rather because she would love her, than because
Elizabeth deserved it.  She had never received from her more than
outward attention, nothing beyond the observances of complaisance; had
never succeeded in any point which she wanted to carry, against
previous inclination.  She had been repeatedly very earnest in trying
to get Anne included in the visit to London, sensibly open to all the
injustice and all the discredit of the selfish arrangements which shut
her out, and on many lesser occasions had endeavoured to give Elizabeth
the advantage of her own better judgement and experience; but always in
vain:  Elizabeth would go her own way; and never had she pursued it in
more decided opposition to Lady Russell than in this selection of Mrs
Clay; turning from the society of so deserving a sister, to bestow her
affection and confidence on one who ought to have been nothing to her
but the object of distant civility.

From situation, Mrs Clay was, in Lady Russell's estimate, a very
unequal, and in her character she believed a very dangerous companion;
and a removal that would leave Mrs Clay behind, and bring a choice of
more suitable intimates within Miss Elliot's reach, was therefore an
object of first-rate importance.




"I must take leave to observe, Sir Walter," said Mr Shepherd one
morning at Kellynch Hall, as he laid down the newspaper, "that the
present juncture is much in our favour.  This peace will be turning all
our rich naval officers ashore.  They will be all wanting a home.
Could not be a better time, Sir Walter, for having a choice of tenants,
very responsible tenants.  Many a noble fortune has been made during
the war.  If a rich admiral were to come in our way, Sir Walter--"

"He would be a very lucky man, Shepherd," replied Sir Walter; "that's
all I have to remark.  A prize indeed would Kellynch Hall be to him;
rather the greatest prize of all, let him have taken ever so many
before; hey, Shepherd?"

Mr Shepherd laughed, as he knew he must, at this wit, and then added--

"I presume to observe, Sir Walter, that, in the way of business,
gentlemen of the navy are well to deal with.  I have had a little
knowledge of their methods of doing business; and I am free to confess
that they have very liberal notions, and are as likely to make
desirable tenants as any set of people one should meet with.
Therefore, Sir Walter, what I would take leave to suggest is, that if
in consequence of any rumours getting abroad of your intention; which
must be contemplated as a possible thing, because we know how difficult
it is to keep the actions and designs of one part of the world from the
notice and curiosity of the other; consequence has its tax; I, John
Shepherd, might conceal any family-matters that I chose, for nobody
would think it worth their while to observe me; but Sir Walter Elliot
has eyes upon him which it may be very difficult to elude; and
therefore, thus much I venture upon, that it will not greatly surprise
me if, with all our caution, some rumour of the truth should get
abroad; in the supposition of which, as I was going to observe, since
applications will unquestionably follow, I should think any from our
wealthy naval commanders particularly worth attending to; and beg leave
to add, that two hours will bring me over at any time, to save you the
trouble of replying."

Sir Walter only nodded.  But soon afterwards, rising and pacing the
room, he observed sarcastically--

"There are few among the gentlemen of the navy, I imagine, who would
not be surprised to find themselves in a house of this description."

"They would look around them, no doubt, and bless their good fortune,"
said Mrs Clay, for Mrs Clay was present:  her father had driven her
over, nothing being of so much use to Mrs Clay's health as a drive to
Kellynch: "but I quite agree with my father in thinking a sailor might
be a very desirable tenant.  I have known a good deal of the
profession; and besides their liberality, they are so neat and careful
in all their ways!  These valuable pictures of yours, Sir Walter, if
you chose to leave them, would be perfectly safe.  Everything in and
about the house would be taken such excellent care of!  The gardens and
shrubberies would be kept in almost as high order as they are now.  You
need not be afraid, Miss Elliot, of your own sweet flower gardens being
neglected."

"As to all that," rejoined Sir Walter coolly, "supposing I were induced
to let my house, I have by no means made up my mind as to the
privileges to be annexed to it.  I am not particularly disposed to
favour a tenant.  The park would be open to him of course, and few navy
officers, or men of any other description, can have had such a range;
but what restrictions I might impose on the use of the
pleasure-grounds, is another thing.  I am not fond of the idea of my
shrubberies being always approachable; and I should recommend Miss
Elliot to be on her guard with respect to her flower garden.  I am very
little disposed to grant a tenant of Kellynch Hall any extraordinary
favour, I assure you, be he sailor or soldier."

After a short pause, Mr Shepherd presumed to say--

"In all these cases, there are established usages which make everything
plain and easy between landlord and tenant.  Your interest, Sir Walter,
is in pretty safe hands.  Depend upon me for taking care that no tenant
has more than his just rights.  I venture to hint, that Sir Walter
Elliot cannot be half so jealous for his own, as John Shepherd will be
for him."

Here Anne spoke--

"The navy, I think, who have done so much for us, have at least an
equal claim with any other set of men, for all the comforts and all the
privileges which any home can give.  Sailors work hard enough for their
comforts, we must all allow."

"Very true, very true.  What Miss Anne says, is very true," was Mr
Shepherd's rejoinder, and "Oh! certainly," was his daughter's; but Sir
Walter's remark was, soon afterwards--

"The profession has its utility, but I should be sorry to see any
friend of mine belonging to it."

"Indeed!" was the reply, and with a look of surprise.

"Yes; it is in two points offensive to me; I have two strong grounds of
objection to it.  First, as being the means of bringing persons of
obscure birth into undue distinction, and raising men to honours which
their fathers and grandfathers never dreamt of; and secondly, as it
cuts up a man's youth and vigour most horribly; a sailor grows old
sooner than any other man.  I have observed it all my life.  A man is
in greater danger in the navy of being insulted by the rise of one
whose father, his father might have disdained to speak to, and of
becoming prematurely an object of disgust himself, than in any other
line.  One day last spring, in town, I was in company with two men,
striking instances of what I am talking of; Lord St Ives, whose father
we all know to have been a country curate, without bread to eat; I was
to give place to Lord St Ives, and a certain Admiral Baldwin, the most
deplorable-looking personage you can imagine; his face the colour of
mahogany, rough and rugged to the last degree; all lines and wrinkles,
nine grey hairs of a side, and nothing but a dab of powder at top.  'In
the name of heaven, who is that old fellow?' said I to a friend of mine
who was standing near, (Sir Basil Morley).  'Old fellow!' cried Sir
Basil, 'it is Admiral Baldwin.  What do you take his age to be?'
'Sixty,' said I, 'or perhaps sixty-two.' 'Forty,' replied Sir Basil,
'forty, and no more.'  Picture to yourselves my amazement; I shall not
easily forget Admiral Baldwin.  I never saw quite so wretched an
example of what a sea-faring life can do; but to a degree, I know it is
the same with them all:  they are all knocked about, and exposed to
every climate, and every weather, till they are not fit to be seen.  It
is a pity they are not knocked on the head at once, before they reach
Admiral Baldwin's age."

"Nay, Sir Walter," cried Mrs Clay, "this is being severe indeed.  Have
a little mercy on the poor men.  We are not all born to be handsome.
The sea is no beautifier, certainly; sailors do grow old betimes; I
have observed it; they soon lose the look of youth.  But then, is not
it the same with many other professions, perhaps most other?  Soldiers,
in active service, are not at all better off:  and even in the quieter
professions, there is a toil and a labour of the mind, if not of the
body, which seldom leaves a man's looks to the natural effect of time.
The lawyer plods, quite care-worn; the physician is up at all hours,
and travelling in all weather; and even the clergyman--" she stopt a
moment to consider what might do for the clergyman;--"and even the
clergyman, you know is obliged to go into infected rooms, and expose
his health and looks to all the injury of a poisonous atmosphere.  In
fact, as I have long been convinced, though every profession is
necessary and honourable in its turn, it is only the lot of those who
are not obliged to follow any, who can live in a regular way, in the
country, choosing their own hours, following their own pursuits, and
living on their own property, without the torment of trying for more;
it is only their lot, I say, to hold the blessings of health and a good
appearance to the utmost: I know no other set of men but what lose
something of their personableness when they cease to be quite young."

It seemed as if Mr Shepherd, in this anxiety to bespeak Sir Walter's
good will towards a naval officer as tenant, had been gifted with
foresight; for the very first application for the house was from an
Admiral Croft, with whom he shortly afterwards fell into company in
attending the quarter sessions at Taunton; and indeed, he had received
a hint of the Admiral from a London correspondent.  By the report which
he hastened over to Kellynch to make, Admiral Croft was a native of
Somersetshire, who having acquired a very handsome fortune, was wishing
to settle in his own country, and had come down to Taunton in order to
look at some advertised places in that immediate neighbourhood, which,
however, had not suited him; that accidentally hearing--(it was just as
he had foretold, Mr Shepherd observed, Sir Walter's concerns could not
be kept a secret,)--accidentally hearing of the possibility of
Kellynch Hall being to let, and understanding his (Mr Shepherd's)
connection with the owner, he had introduced himself to him in order to
make particular inquiries, and had, in the course of a pretty long
conference, expressed as strong an inclination for the place as a man
who knew it only by description could feel; and given Mr Shepherd, in
his explicit account of himself, every proof of his being a most
responsible, eligible tenant.

"And who is Admiral Croft?" was Sir Walter's cold suspicious inquiry.

Mr Shepherd answered for his being of a gentleman's family, and
mentioned a place; and Anne, after the little pause which followed,
added--

"He is a rear admiral of the white.  He was in the Trafalgar action,
and has been in the East Indies since; he was stationed there, I
believe, several years."

"Then I take it for granted," observed Sir Walter, "that his face is
about as orange as the cuffs and capes of my livery."

Mr Shepherd hastened to assure him, that Admiral Croft was a very hale,
hearty, well-looking man, a little weather-beaten, to be sure, but not
much, and quite the gentleman in all his notions and behaviour; not
likely to make the smallest difficulty about terms, only wanted a
comfortable home, and to get into it as soon as possible; knew he must
pay for his convenience; knew what rent a ready-furnished house of that
consequence might fetch; should not have been surprised if Sir Walter
had asked more; had inquired about the manor; would be glad of the
deputation, certainly, but made no great point of it; said he sometimes
took out a gun, but never killed; quite the gentleman.

Mr Shepherd was eloquent on the subject; pointing out all the
circumstances of the Admiral's family, which made him peculiarly
desirable as a tenant.  He was a married man, and without children; the
very state to be wished for.  A house was never taken good care of, Mr
Shepherd observed, without a lady: he did not know, whether furniture
might not be in danger of suffering as much where there was no lady, as
where there were many children.  A lady, without a family, was the very
best preserver of furniture in the world.  He had seen Mrs Croft, too;
she was at Taunton with the admiral, and had been present almost all
the time they were talking the matter over.

"And a very well-spoken, genteel, shrewd lady, she seemed to be,"
continued he; "asked more questions about the house, and terms, and
taxes, than the Admiral himself, and seemed more conversant with
business; and moreover, Sir Walter, I found she was not quite
unconnected in this country, any more than her husband; that is to say,
she is sister to a gentleman who did live amongst us once; she told me
so herself: sister to the gentleman who lived a few years back at
Monkford. Bless me! what was his name? At this moment I cannot
recollect his name, though I have heard it so lately. Penelope, my
dear, can you help me to the name of the gentleman who lived at
Monkford: Mrs Croft's brother?"

But Mrs Clay was talking so eagerly with Miss Elliot, that she did not
hear the appeal.

"I have no conception whom you can mean, Shepherd; I remember no
gentleman resident at Monkford since the time of old Governor Trent."

"Bless me! how very odd!  I shall forget my own name soon, I suppose.
A name that I am so very well acquainted with; knew the gentleman so
well by sight; seen him a hundred times; came to consult me once, I
remember, about a trespass of one of his neighbours; farmer's man
breaking into his orchard; wall torn down; apples stolen; caught in the
fact; and afterwards, contrary to my judgement, submitted to an
amicable compromise.  Very odd indeed!"

After waiting another moment--

"You mean Mr Wentworth, I suppose?" said Anne.

Mr Shepherd was all gratitude.

"Wentworth was the very name!  Mr Wentworth was the very man.  He had
the curacy of Monkford, you know, Sir Walter, some time back, for two
or three years.  Came there about the year ---5, I take it.  You
remember him, I am sure."

"Wentworth?  Oh! ay,--Mr Wentworth, the curate of Monkford.  You misled
me by the term gentleman.  I thought you were speaking of some man of
property:  Mr Wentworth was nobody, I remember; quite unconnected;
nothing to do with the Strafford family.  One wonders how the names of
many of our nobility become so common."

As Mr Shepherd perceived that this connexion of the Crofts did them no
service with Sir Walter, he mentioned it no more; returning, with all
his zeal, to dwell on the circumstances more indisputably in their
favour; their age, and number, and fortune; the high idea they had
formed of Kellynch Hall, and extreme solicitude for the advantage of
renting it; making it appear as if they ranked nothing beyond the
happiness of being the tenants of Sir Walter Elliot: an extraordinary
taste, certainly, could they have been supposed in the secret of Sir
Walter's estimate of the dues of a tenant.

It succeeded, however; and though Sir Walter must ever look with an
evil eye on anyone intending to inhabit that house, and think them
infinitely too well off in being permitted to rent it on the highest
terms, he was talked into allowing Mr Shepherd to proceed in the
treaty, and authorising him to wait on Admiral Croft, who still
remained at Taunton, and fix a day for the house being seen.

Sir Walter was not very wise; but still he had experience enough of the
world to feel, that a more unobjectionable tenant, in all essentials,
than Admiral Croft bid fair to be, could hardly offer.  So far went his
understanding; and his vanity supplied a little additional soothing, in
the Admiral's situation in life, which was just high enough, and not
too high.  "I have let my house to Admiral Croft," would sound
extremely well; very much better than to any mere Mr--; a Mr (save,
perhaps, some half dozen in the nation,) always needs a note of
explanation.  An admiral speaks his own consequence, and, at the same
time, can never make a baronet look small.  In all their dealings and
intercourse, Sir Walter Elliot must ever have the precedence.

Nothing could be done without a reference to Elizabeth: but her
inclination was growing so strong for a removal, that she was happy to
have it fixed and expedited by a tenant at hand; and not a word to
suspend decision was uttered by her.

Mr Shepherd was completely empowered to act; and no sooner had such an
end been reached, than Anne, who had been a most attentive listener to
the whole, left the room, to seek the comfort of cool air for her
flushed cheeks; and as she walked along a favourite grove, said, with a
gentle sigh, "A few months more, and he, perhaps, may be walking here."

 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 . 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 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. Lady Elliot, it appears, had been a "excellent woman" and wife, both more sensible and more amiable than Sir Walter . 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" . 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 . 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'" . 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 the decencies even of a private gentleman" and that he would rather leave Kellynch hall . 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 . 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" . 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 . 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 .

