which had been for many
years under a sort of sequestration for the payment of its own
incumbrances, might be recoverable by proper measures; and this
property, though not large, would be enough to make her comparatively
rich. But there was nobody to stir in it. Mr Elliot would do nothing,
and she could do nothing herself, equally disabled from personal
exertion by her state of bodily weakness, and from employing others by
her want of money. She had no natural connexions to assist her even
with their counsel, and she could not afford to purchase the assistance
of the law. This was a cruel aggravation of actually straitened means.
To feel that she ought to be in better circumstances, that a little
trouble in the right place might do it, and to fear that delay might be
even weakening her claims, was hard to bear.

It was on this point that she had hoped to engage Anne's good offices
with Mr Elliot. She had previously, in the anticipation of their
marriage, been very apprehensive of losing her friend by it; but on
being assured that he could have made no attempt of that nature, since
he did not even know her to be in Bath, it immediately occurred, that
something might be done in her favour by the influence of the woman he
loved, and she had been hastily preparing to interest Anne's feelings,
as far as the observances due to Mr Elliot's character would allow,
when Anne's refutation of the supposed engagement changed the face of
everything; and while it took from her the new-formed hope of
succeeding in the object of her first anxiety, left her at least the
comfort of telling the whole story her own way.

After listening to this full description of Mr Elliot, Anne could not
but express some surprise at Mrs Smith's having spoken of him so
favourably in the beginning of their conversation. "She had seemed to
recommend and praise him!"

"My dear," was Mrs Smith's reply, "there was nothing else to be done.
I considered your marrying him as certain, though he might not yet have
made the offer, and I could no more speak the truth of him, than if he
had been your husband. My heart bled for you, as I talked of
happiness; and yet he is sensible, he is agreeable, and with such a
woman as you, it was not absolutely hopeless. He was very unkind to
his first wife. They were wretched together. But she was too ignorant
and giddy for respect, and he had never loved her. I was willing to
hope that you must fare better."

Ann