long enough in Bath," said he, "to enjoy the evening
parties of the place."

"Oh! no. The usual character of them has nothing for me. I am no
card-player."

"You were not formerly, I know. You did not use to like cards; but
time makes many changes."

"I am not yet so much changed," cried Anne, and stopped, fearing she
hardly knew what misconstruction. After waiting a few moments he said,
and as if it were the result of immediate feeling, "It is a period,
indeed! Eight years and a half is a period."

Whether he would have proceeded farther was left to Anne's imagination
to ponder over in a calmer hour; for while still hearing the sounds he
had uttered, she was startled to other subjects by Henrietta, eager to
make use of the present leisure for getting out, and calling on her
companions to lose no time, lest somebody else should come in.

They were obliged to move. Anne talked of being perfectly ready, and
tried to look it; but she felt that could Henrietta have known the
regret and reluctance of her heart in quitting that chair, in preparing
to quit the room, she would have found, in all her own sensations for
her cousin, in the very security of his affection, wherewith to pity
her.

Their preparations, however, were stopped short. Alarming sounds were
heard; other visitors approached, and the door was thrown open for Sir
Walter and Miss Elliot, whose entrance seemed to give a general chill.
Anne felt an instant oppression, and wherever she looked saw symptoms
of the same. The comfort, the freedom, the gaiety of the room was
over, hushed into cold composure, determined silence, or insipid talk,
to meet the heartless elegance of her father and sister. How
mortifying to feel that it was so!

Her jealous eye was satisfied in one particular. Captain Wentworth was
acknowledged again by each, by Elizabeth more graciously than before.
She even addressed him once, and looked at him more than once.
Elizabeth was, in fact, revolving a great measure. The sequel
explained it. After the waste of a few minutes in saying the proper
nothings, she began to give the invitation which was to comprise all
the remaining dues of the Musgroves. "To-morrow evening, to meet a few
friends: no formal party." It was all said very gracefully, and the
cards with which she had provided herself, the "Miss Elliot at home,"
were laid on the table, with a courteous, comprehensive smile to all,
and one smile and one card more decide