Persuasion Page #5

I cannot tell you how relieved

I am to see her recovering so.

Yes and she will make an excellent wife, Frederick.

I congratulate you.

I beg your pardon?

Come, sir, you're mistaken

if you think you've kept your intentions

towards Louisa Musgrove a secret.

You mean to say you consider an understanding

exists between myself and Miss Musgrove?

-Of course. Do you deny it?

-I do. That is, what you say astonishes me.

Do you mean to tell me

you don't care for her at all?

No, not in that way, no. Rest assured.

Well, then I fear you'll gravely disappoint

both her and her family.

They talk of little else.

Dear God, Harry,

have I been so unguarded, so thoughtless?

It would appear that you have.

Well, if what you say is true then I must,

in all honour, regard myself as bound to her.

Indeed, Frederick.

I am afraid you seem to have entangled yourself.

This is dreadful. What can I do?

Perhaps you might take your leave of Lyme

on some pretext,

and await Louisa's recovery elsewhere.

It is perhaps possible a prolonged absence

may weaken the bonds between you.

I have been meaning to visit

my brother in Shropshire.

Capital.

-Captain Wentworth and Louisa Musgrove?

-It's quite true. I assure you.

Any day now I expect to hear news

of the engagement.

And you, child, are you reconciled to it?

Oh, yes, indeed.

-I wish them every happiness.

-Mmm. Of course.

Oh, look, there's our Mr Elliot with the Wallaces.

I must admit he does have

a very pleasant manner.

Indeed he does. And yet...

And yet?

I cannot help feeling that there must be

something more than immediately appears

in this sudden interest in our family,

after so many years.

You refer to Elizabeth, I take it.

She is very handsome.

Well, he has nothing to gain from a reconciliation.

His late wife, however unsuitable a match,

was exceedingly wealthy, and in any case

nothing can prevent him from inheriting Kellynch

and the baronetcy along with it.

Nothing except my father marrying again

and providing himself at last with a male heir.

Ah. No, indeed.

And Mrs Clay is young and altogether well-looking.

I wonder at Elizabeth, to place such a woman

under your father's nose so.

We must be vigilant.

-Ah, Lady Russell.

-Ah, Lady Cavendish.

My dearest cousin,

once again providence seems eager

to throw us together.

Good morning, Mr Elliot.

I confess, I called nearly an hour ago

at Camden Place

and was most distressed to find you absent.

My father was quite taken up with some

sensational news in this morning's paper.

You refer, of course, to your cousins,

the Dowager Viscountess Dalrymple and

her daughter the Honourable Miss Carteret,

who arrive in Bath today.

You are very well informed, Mr Elliot.

Your father may have mentioned

something on the subject.

I do not doubt that he did.

You do not seem anxious

to make their acquaintance again.

I agree.

The Dalrymples are nothing in themselves, but

family connections are always worth preserving.

And they are regarded everywhere

as good company.

My idea of good company, Mr Elliot,

is the company of clever, well-informed people

who have a great deal of conversation.

You are mistaken. That is not good company.

That is the best.

No, good company requires only birth,

manners and education

and, with regard to education,

I'm afraid it is not very particular.

Oh, my cousin Anne shakes her head.

She is not satisfied.

In one point, however, I'm sure we must feel alike.

We welcome any addition to your father's society

which diverts his thoughts from those who,

well, are beneath him.

You refer to Mrs Clay?

It is possible that I do.

My concern is that my father

may be rendered unhappy by the connection.

But perhaps I'm too fastidious.

My dear Anne,

you have a better right to be fastidious

than any woman I've ever met.

Oh, good heavens.

Mr Elliot not with you?

There is a letter come for you from Uppercross.

If you are quick you may just have time

to read it before he calls again.

CHARLES:
My dear Anne, I rejoice to tell you

that Louisa improves daily

and will soon be quite her old self.

I am also told we shall soon hear

wedding bells at Uppercross,

although I'm sworn to secrecy

on the subject and may say no more.

But Mama says the local dressmakers

will not answer for such an occasion.

So, expect to see us at Bath next week

for a fitting.

Until then, I remain your affectionate

brother-in-law, Charles Musgrove.

Anne.

Anne. Anne.

Come, come, Anne, we must not be late.

You cannot have forgotten

we have an invitation from Lady Dalrymple.

I regret I am already engaged

to spend the evening with an old school friend.

Not that sickly old widow in Westgate Buildings?

-Mrs Smith, yes.

-Smith?

-Westgate Buildings?

-Excuse me.

And who, pray, is Mrs Smith?

One of the 5,000 Smiths

that are everywhere to be met with?

Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliot,

you have the most extraordinary taste.

To place such a person

ahead of your own family connections

among the nobility of England and Ireland.

Mrs Smith.

Perhaps she's not the only poor widow in Bath

with little to live on and no surname of dignity.

Good evening.

-Anne.

-Harriet.

-How are you?

-I'm well, thank you. Much better.

This is my nurse Mrs Rooke.

-How do you do, Miss Elliot?

-Mrs Rooke.

I am truly sorry

I've been unable to visit before this.

My time has not been my own.

Oh, but we are deeply honoured to have a cousin

of Lady Dalrymple pay us a visit here this evening

instead of calling upon her relations

with the rest of her family.

You will soon learn

that absolutely nothing happens in Bath

without Nurse Rooke hearing of it.

Come, dearest Anne,

tell me everything that has happened

to you in the past 1 2 years.

Harry.

Harry.

Harry. Harry.

Frederick.

I called at the inn but Louisa's gone back home

to Uppercross, I find.

A week ago, at least. Benwick took her.

She's quite recovered.

How is your brother?

He thinks I'm as big a fool as I do.

You have no idea, Harry, how I...

how I curse the folly of my own pride.

Had I only the good sense to seize my happiness

when I had the chance again

and none of this would have happened.

I'm not sure I follow.

I imagine myself indifferent to her

but I was only angry and resentful.

Too late.

Too late I began to understand myself and her.

Never, never have I met her equal in good sense

or sweetness of character.

She's perfection itself.

I've never loved any but her.

-We are talking now of Anne Elliot?

-Of course, who else?

Then I take it

you have not received Benwick's letter.

I shall have to go to Uppercross now.

It cannot, in all decency, be avoided.

I mention this letter

only because it contains the news

that he has proposed to Louisa Musgrove.

She has accepted him.

They are to be married directly.

Married?

-Louisa and Benwick?

-Directly.

Then... Then I'm free.

As it happens, I'm going to Bath tomorrow.

Perhaps now you'd care to join me.

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