["[Event happened on 2024-01-01 The user is reading a book]\n<User> A very few days more, and Captain Wentworth was known to be at\nKellynch, and Mr Musgrove had called on him, and come back warm in his\npraise, and he was engaged with the Crofts to dine at Uppercross, by\nthe end of another week. It had been a great disappointment to Mr\nMusgrove to find that no earlier day could be fixed, so impatient was\nhe to shew his gratitude, by seeing Captain Wentworth under his own\nroof, and welcoming him to all that was strongest and best in his\ncellars. But a week must pass; only a week, in Anne's reckoning, and\nthen, she supposed, they must meet; and soon she began to wish that she\ncould feel secure even for a week. Captain Wentworth made a very early return to Mr Musgrove's civility,\nand she was all but calling there in the same half hour. She and Mary\nwere actually setting forward for the Great House, where, as she\nafterwards learnt, they must inevitably have found him, when they were\nstopped by the eldest boy's being at that moment brought home in\nconsequence of a bad fall. The child's situation put the visit\nentirely aside; but she could not hear of her escape with indifference,\neven in the midst of the serious anxiety which they afterwards felt on\nhis account. His collar-bone was found to be dislocated, and such injury received in\nthe back, as roused the most alarming ideas. It was an afternoon of\ndistress, and Anne had every thing to do at once; the apothecary to\nsend for, the father to have pursued and informed, the mother to\nsupport and keep from hysterics, the servants to control, the youngest\nchild to banish, and the poor suffering one to attend and soothe;\nbesides sending, as soon as she recollected it, proper notice to the\nother house, which brought her an accession rather of frightened,\nenquiring companions, than of very useful assistants. Her brother's return was the first comfort; he could take best care of\nhis wife; and the second blessing was the arrival of the apothecary. Till he came and had examined the child, their apprehensions were the\nworse for being vague; they suspected great injury, but knew not where;\nbut now the collar-bone was soon replaced, and though Mr Robinson felt\nand felt, and rubbed, and looked grave, and spoke low words both to the\nfather and the aunt, still they were all to hope the best, and to be\nable to part and eat their dinner in tolerable ease of mind; and then\nit was, just before they parted, that the two young aunts were able so\nfar to digress from their nephew's state, as to give the information of\nCaptain Wentworth's visit; staying five minutes behind their father and\nmother, to endeavour to express how perfectly delighted they were with\nhim, how much handsomer, how infinitely more agreeable they thought him\nthan any individual among their male acquaintance, who had been at all\na favourite before. How glad they had been to hear papa invite him to\nstay dinner, how sorry when he said it was quite out of his power, and\nhow glad again when he had promised in reply to papa and mamma's\nfarther pressing invitations to come and dine with them on the\nmorrow--actually on the morrow; and he had promised it in so pleasant a\nmanner, as if he felt all the motive of their attention just as he\nought. And in short, he had looked and said everything with such\nexquisite grace, that they could assure them all, their heads were both\nturned by him; and off they ran, quite as full of glee as of love, and\napparently more full of Captain Wentworth than of little Charles. The same story and the same raptures were repeated, when the two girls\ncame with their father, through the gloom of the evening, to make\nenquiries; and Mr Musgrove, no longer under the first uneasiness about\nhis heir, could add his confirmation and praise, and hope there would\nbe now no occasion for putting Captain Wentworth off, and only be sorry\nto think that the cottage party, probably, would not like to leave the\nlittle boy, to give him the meeting. \"Oh no; as to leaving the little\nboy,\" both father and mother were in much too strong and recent alarm\nto bear the thought; and Anne, in the joy of the escape, could not help\nadding her warm protestations to theirs. Charles Musgrove, indeed, afterwards, shewed more of inclination; \"the\nchild was going on so well, and he wished so much to be introduced to\nCaptain Wentworth, that, perhaps, he might join them in the evening; he\nwould not dine from home, but he might walk in for half an hour.\" But\nin this he was eagerly opposed by his wife, with \"Oh! no, indeed,\nCharles, I cannot bear to have you go away. Only think if anything\nshould happen?\" The child had a good night, and was going on well the next day. It\nmust be a work of time to ascertain that no injury had been done to the\nspine; but Mr Robinson found nothing to increase alarm, and Charles\nMusgrove began, consequently, to feel no necessity for longer\nconfinement. The child was to be kept in bed and amused as quietly as\npossible; but what was there for a father to do? This was quite a\nfemale case, and it would be highly absurd in him, who could be of no\nuse at home, to shut himself up. His father very much wished him to\nmeet Captain Wentworth, and there being no sufficient reason against\nit, he ought to go; and it ended in his making a bold, public\ndeclaration, when he came in from shooting, of his meaning to dress\ndirectly, and dine at the other house. \"Nothing can be going on better than the child,\" said he; \"so I told my\nfather, just now, that I would come, and he thought me quite right. Your sister being with you, my love, I have no scruple at all. You\nwould not like to leave him yourself, but you see I can be of no use. Anne will send for me if anything is the matter.\" Husbands and wives generally understand when opposition will be vain. Mary knew, from Charles's manner of speaking, that he was quite\ndetermined on going, and that it would be of no use to teaze him. She\nsaid nothing, therefore, till he was out of the room, but as soon as\nthere was only Anne to hear--\n\n\"So you and I are to be left to shift by ourselves, with this poor sick\nchild; and not a creature coming near us all the evening! I knew how\nit would be. This is always my luck. If there is anything\ndisagreeable going on men are always sure to get out of it, and Charles\nis as bad as any of them. Very unfeeling! I must say it is very\nunfeeling of him to be running away from his poor little boy. Talks of\nhis being going on so well! How does he know that he is going on well,\nor that there may not be a sudden change half an hour hence? I did not\nthink Charles would have been so unfeeling. So here he is to go away\nand enjoy himself, and because I am the poor mother, I am not to be\nallowed to stir; and yet, I am sure, I am more unfit than anybody else\nto be about the child. My being the mother is the very reason why my\nfeelings should not be tried. I am not at all equal to it. You saw\nhow hysterical I was yesterday.\" \"But that was only the effect of the suddenness of your alarm--of the\nshock. You will not be hysterical again. I dare say we shall have\nnothing to distress us. I perfectly understand Mr Robinson's\ndirections, and have no fears; and indeed, Mary, I cannot wonder at\nyour husband. Nursing does not belong to a man; it is not his\nprovince. A sick child is always the mother's property:  her own\nfeelings generally make it so.\" \"I hope I am as fond of my child as any mother, but I do not know that\nI am of any more use in the sick-room than Charles, for I cannot be\nalways scolding and teazing the poor child when it is ill; and you saw,\nthis morning, that if I told him to keep quiet, he was sure to begin\nkicking about. I have not nerves for the sort of thing.\" \"But, could you be comfortable yourself, to be spending the whole\nevening away from the poor boy?\" \"Yes; you see his papa can, and why should not I? Jemima is so\ncareful; and she could send us word every hour how he was. I really\nthink Charles might as well have told his father we would all come. I\nam not more alarmed about little Charles now than he is. I was\ndreadfully alarmed yesterday, but the case is very different to-day.\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-01, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-04 The user is reading a book]\n<User> \"Well, if you do not think it too late to give notice for yourself,\nsuppose you were to go, as well as your husband. Leave little Charles\nto my care. Mr and Mrs Musgrove cannot think it wrong while I remain\nwith him.\" \"Are you serious?\" cried Mary, her eyes brightening. \"Dear me! that's\na very good thought, very good, indeed. To be sure, I may just as well\ngo as not, for I am of no use at home--am I? and it only harasses me. You, who have not a mother's feelings, are a great deal the properest\nperson. You can make little Charles do anything; he always minds you\nat a word. It will be a great deal better than leaving him only with\nJemima. Oh! I shall certainly go; I am sure I ought if I can, quite as\nmuch as Charles, for they want me excessively to be acquainted with\nCaptain Wentworth, and I know you do not mind being left alone. An\nexcellent thought of yours, indeed, Anne. I will go and tell Charles,\nand get ready directly. You can send for us, you know, at a moment's\nnotice, if anything is the matter; but I dare say there will be nothing\nto alarm you. I should not go, you may be sure, if I did not feel\nquite at ease about my dear child.\" The next moment she was tapping at her husband's dressing-room door,\nand as Anne followed her up stairs, she was in time for the whole\nconversation, which began with Mary's saying, in a tone of great\nexultation--\n\n\"I mean to go with you, Charles, for I am of no more use at home than\nyou are. If I were to shut myself up for ever with the child, I should\nnot be able to persuade him to do anything he did not like. Anne will\nstay; Anne undertakes to stay at home and take care of him. It is\nAnne's own proposal, and so I shall go with you, which will be a great\ndeal better, for I have not dined at the other house since Tuesday.\" \"This is very kind of Anne,\" was her husband's answer, \"and I should be\nvery glad to have you go; but it seems rather hard that she should be\nleft at home by herself, to nurse our sick child.\" Anne was now at hand to take up her own cause, and the sincerity of her\nmanner being soon sufficient to convince him, where conviction was at\nleast very agreeable, he had no farther scruples as to her being left\nto dine alone, though he still wanted her to join them in the evening,\nwhen the child might be at rest for the night, and kindly urged her to\nlet him come and fetch her, but she was quite unpersuadable; and this\nbeing the case, she had ere long the pleasure of seeing them set off\ntogether in high spirits. They were gone, she hoped, to be happy,\nhowever oddly constructed such happiness might seem; as for herself,\nshe was left with as many sensations of comfort, as were, perhaps, ever\nlikely to be hers. She knew herself to be of the first utility to the\nchild; and what was it to her if Frederick Wentworth were only half a\nmile distant, making himself agreeable to others? She would have liked to know how he felt as to a meeting. Perhaps\nindifferent, if indifference could exist under such circumstances. He\nmust be either indifferent or unwilling. Had he wished ever to see her\nagain, he need not have waited till this time; he would have done what\nshe could not but believe that in his place she should have done long\nago, when events had been early giving him the independence which alone\nhad been wanting. Her brother and sister came back delighted with their new acquaintance,\nand their visit in general. There had been music, singing, talking,\nlaughing, all that was most agreeable; charming manners in Captain\nWentworth, no shyness or reserve; they seemed all to know each other\nperfectly, and he was coming the very next morning to shoot with\nCharles. He was to come to breakfast, but not at the Cottage, though\nthat had been proposed at first; but then he had been pressed to come\nto the Great House instead, and he seemed afraid of being in Mrs\nCharles Musgrove's way, on account of the child, and therefore,\nsomehow, they hardly knew how, it ended in Charles's being to meet him\nto breakfast at his father's. Anne understood it. He wished to avoid seeing her. He had inquired\nafter her, she found, slightly, as might suit a former slight\nacquaintance, seeming to acknowledge such as she had acknowledged,\nactuated, perhaps, by the same view of escaping introduction when they\nwere to meet. The morning hours of the Cottage were always later than those of the\nother house, and on the morrow the difference was so great that Mary\nand Anne were not more than beginning breakfast when Charles came in to\nsay that they were just setting off, that he was come for his dogs,\nthat his sisters were following with Captain Wentworth; his sisters\nmeaning to visit Mary and the child, and Captain Wentworth proposing\nalso to wait on her for a few minutes if not inconvenient; and though\nCharles had answered for the child's being in no such state as could\nmake it inconvenient, Captain Wentworth would not be satisfied without\nhis running on to give notice. Mary, very much gratified by this attention, was delighted to receive\nhim, while a thousand feelings rushed on Anne, of which this was the\nmost consoling, that it would soon be over. And it was soon over. In\ntwo minutes after Charles's preparation, the others appeared; they were\nin the drawing-room. Her eye half met Captain Wentworth's, a bow, a\ncurtsey passed; she heard his voice; he talked to Mary, said all that\nwas right, said something to the Miss Musgroves, enough to mark an easy\nfooting; the room seemed full, full of persons and voices, but a few\nminutes ended it. Charles shewed himself at the window, all was ready,\ntheir visitor had bowed and was gone, the Miss Musgroves were gone too,\nsuddenly resolving to walk to the end of the village with the\nsportsmen:  the room was cleared, and Anne might finish her breakfast\nas she could. \"It is over! it is over!\" she repeated to herself again and again, in\nnervous gratitude. \"The worst is over!\" Mary talked, but she could not attend. She had seen him. They had\nmet. They had been once more in the same room. Soon, however, she began to reason with herself, and try to be feeling\nless. Eight years, almost eight years had passed, since all had been\ngiven up. How absurd to be resuming the agitation which such an\ninterval had banished into distance and indistinctness! What might not\neight years do? Events of every description, changes, alienations,\nremovals--all, all must be comprised in it, and oblivion of the past--\nhow natural, how certain too! It included nearly a third part of her\nown life. Alas! with all her reasoning, she found, that to retentive feelings\neight years may be little more than nothing. Now, how were his sentiments to be read? Was this like wishing to\navoid her? And the next moment she was hating herself for the folly\nwhich asked the question. On one other question which perhaps her utmost wisdom might not have\nprevented, she was soon spared all suspense; for, after the Miss\nMusgroves had returned and finished their visit at the Cottage she had\nthis spontaneous information from Mary:--\n\n\"Captain Wentworth is not very gallant by you, Anne, though he was so\nattentive to me. Henrietta asked him what he thought of you, when they\nwent away, and he said, 'You were so altered he should not have known\nyou again.'\" Mary had no feelings to make her respect her sister's in a common way,\nbut she was perfectly unsuspicious of being inflicting any peculiar\nwound. \"Altered beyond his knowledge.\" Anne fully submitted, in silent, deep\nmortification. Doubtless it was so, and she could take no revenge, for\nhe was not altered, or not for the worse. She had already acknowledged\nit to herself, and she could not think differently, let him think of\nher as he would. No:  the years which had destroyed her youth and\nbloom had only given him a more glowing, manly, open look, in no\nrespect lessening his personal advantages. She had seen the same\nFrederick Wentworth. \"So altered that he should not have known her again!\" These were words\nwhich could not but dwell with her. Yet she soon began to rejoice that\nshe had heard them. They were of sobering tendency; they allayed\nagitation; they composed, and consequently must make her happier. Frederick Wentworth had used such words, or something like them, but\nwithout an idea that they would be carried round to her.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-04, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-05 The user is reading a book]\n<User> He had\nthought her wretchedly altered, and in the first moment of appeal, had\nspoken as he felt. He had not forgiven Anne Elliot. She had used him\nill, deserted and disappointed him; and worse, she had shewn a\nfeebleness of character in doing so, which his own decided, confident\ntemper could not endure. She had given him up to oblige others. It\nhad been the effect of over-persuasion. It had been weakness and\ntimidity. He had been most warmly attached to her, and had never seen a woman\nsince whom he thought her equal; but, except from some natural\nsensation of curiosity, he had no desire of meeting her again. Her\npower with him was gone for ever. It was now his object to marry. He was rich, and being turned on\nshore, fully intended to settle as soon as he could be properly\ntempted; actually looking round, ready to fall in love with all the\nspeed which a clear head and a quick taste could allow. He had a heart\nfor either of the Miss Musgroves, if they could catch it; a heart, in\nshort, for any pleasing young woman who came in his way, excepting Anne\nElliot. This was his only secret exception, when he said to his\nsister, in answer to her suppositions:--\n\n\"Yes, here I am, Sophia, quite ready to make a foolish match. Anybody\nbetween fifteen and thirty may have me for asking. A little beauty,\nand a few smiles, and a few compliments to the navy, and I am a lost\nman. Should not this be enough for a sailor, who has had no society\namong women to make him nice?\" He said it, she knew, to be contradicted. His bright proud eye spoke\nthe conviction that he was nice; and Anne Elliot was not out of his\nthoughts, when he more seriously described the woman he should wish to\nmeet with. \"A strong mind, with sweetness of manner,\" made the first\nand the last of the description. \"That is the woman I want,\" said he. \"Something a little inferior I\nshall of course put up with, but it must not be much. If I am a fool,\nI shall be a fool indeed, for I have thought on the subject more than\nmost men.\" From this time Captain Wentworth and Anne Elliot were repeatedly in the\nsame circle. They were soon dining in company together at Mr\nMusgrove's, for the little boy's state could no longer supply his aunt\nwith a pretence for absenting herself; and this was but the beginning\nof other dinings and other meetings. Whether former feelings were to be renewed must be brought to the\nproof; former times must undoubtedly be brought to the recollection of\neach; they could not but be reverted to; the year of their engagement\ncould not but be named by him, in the little narratives or descriptions\nwhich conversation called forth. His profession qualified him, his\ndisposition lead him, to talk; and \"That was in the year six;\" \"That\nhappened before I went to sea in the year six,\" occurred in the course\nof the first evening they spent together: and though his voice did not\nfalter, and though she had no reason to suppose his eye wandering\ntowards her while he spoke, Anne felt the utter impossibility, from her\nknowledge of his mind, that he could be unvisited by remembrance any\nmore than herself. There must be the same immediate association of\nthought, though she was very far from conceiving it to be of equal pain. They had no conversation together, no intercourse but what the\ncommonest civility required. Once so much to each other! Now nothing! There had been a time, when of all the large party now filling the\ndrawing-room at Uppercross, they would have found it most difficult to\ncease to speak to one another. With the exception, perhaps, of Admiral\nand Mrs Croft, who seemed particularly attached and happy, (Anne could\nallow no other exceptions even among the married couples), there could\nhave been no two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so\nin unison, no countenances so beloved. Now they were as strangers;\nnay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It\nwas a perpetual estrangement. When he talked, she heard the same voice, and discerned the same mind. There was a very general ignorance of all naval matters throughout the\nparty; and he was very much questioned, and especially by the two Miss\nMusgroves, who seemed hardly to have any eyes but for him, as to the\nmanner of living on board, daily regulations, food, hours, &c., and\ntheir surprise at his accounts, at learning the degree of accommodation\nand arrangement which was practicable, drew from him some pleasant\nridicule, which reminded Anne of the early days when she too had been\nignorant, and she too had been accused of supposing sailors to be\nliving on board without anything to eat, or any cook to dress it if\nthere were, or any servant to wait, or any knife and fork to use. From thus listening and thinking, she was roused by a whisper of Mrs\nMusgrove's who, overcome by fond regrets, could not help saying--\n\n\"Ah! Miss Anne, if it had pleased Heaven to spare my poor son, I dare\nsay he would have been just such another by this time.\" Anne suppressed a smile, and listened kindly, while Mrs Musgrove\nrelieved her heart a little more; and for a few minutes, therefore,\ncould not keep pace with the conversation of the others. When she could let her attention take its natural course again, she\nfound the Miss Musgroves just fetching the Navy List (their own navy\nlist, the first that had ever been at Uppercross), and sitting down\ntogether to pore over it, with the professed view of finding out the\nships that Captain Wentworth had commanded. \"Your first was the Asp, I remember; we will look for the Asp.\" \"You will not find her there. Quite worn out and broken up. I was the\nlast man who commanded her. Hardly fit for service then. Reported fit\nfor home service for a year or two, and so I was sent off to the West\nIndies.\" The girls looked all amazement. \"The Admiralty,\" he continued, \"entertain themselves now and then, with\nsending a few hundred men to sea, in a ship not fit to be employed. But they have a great many to provide for; and among the thousands that\nmay just as well go to the bottom as not, it is impossible for them to\ndistinguish the very set who may be least missed.\" \"Phoo! phoo!\" cried the Admiral, \"what stuff these young fellows talk! Never was a better sloop than the Asp in her day. For an old built\nsloop, you would not see her equal. Lucky fellow to get her! He knows\nthere must have been twenty better men than himself applying for her at\nthe same time. Lucky fellow to get anything so soon, with no more\ninterest than his.\" \"I felt my luck, Admiral, I assure you;\" replied Captain Wentworth,\nseriously. \"I was as well satisfied with my appointment as you can\ndesire. It was a great object with me at that time to be at sea; a\nvery great object, I wanted to be doing something.\" \"To be sure you did. What should a young fellow like you do ashore for\nhalf a year together? If a man had not a wife, he soon wants to be\nafloat again.\" \"But, Captain Wentworth,\" cried Louisa, \"how vexed you must have been\nwhen you came to the Asp, to see what an old thing they had given you.\" \"I knew pretty well what she was before that day;\" said he, smiling. \"I had no more discoveries to make than you would have as to the\nfashion and strength of any old pelisse, which you had seen lent about\namong half your acquaintance ever since you could remember, and which\nat last, on some very wet day, is lent to yourself. Ah! she was a dear\nold Asp to me. She did all that I wanted. I knew she would. I knew\nthat we should either go to the bottom together, or that she would be\nthe making of me; and I never had two days of foul weather all the time\nI was at sea in her; and after taking privateers enough to be very\nentertaining, I had the good luck in my passage home the next autumn,\nto fall in with the very French frigate I wanted. I brought her into\nPlymouth; and here another instance of luck. We had not been six hours\nin the Sound, when a gale came on, which lasted four days and nights,\nand which would have done for poor old Asp in half the time; our touch\nwith the Great Nation not having much improved our condition. Four-and-twenty hours later, and I should only have been a gallant\nCaptain Wentworth, in a small paragraph at one corner of the\nnewspapers; and being lost in only a sloop, nobody would have thought\nabout me.\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-05, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-08 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Anne's shudderings were to herself alone; but the Miss\nMusgroves could be as open as they were sincere, in their exclamations\nof pity and horror. \"And so then, I suppose,\" said Mrs Musgrove, in a low voice, as if\nthinking aloud, \"so then he went away to the Laconia, and there he met\nwith our poor boy. Charles, my dear,\" (beckoning him to her), \"do ask\nCaptain Wentworth where it was he first met with your poor brother. I\nalways forgot.\" \"It was at Gibraltar, mother, I know. Dick had been left ill at\nGibraltar, with a recommendation from his former captain to Captain\nWentworth.\" \"Oh! but, Charles, tell Captain Wentworth, he need not be afraid of\nmentioning poor Dick before me, for it would be rather a pleasure to\nhear him talked of by such a good friend.\" Charles, being somewhat more mindful of the probabilities of the case,\nonly nodded in reply, and walked away. The girls were now hunting for the Laconia; and Captain Wentworth could\nnot deny himself the pleasure of taking the precious volume into his\nown hands to save them the trouble, and once more read aloud the little\nstatement of her name and rate, and present non-commissioned class,\nobserving over it that she too had been one of the best friends man\never had. \"Ah! those were pleasant days when I had the Laconia! How fast I made\nmoney in her. A friend of mine and I had such a lovely cruise together\noff the Western Islands. Poor Harville, sister! You know how much he\nwanted money:  worse than myself. He had a wife. Excellent fellow. I\nshall never forget his happiness. He felt it all, so much for her\nsake. I wished for him again the next summer, when I had still the\nsame luck in the Mediterranean.\" \"And I am sure, Sir,\" said Mrs Musgrove, \"it was a lucky day for us,\nwhen you were put captain into that ship. We shall never forget what\nyou did.\" Her feelings made her speak low; and Captain Wentworth, hearing only in\npart, and probably not having Dick Musgrove at all near his thoughts,\nlooked rather in suspense, and as if waiting for more. \"My brother,\" whispered one of the girls; \"mamma is thinking of poor\nRichard.\" \"Poor dear fellow!\" continued Mrs Musgrove; \"he was grown so steady,\nand such an excellent correspondent, while he was under your care! Ah! it would have been a happy thing, if he had never left you. I assure\nyou, Captain Wentworth, we are very sorry he ever left you.\" There was a momentary expression in Captain Wentworth's face at this\nspeech, a certain glance of his bright eye, and curl of his handsome\nmouth, which convinced Anne, that instead of sharing in Mrs Musgrove's\nkind wishes, as to her son, he had probably been at some pains to get\nrid of him; but it was too transient an indulgence of self-amusement to\nbe detected by any who understood him less than herself; in another\nmoment he was perfectly collected and serious, and almost instantly\nafterwards coming up to the sofa, on which she and Mrs Musgrove were\nsitting, took a place by the latter, and entered into conversation with\nher, in a low voice, about her son, doing it with so much sympathy and\nnatural grace, as shewed the kindest consideration for all that was\nreal and unabsurd in the parent's feelings. They were actually on the same sofa, for Mrs Musgrove had most readily\nmade room for him; they were divided only by Mrs Musgrove. It was no\ninsignificant barrier, indeed. Mrs Musgrove was of a comfortable,\nsubstantial size, infinitely more fitted by nature to express good\ncheer and good humour, than tenderness and sentiment; and while the\nagitations of Anne's slender form, and pensive face, may be considered\nas very completely screened, Captain Wentworth should be allowed some\ncredit for the self-command with which he attended to her large fat\nsighings over the destiny of a son, whom alive nobody had cared for. Personal size and mental sorrow have certainly no necessary\nproportions. A large bulky figure has as good a right to be in deep\naffliction, as the most graceful set of limbs in the world. But, fair\nor not fair, there are unbecoming conjunctions, which reason will\npatronize in vain--which taste cannot tolerate--which ridicule will\nseize. The Admiral, after taking two or three refreshing turns about the room\nwith his hands behind him, being called to order by his wife, now came\nup to Captain Wentworth, and without any observation of what he might\nbe interrupting, thinking only of his own thoughts, began with--\n\n\"If you had been a week later at Lisbon, last spring, Frederick, you\nwould have been asked to give a passage to Lady Mary Grierson and her\ndaughters.\" \"Should I? I am glad I was not a week later then.\" The Admiral abused him for his want of gallantry. He defended himself;\nthough professing that he would never willingly admit any ladies on\nboard a ship of his, excepting for a ball, or a visit, which a few\nhours might comprehend. \"But, if I know myself,\" said he, \"this is from no want of gallantry\ntowards them. It is rather from feeling how impossible it is, with all\none's efforts, and all one's sacrifices, to make the accommodations on\nboard such as women ought to have. There can be no want of gallantry,\nAdmiral, in rating the claims of women to every personal comfort high,\nand this is what I do. I hate to hear of women on board, or to see\nthem on board; and no ship under my command shall ever convey a family\nof ladies anywhere, if I can help it.\" This brought his sister upon him. \"Oh! Frederick! But I cannot believe it of you.--All idle\nrefinement!--Women may be as comfortable on board, as in the best house\nin England. I believe I have lived as much on board as most women, and\nI know nothing superior to the accommodations of a man-of-war. I\ndeclare I have not a comfort or an indulgence about me, even at\nKellynch Hall,\" (with a kind bow to Anne), \"beyond what I always had in\nmost of the ships I have lived in; and they have been five altogether.\" \"Nothing to the purpose,\" replied her brother. \"You were living with\nyour husband, and were the only woman on board.\" \"But you, yourself, brought Mrs Harville, her sister, her cousin, and\nthree children, round from Portsmouth to Plymouth. Where was this\nsuperfine, extraordinary sort of gallantry of yours then?\" \"All merged in my friendship, Sophia. I would assist any brother\nofficer's wife that I could, and I would bring anything of Harville's\nfrom the world's end, if he wanted it. But do not imagine that I did\nnot feel it an evil in itself.\" \"Depend upon it, they were all perfectly comfortable.\" \"I might not like them the better for that perhaps. Such a number of\nwomen and children have no right to be comfortable on board.\" \"My dear Frederick, you are talking quite idly. Pray, what would\nbecome of us poor sailors' wives, who often want to be conveyed to one\nport or another, after our husbands, if everybody had your feelings?\" \"My feelings, you see, did not prevent my taking Mrs Harville and all\nher family to Plymouth.\" \"But I hate to hear you talking so like a fine gentleman, and as if\nwomen were all fine ladies, instead of rational creatures. We none of\nus expect to be in smooth water all our days.\" \"Ah! my dear,\" said the Admiral, \"when he had got a wife, he will sing\na different tune. When he is married, if we have the good luck to live\nto another war, we shall see him do as you and I, and a great many\nothers, have done. We shall have him very thankful to anybody that\nwill bring him his wife.\" \"Ay, that we shall.\" \"Now I have done,\" cried Captain Wentworth. \"When once married people\nbegin to attack me with,--'Oh! you will think very differently, when\nyou are married.' I can only say, 'No, I shall not;' and then they say\nagain, 'Yes, you will,' and there is an end of it.\" He got up and moved away. \"What a great traveller you must have been, ma'am!\" said Mrs Musgrove\nto Mrs Croft. \"Pretty well, ma'am in the fifteen years of my marriage; though many\nwomen have done more. I have crossed the Atlantic four times, and have\nbeen once to the East Indies, and back again, and only once; besides\nbeing in different places about home: Cork, and Lisbon, and Gibraltar. But I never went beyond the Streights, and never was in the West\nIndies.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-08, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-11 The user is reading a book]\n<User> We do not call Bermuda or Bahama, you know, the West Indies.\" Mrs Musgrove had not a word to say in dissent; she could not accuse\nherself of having ever called them anything in the whole course of her\nlife. \"And I do assure you, ma'am,\" pursued Mrs Croft, \"that nothing can\nexceed the accommodations of a man-of-war; I speak, you know, of the\nhigher rates. When you come to a frigate, of course, you are more\nconfined; though any reasonable woman may be perfectly happy in one of\nthem; and I can safely say, that the happiest part of my life has been\nspent on board a ship. While we were together, you know, there was\nnothing to be feared. Thank God! I have always been blessed with\nexcellent health, and no climate disagrees with me. A little\ndisordered always the first twenty-four hours of going to sea, but\nnever knew what sickness was afterwards. The only time I ever really\nsuffered in body or mind, the only time that I ever fancied myself\nunwell, or had any ideas of danger, was the winter that I passed by\nmyself at Deal, when the Admiral (Captain Croft then) was in the North\nSeas. I lived in perpetual fright at that time, and had all manner of\nimaginary complaints from not knowing what to do with myself, or when I\nshould hear from him next; but as long as we could be together, nothing\never ailed me, and I never met with the smallest inconvenience.\" \"Aye, to be sure. Yes, indeed, oh yes! I am quite of your opinion,\nMrs Croft,\" was Mrs Musgrove's hearty answer. \"There is nothing so bad\nas a separation. I am quite of your opinion. I know what it is, for\nMr Musgrove always attends the assizes, and I am so glad when they are\nover, and he is safe back again.\" The evening ended with dancing. On its being proposed, Anne offered\nher services, as usual; and though her eyes would sometimes fill with\ntears as she sat at the instrument, she was extremely glad to be\nemployed, and desired nothing in return but to be unobserved. It was a merry, joyous party, and no one seemed in higher spirits than\nCaptain Wentworth. She felt that he had every thing to elevate him\nwhich general attention and deference, and especially the attention of\nall the young women, could do. The Miss Hayters, the females of the\nfamily of cousins already mentioned, were apparently admitted to the\nhonour of being in love with him; and as for Henrietta and Louisa, they\nboth seemed so entirely occupied by him, that nothing but the continued\nappearance of the most perfect good-will between themselves could have\nmade it credible that they were not decided rivals. If he were a\nlittle spoilt by such universal, such eager admiration, who could\nwonder? These were some of the thoughts which occupied Anne, while her fingers\nwere mechanically at work, proceeding for half an hour together,\nequally without error, and without consciousness. Once she felt that\nhe was looking at herself,  observing her altered features, perhaps,\ntrying to trace in them the ruins of the face which had once charmed\nhim; and once she knew that he must have spoken of her; she was hardly\naware of it, till she heard the answer; but then she was sure of his\nhaving asked his partner whether Miss Elliot never danced? The answer\nwas, \"Oh, no; never; she has quite given up dancing. She had rather\nplay. She is never tired of playing.\" Once, too, he spoke to her. She had left the instrument on the dancing being over, and he had sat\ndown to try to make out an air which he wished to give the Miss\nMusgroves an idea of. Unintentionally she returned to that part of the\nroom; he saw her, and, instantly rising, said, with studied politeness--\n\n\"I beg your pardon, madam, this is your seat;\" and though she\nimmediately drew back with a decided negative, he was not to be induced\nto sit down again. Anne did not wish for more of such looks and speeches. His cold\npoliteness, his ceremonious grace, were worse than anything. Captain Wentworth was come to Kellynch as to a home, to stay as long as\nhe liked, being as thoroughly the object of the Admiral's fraternal\nkindness as of his wife's. He had intended, on first arriving, to\nproceed very soon into Shropshire, and visit the brother settled in\nthat country, but the attractions of Uppercross induced him to put this\noff. There was so much of friendliness, and of flattery, and of\neverything most bewitching in his reception there; the old were so\nhospitable, the young so agreeable, that he could not but resolve to\nremain where he was, and take all the charms and perfections of\nEdward's wife upon credit a little longer. It was soon Uppercross with him almost every day. The Musgroves could\nhardly be more ready to invite than he to come, particularly in the\nmorning, when he had no companion at home, for the Admiral and Mrs\nCroft were generally out of doors together, interesting themselves in\ntheir new possessions, their grass, and their sheep, and dawdling about\nin a way not endurable to a third person, or driving out in a gig,\nlately added to their establishment. Hitherto there had been but one opinion of Captain Wentworth among the\nMusgroves and their dependencies. It was unvarying, warm admiration\neverywhere; but this intimate footing was not more than established,\nwhen a certain Charles Hayter returned among them, to be a good deal\ndisturbed by it, and to think Captain Wentworth very much in the way. Charles Hayter was the eldest of all the cousins, and a very amiable,\npleasing young man, between whom and Henrietta there had been a\nconsiderable appearance of attachment previous to Captain Wentworth's\nintroduction. He was in orders; and having a curacy in the\nneighbourhood, where residence was not required, lived at his father's\nhouse, only two miles from Uppercross. A short absence from home had\nleft his fair one unguarded by his attentions at this critical period,\nand when he came back he had the pain of finding very altered manners,\nand of seeing Captain Wentworth. Mrs Musgrove and Mrs Hayter were sisters. They had each had money, but\ntheir marriages had made a material difference in their degree of\nconsequence. Mr Hayter had some property of his own, but it was\ninsignificant compared with Mr Musgrove's; and while the Musgroves were\nin the first class of society in the country, the young Hayters would,\nfrom their parents' inferior, retired, and unpolished way of living,\nand their own defective education, have been hardly in any class at\nall, but for their connexion with Uppercross, this eldest son of course\nexcepted, who had chosen to be a scholar and a gentleman, and who was\nvery superior in cultivation and manners to all the rest. The two families had always been on excellent terms, there being no\npride on one side, and no envy on the other, and only such a\nconsciousness of superiority in the Miss Musgroves, as made them\npleased to improve their cousins. Charles's attentions to Henrietta\nhad been observed by her father and mother without any disapprobation. \"It would not be a great match for her; but if Henrietta liked him,\"--\nand Henrietta did seem to like him. Henrietta fully thought so herself, before Captain Wentworth came; but\nfrom that time Cousin Charles had been very much forgotten. Which of the two sisters was preferred by Captain Wentworth was as yet\nquite doubtful, as far as Anne's observation reached. Henrietta was\nperhaps the prettiest, Louisa had the higher spirits; and she knew not\nnow, whether the more gentle or the more lively character were most\nlikely to attract him. Mr and Mrs Musgrove, either from seeing little, or from an entire\nconfidence in the discretion of both their daughters, and of all the\nyoung men who came near them, seemed to leave everything to take its\nchance. There was not the smallest appearance of solicitude or remark\nabout them in the Mansion-house; but it was different at the Cottage:\nthe young couple there were more disposed to speculate and wonder; and\nCaptain Wentworth had not been above four or five times in the Miss\nMusgroves' company, and Charles Hayter had but just reappeared, when\nAnne had to listen to the opinions of her brother and sister, as to\nwhich was the one liked best. Charles gave it for Louisa, Mary for\nHenrietta, but quite agreeing that to have him marry either could be\nextremely delightful. Charles \"had never seen a pleasanter man in his life; and from what he\nhad once heard Captain Wentworth himself say, was very sure that he had\nnot made less than twenty thousand pounds by the war.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-11, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-13 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Here was a\nfortune at once; besides which, there would be the chance of what might\nbe done in any future war; and he was sure Captain Wentworth was as\nlikely a man to distinguish himself as any officer in the navy. Oh! it\nwould be a capital match for either of his sisters.\" \"Upon my word it would,\" replied Mary. \"Dear me! If he should rise to\nany very great honours! If he should ever be made a baronet! 'Lady\nWentworth' sounds very well. That would be a noble thing, indeed, for\nHenrietta! She would take place of me then, and Henrietta would not\ndislike that. Sir Frederick and Lady Wentworth! It would be but a new\ncreation, however, and I never think much of your new creations.\" It suited Mary best to think Henrietta the one preferred on the very\naccount of Charles Hayter, whose pretensions she wished to see put an\nend to. She looked down very decidedly upon the Hayters, and thought\nit would be quite a misfortune to have the existing connection between\nthe families renewed--very sad for herself and her children. \"You know,\" said she, \"I cannot think him at all a fit match for\nHenrietta; and considering the alliances which the Musgroves have made,\nshe has no right to throw herself away. I do not think any young woman\nhas a right to make a choice that may be disagreeable and inconvenient\nto the principal part of her family, and be giving bad connections to\nthose who have not been used to them. And, pray, who is Charles\nHayter? Nothing but a country curate. A most improper match for Miss\nMusgrove of Uppercross.\" Her husband, however, would not agree with her here; for besides having\na regard for his cousin, Charles Hayter was an eldest son, and he saw\nthings as an eldest son himself. \"Now you are talking nonsense, Mary,\" was therefore his answer. \"It\nwould not be a great match for Henrietta, but Charles has a very fair\nchance, through the Spicers, of getting something from the Bishop in\nthe course of a year or two; and you will please to remember, that he\nis the eldest son; whenever my uncle dies, he steps into very pretty\nproperty. The estate at Winthrop is not less than two hundred and\nfifty acres, besides the farm near Taunton, which is some of the best\nland in the country. I grant you, that any of them but Charles would\nbe a very shocking match for Henrietta, and indeed it could not be; he\nis the only one that could be possible; but he is a very good-natured,\ngood sort of a fellow; and whenever Winthrop comes into his hands, he\nwill make a different sort of place of it, and live in a very different\nsort of way; and with that property, he will never be a contemptible\nman--good, freehold property. No, no; Henrietta might do worse than\nmarry Charles Hayter; and if she has him, and Louisa can get Captain\nWentworth, I shall be very well satisfied.\" \"Charles may say what he pleases,\" cried Mary to Anne, as soon as he\nwas out of the room, \"but it would be shocking to have Henrietta marry\nCharles Hayter; a very bad thing for her, and still worse for me; and\ntherefore it is very much to be wished that Captain Wentworth may soon\nput him quite out of her head, and I have very little doubt that he\nhas. She took hardly any notice of Charles Hayter yesterday. I wish\nyou had been there to see her behaviour. And as to Captain Wentworth's\nliking Louisa as well as Henrietta, it is nonsense to say so; for he\ncertainly does like Henrietta a great deal the best. But Charles is so\npositive! I wish you had been with us yesterday, for then you might\nhave decided between us; and I am sure you would have thought as I did,\nunless you had been determined to give it against me.\" A dinner at Mr Musgrove's had been the occasion when all these things\nshould have been seen by Anne; but she had staid at home, under the\nmixed plea of a headache of her own, and some return of indisposition\nin little Charles. She had thought only of avoiding Captain Wentworth;\nbut an escape from being appealed to as umpire was now added to the\nadvantages of a quiet evening. As to Captain Wentworth's views, she deemed it of more consequence that\nhe should know his own mind early enough not to be endangering the\nhappiness of either sister, or impeaching his own honour, than that he\nshould prefer Henrietta to Louisa, or Louisa to Henrietta. Either of\nthem would, in all probability, make him an affectionate, good-humoured\nwife. With regard to Charles Hayter, she had delicacy which must be\npained by any lightness of conduct in a well-meaning young woman, and a\nheart to sympathize in any of the sufferings it occasioned; but if\nHenrietta found herself mistaken in the nature of her feelings, the\nalteration could not be understood too soon. Charles Hayter had met with much to disquiet and mortify him in his\ncousin's behaviour. She had too old a regard for him to be so wholly\nestranged as might in two meetings extinguish every past hope, and\nleave him nothing to do but to keep away from Uppercross:  but there\nwas such a change as became very alarming, when such a man as Captain\nWentworth was to be regarded as the probable cause. He had been absent\nonly two Sundays, and when they parted, had left her interested, even\nto the height of his wishes, in his prospect of soon quitting his\npresent curacy, and obtaining that of Uppercross instead. It had then\nseemed the object nearest her heart, that Dr Shirley, the rector, who\nfor more than forty years had been zealously discharging all the duties\nof his office, but was now growing too infirm for many of them, should\nbe quite fixed on engaging a curate; should make his curacy quite as\ngood as he could afford, and should give Charles Hayter the promise of\nit. The advantage of his having to come only to Uppercross, instead of\ngoing six miles another way; of his having, in every respect, a better\ncuracy; of his belonging to their dear Dr Shirley, and of dear, good Dr\nShirley's being relieved from the duty which he could no longer get\nthrough without most injurious fatigue, had been a great deal, even to\nLouisa, but had been almost everything to Henrietta. When he came\nback, alas! the zeal of the business was gone by. Louisa could not\nlisten at all to his account of a conversation which he had just held\nwith Dr Shirley: she was at a window, looking out for Captain\nWentworth; and even Henrietta had at best only a divided attention to\ngive, and seemed to have forgotten all the former doubt and solicitude\nof the negotiation. \"Well, I am very glad indeed:  but I always thought you would have it;\nI always thought you sure. It did not appear to me that--in short, you\nknow, Dr Shirley must have a curate, and you had secured his promise. Is he coming, Louisa?\" One morning, very soon after the dinner at the Musgroves, at which Anne\nhad not been present, Captain Wentworth walked into the drawing-room at\nthe Cottage, where were only herself and the little invalid Charles,\nwho was lying on the sofa. The surprise of finding himself almost alone with Anne Elliot, deprived\nhis manners of their usual composure:  he started, and could only say,\n\"I thought the Miss Musgroves had been here: Mrs Musgrove told me I\nshould find them here,\" before he walked to the window to recollect\nhimself, and feel how he ought to behave. \"They are up stairs with my sister:  they will be down in a few\nmoments, I dare say,\" had been Anne's reply, in all the confusion that\nwas natural; and if the child had not called her to come and do\nsomething for him, she would have been out of the room the next moment,\nand released Captain Wentworth as well as herself. He continued at the window; and after calmly and politely saying, \"I\nhope the little boy is better,\" was silent. She was obliged to kneel down by the sofa, and remain there to satisfy\nher patient; and thus they continued a few minutes, when, to her very\ngreat satisfaction, she heard some other person crossing the little\nvestibule. She hoped, on turning her head, to see the master of the\nhouse; but it proved to be one much less calculated for making matters\neasy--Charles Hayter, probably not at all better pleased by the sight\nof Captain Wentworth than Captain Wentworth had been by the sight of\nAnne. She only attempted to say, \"How do you do? Will you not sit down? The\nothers will be here presently.\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-13, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-15 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Captain Wentworth, however, came from his window, apparently not\nill-disposed for conversation; but Charles Hayter soon put an end to\nhis attempts by seating himself near the table, and taking up the\nnewspaper; and Captain Wentworth returned to his window. Another minute brought another addition. The younger boy, a remarkable\nstout, forward child, of two years old, having got the door opened for\nhim by some one without, made his determined appearance among them, and\nwent straight to the sofa to see what was going on, and put in his\nclaim to anything good that might be giving away. There being nothing to eat, he could only have some play; and as his\naunt would not let him tease his sick brother, he began to fasten\nhimself upon her, as she knelt, in such a way that, busy as she was\nabout Charles, she could not shake him off. She spoke to him, ordered,\nentreated, and insisted in vain. Once she did contrive to push him\naway, but the boy had the greater pleasure in getting upon her back\nagain directly. \"Walter,\" said she, \"get down this moment. You are extremely\ntroublesome. I am very angry with you.\" \"Walter,\" cried Charles Hayter, \"why do you not do as you are bid? Do\nnot you hear your aunt speak? Come to me, Walter, come to cousin\nCharles.\" But not a bit did Walter stir. In another moment, however, she found herself in the state of being\nreleased from him; some one was taking him from her, though he had bent\ndown her head so much, that his little sturdy hands were unfastened\nfrom around her neck, and he was resolutely borne away, before she knew\nthat Captain Wentworth had done it. Her sensations on the discovery made her perfectly speechless. She\ncould not even thank him. She could only hang over little Charles,\nwith most disordered feelings. His kindness in stepping forward to her\nrelief, the manner, the silence in which it had passed, the little\nparticulars of the circumstance, with the conviction soon forced on her\nby the noise he was studiously making with the child, that he meant to\navoid hearing her thanks, and rather sought to testify that her\nconversation was the last of his wants, produced such a confusion of\nvarying, but very painful agitation, as she could not recover from,\ntill enabled by the entrance of Mary and the Miss Musgroves to make\nover her little patient to their cares, and leave the room. She could\nnot stay. It might have been an opportunity of watching the loves and\njealousies of the four--they were now altogether; but she could stay\nfor none of it. It was evident that Charles Hayter was not well\ninclined towards Captain Wentworth. She had a strong impression of his\nhaving said, in a vext tone of voice, after Captain Wentworth's\ninterference, \"You ought to have minded me, Walter; I told you not to\nteaze your aunt;\" and could comprehend his regretting that Captain\nWentworth should do what he ought to have done himself. But neither\nCharles Hayter's feelings, nor anybody's feelings, could interest her,\ntill she had a little better arranged her own. She was ashamed of\nherself, quite ashamed of being so nervous, so overcome by such a\ntrifle; but so it was, and it required a long application of solitude\nand reflection to recover her. Other opportunities of making her observations could not fail to occur. Anne had soon been in company with all the four together often enough\nto have an opinion, though too wise to acknowledge as much at home,\nwhere she knew it would have satisfied neither husband nor wife; for\nwhile she considered Louisa to be rather the favourite, she could not\nbut think, as far as she might dare to judge from memory and\nexperience, that Captain Wentworth was not in love with either. They\nwere more in love with him; yet there it was not love. It was a little\nfever of admiration; but it might, probably must, end in love with\nsome. Charles Hayter seemed aware of being slighted, and yet Henrietta\nhad sometimes the air of being divided between them. Anne longed for\nthe power of representing to them all what they were about, and of\npointing out some of the evils they were exposing themselves to. She\ndid not attribute guile to any. It was the highest satisfaction to her\nto believe Captain Wentworth not in the least aware of the pain he was\noccasioning. There was no triumph, no pitiful triumph in his manner. He had, probably, never heard, and never thought of any claims of\nCharles Hayter. He was only wrong in accepting the attentions (for\naccepting must be the word) of two young women at once. After a short struggle, however, Charles Hayter seemed to quit the\nfield. Three days had passed without his coming once to Uppercross; a\nmost decided change. He had even refused one regular invitation to\ndinner; and having been found on the occasion by Mr Musgrove with some\nlarge books before him, Mr and Mrs Musgrove were sure all could not be\nright, and talked, with grave faces, of his studying himself to death. It was Mary's hope and belief that he had received a positive dismissal\nfrom Henrietta, and her husband lived under the constant dependence of\nseeing him to-morrow. Anne could only feel that Charles Hayter was\nwise. One morning, about this time Charles Musgrove and Captain Wentworth\nbeing gone a-shooting together, as the sisters in the Cottage were\nsitting quietly at work, they were visited at the window by the sisters\nfrom the Mansion-house. It was a very fine November day, and the Miss Musgroves came through\nthe little grounds, and stopped for no other purpose than to say, that\nthey were going to take a long walk, and therefore concluded Mary could\nnot like to go with them; and when Mary immediately replied, with some\njealousy at not being supposed a good walker, \"Oh, yes, I should like\nto join you very much, I am very fond of a long walk;\" Anne felt\npersuaded, by the looks of the two girls, that it was precisely what\nthey did not wish, and admired again the sort of necessity which the\nfamily habits seemed to produce, of everything being to be\ncommunicated, and everything being to be done together, however\nundesired and inconvenient. She tried to dissuade Mary from going, but\nin vain; and that being the case, thought it best to accept the Miss\nMusgroves' much more cordial invitation to herself to go likewise, as\nshe might be useful in turning back with her sister, and lessening the\ninterference in any plan of their own. \"I cannot imagine why they should suppose I should not like a long\nwalk,\" said Mary, as she went up stairs. \"Everybody is always\nsupposing that I am not a good walker; and yet they would not have been\npleased, if we had refused to join them. When people come in this\nmanner on purpose to ask us, how can one say no?\" Just as they were setting off, the gentlemen returned. They had taken\nout a young dog, who had spoilt their sport, and sent them back early. Their time and strength, and spirits, were, therefore, exactly ready\nfor this walk, and they entered into it with pleasure. Could Anne have\nforeseen such a junction, she would have staid at home; but, from some\nfeelings of interest and curiosity, she fancied now that it was too\nlate to retract, and the whole six set forward together in the\ndirection chosen by the Miss Musgroves, who evidently considered the\nwalk as under their guidance. Anne's object was, not to be in the way of anybody; and where the\nnarrow paths across the fields made many separations necessary, to keep\nwith her brother and sister. Her pleasure in the walk must arise from\nthe exercise and the day, from the view of the last smiles of the year\nupon the tawny leaves, and withered hedges, and from repeating to\nherself some few of the thousand poetical descriptions extant of\nautumn, that season of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the mind\nof taste and tenderness, that season which had drawn from every poet,\nworthy of being read, some attempt at description, or some lines of\nfeeling. She occupied her mind as much as possible in such like\nmusings and quotations; but it was not possible, that when within reach\nof Captain Wentworth's conversation with either of the Miss Musgroves,\nshe should not try to hear it; yet she caught little very remarkable. It was mere lively chat, such as any young persons, on an intimate\nfooting, might fall into. He was more engaged with Louisa than with\nHenrietta. Louisa certainly put more forward for his notice than her\nsister. This distinction appeared to increase, and there was one\nspeech of Louisa's which struck her. After one of the many praises of\nthe day, which were continually bursting forth, Captain Wentworth\nadded:--\n\n\"What glorious weather for the Admiral and my sister!\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-15, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-16 The user is reading a book]\n<User> They meant to\ntake a long drive this morning; perhaps we may hail them from some of\nthese hills. They talked of coming into this side of the country. I\nwonder whereabouts they will upset to-day. Oh! it does happen very\noften, I assure you; but my sister makes nothing of it; she would as\nlieve be tossed out as not.\" \"Ah! You make the most of it, I know,\" cried Louisa, \"but if it were\nreally so, I should do just the same in her place. If I loved a man,\nas she loves the Admiral, I would always be with him, nothing should\never separate us, and I would rather be overturned by him, than driven\nsafely by anybody else.\" It was spoken with enthusiasm. \"Had you?\" cried he, catching the same tone; \"I honour you!\" And there\nwas silence between them for a little while. Anne could not immediately fall into a quotation again. The sweet\nscenes of autumn were for a while put by, unless some tender sonnet,\nfraught with the apt analogy of the declining year, with declining\nhappiness, and the images of youth and hope, and spring, all gone\ntogether, blessed her memory. She roused herself to say, as they\nstruck by order into another path, \"Is not this one of the ways to\nWinthrop?\" But nobody heard, or, at least, nobody answered her. Winthrop, however, or its environs--for young men are, sometimes to be\nmet with, strolling about near home--was their destination; and after\nanother half mile of gradual ascent through large enclosures, where the\nploughs at work, and the fresh made path spoke the farmer counteracting\nthe sweets of poetical despondence, and meaning to have spring again,\nthey gained the summit of the most considerable hill, which parted\nUppercross and Winthrop, and soon commanded a full view of the latter,\nat the foot of the hill on the other side. Winthrop, without beauty and without dignity, was stretched before them;\nan indifferent house, standing low, and hemmed in by the barns and\nbuildings of a farm-yard. Mary exclaimed, \"Bless me! here is Winthrop. I declare I had no idea! Well now, I think we had better turn back; I am excessively tired.\" Henrietta, conscious and ashamed, and seeing no cousin Charles walking\nalong any path, or leaning against any gate, was ready to do as Mary\nwished; but \"No!\" said Charles Musgrove, and \"No, no!\" cried Louisa\nmore eagerly, and taking her sister aside, seemed to be arguing the\nmatter warmly. Charles, in the meanwhile, was very decidedly declaring his resolution\nof calling on his aunt, now that he was so near; and very evidently,\nthough more fearfully, trying to induce his wife to go too. But this\nwas one of the points on which the lady shewed her strength; and when\nhe recommended the advantage of resting herself a quarter of an hour at\nWinthrop, as she felt so tired, she resolutely answered, \"Oh! no,\nindeed! walking up that hill again would do her more harm than any\nsitting down could do her good;\" and, in short, her look and manner\ndeclared, that go she would not. After a little succession of these sort of debates and consultations,\nit was settled between Charles and his two sisters, that he and\nHenrietta should just run down for a few minutes, to see their aunt and\ncousins, while the rest of the party waited for them at the top of the\nhill. Louisa seemed the principal arranger of the plan; and, as she\nwent a little way with them, down the hill, still talking to Henrietta,\nMary took the opportunity of looking scornfully around her, and saying\nto Captain Wentworth--\n\n\"It is very unpleasant, having such connexions! But, I assure you, I\nhave never been in the house above twice in my life.\" She received no other answer, than an artificial, assenting smile,\nfollowed by a contemptuous glance, as he turned away, which Anne\nperfectly knew the meaning of. The brow of the hill, where they remained, was a cheerful spot: Louisa\nreturned; and Mary, finding a comfortable seat for herself on the step\nof a stile, was very well satisfied so long as the others all stood\nabout her; but when Louisa drew Captain Wentworth away, to try for a\ngleaning of nuts in an adjoining hedge-row, and they were gone by\ndegrees quite out of sight and sound, Mary was happy no longer; she\nquarrelled with her own seat, was sure Louisa had got a much better\nsomewhere, and nothing could prevent her from going to look for a\nbetter also. She turned through the same gate, but could not see them. Anne found a nice seat for her, on a dry sunny bank, under the\nhedge-row, in which she had no doubt of their still being, in some spot\nor other. Mary sat down for a moment, but it would not do; she was\nsure Louisa had found a better seat somewhere else, and she would go on\ntill she overtook her. Anne, really tired herself, was glad to sit down; and she very soon\nheard Captain Wentworth and Louisa in the hedge-row, behind her, as if\nmaking their way back along the rough, wild sort of channel, down the\ncentre. They were speaking as they drew near. Louisa's voice was the\nfirst distinguished. She seemed to be in the middle of some eager\nspeech. What Anne first heard was--\n\n\"And so, I made her go. I could not bear that she should be frightened\nfrom the visit by such nonsense. What! would I be turned back from\ndoing a thing that I had determined to do, and that I knew to be right,\nby the airs and interference of such a person, or of any person I may\nsay? No, I have no idea of being so easily persuaded. When I have\nmade up my mind, I have made it; and Henrietta seemed entirely to have\nmade up hers to call at Winthrop to-day; and yet, she was as near\ngiving it up, out of nonsensical complaisance!\" \"She would have turned back then, but for you?\" \"She would indeed. I am almost ashamed to say it.\" \"Happy for her, to have such a mind as yours at hand! After the hints\nyou gave just now, which did but confirm my own observations, the last\ntime I was in company with him,  I need not affect to have no\ncomprehension of what is going on. I see that more than a mere dutiful\nmorning visit to your aunt was in question; and woe betide him, and her\ntoo, when it comes to things of consequence, when they are placed in\ncircumstances requiring fortitude and strength of mind, if she have not\nresolution enough to resist idle interference in such a trifle as this. Your sister is an amiable creature; but yours is the character of\ndecision and firmness, I see. If you value her conduct or happiness,\ninfuse as much of your own spirit into her as you can. But this, no\ndoubt, you have been always doing. It is the worst evil of too\nyielding and indecisive a character, that no influence over it can be\ndepended on. You are never sure of a good impression being durable;\neverybody may sway it. Let those who would be happy be firm. Here is\na nut,\" said he, catching one down from an upper bough, \"to exemplify:\na beautiful glossy nut, which, blessed with original strength, has\noutlived all the storms of autumn. Not a puncture, not a weak spot\nanywhere. This nut,\" he continued, with playful solemnity, \"while so\nmany of his brethren have fallen and been trodden under foot, is still\nin possession of all the happiness that a hazel nut can be supposed\ncapable of.\" Then returning to his former earnest tone--\"My first\nwish for all whom I am interested in, is that they should be firm. If\nLouisa Musgrove would be beautiful and happy in her November of life,\nshe will cherish all her present powers of mind.\" He had done, and was unanswered. It would have surprised Anne if\nLouisa could have readily answered such a speech:  words of such\ninterest, spoken with such serious warmth! She could imagine what\nLouisa was feeling. For herself, she feared to move, lest she should\nbe seen. While she remained, a bush of low rambling holly protected\nher, and they were moving on. Before they were beyond her hearing,\nhowever, Louisa spoke again. \"Mary is good-natured enough in many respects,\" said she; \"but she does\nsometimes provoke me excessively, by her nonsense and pride--the Elliot\npride. She has a great deal too much of the Elliot pride. We do so\nwish that Charles had married Anne instead. I suppose you know he\nwanted to marry Anne?\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-16, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-17 The user is reading a book]\n<User> After a moment's pause, Captain Wentworth said--\n\n\"Do you mean that she refused him?\" \"Oh! yes; certainly.\" \"When did that happen?\" \"I do not exactly know, for Henrietta and I were at school at the time;\nbut I believe about a year before he married Mary. I wish she had\naccepted him. We should all have liked her a great deal better; and\npapa and mamma always think it was her great friend Lady Russell's\ndoing, that she did not. They think Charles might not be learned and\nbookish enough to please Lady Russell, and that therefore, she\npersuaded Anne to refuse him.\" The sounds were retreating, and Anne distinguished no more. Her own\nemotions still kept her fixed. She had much to recover from, before\nshe could move. The listener's proverbial fate was not absolutely\nhers; she had heard no evil of herself, but she had heard a great deal\nof very painful import. She saw how her own character was considered\nby Captain Wentworth, and there had been just that degree of feeling\nand curiosity about her in his manner which must give her extreme\nagitation. As soon as she could, she went after Mary, and having found, and walked\nback with her to their former station, by the stile, felt some comfort\nin their whole party being immediately afterwards collected, and once\nmore in motion together. Her spirits wanted the solitude and silence\nwhich only numbers could give. Charles and Henrietta returned, bringing, as may be conjectured,\nCharles Hayter with them. The minutiae of the business Anne could not\nattempt to understand; even Captain Wentworth did not seem admitted to\nperfect confidence here; but that there had been a withdrawing on the\ngentleman's side, and a relenting on the lady's, and that they were now\nvery glad to be together again, did not admit a doubt. Henrietta\nlooked a little ashamed, but very well pleased;--Charles Hayter\nexceedingly happy:  and they were devoted to each other almost from the\nfirst instant of their all setting forward for Uppercross. Everything now marked out Louisa for Captain Wentworth; nothing could\nbe plainer; and where many divisions were necessary, or even where they\nwere not, they walked side by side nearly as much as the other two. In\na long strip of meadow land, where there was ample space for all, they\nwere thus divided, forming three distinct parties; and to that party of\nthe three which boasted least animation, and least complaisance, Anne\nnecessarily belonged. She joined Charles and Mary, and was tired\nenough to be very glad of Charles's other arm; but Charles, though in\nvery good humour with her, was out of temper with his wife. Mary had\nshewn herself disobliging to him, and was now to reap the consequence,\nwhich consequence was his dropping her arm almost every moment to cut\noff the heads of some nettles in the hedge with his switch; and when\nMary began to complain of it, and lament her being ill-used, according\nto custom, in being on the hedge side, while Anne was never incommoded\non the other, he dropped the arms of both to hunt after a weasel which\nhe had a momentary glance of, and they could hardly get him along at\nall. This long meadow bordered a lane, which their footpath, at the end of\nit was to cross, and when the party had all reached the gate of exit,\nthe carriage advancing in the same direction, which had been some time\nheard, was just coming up, and proved to be Admiral Croft's gig. He\nand his wife had taken their intended drive, and were returning home. Upon hearing how long a walk the young people had engaged in, they\nkindly offered a seat to any lady who might be particularly tired; it\nwould save her a full mile, and they were going through Uppercross. The invitation was general, and generally declined. The Miss Musgroves\nwere not at all tired, and Mary was either offended, by not being asked\nbefore any of the others, or what Louisa called the Elliot pride could\nnot endure to make a third in a one horse chaise. The walking party had crossed the lane, and were surmounting an\nopposite stile, and the Admiral was putting his horse in motion again,\nwhen Captain Wentworth cleared the hedge in a moment to say something\nto his sister. The something might be guessed by its effects. \"Miss Elliot, I am sure you are tired,\" cried Mrs Croft. \"Do let us\nhave the pleasure of taking you home. Here is excellent room for\nthree, I assure you. If we were all like you, I believe we might sit\nfour. You must, indeed, you must.\" Anne was still in the lane; and though instinctively beginning to\ndecline, she was not allowed to proceed. The Admiral's kind urgency\ncame in support of his wife's; they would not be refused; they\ncompressed themselves into the smallest possible space to leave her a\ncorner, and Captain Wentworth, without saying a word, turned to her,\nand quietly obliged her to be assisted into the carriage. Yes; he had done it. She was in the carriage, and felt that he had\nplaced her there, that his will and his hands had done it, that she\nowed it to his perception of her fatigue, and his resolution to give\nher rest. She was very much affected by the view of his disposition\ntowards her, which all these things made apparent. This little\ncircumstance seemed the completion of all that had gone before. She\nunderstood him. He could not forgive her, but he could not be\nunfeeling. Though condemning her for the past, and considering it with\nhigh and unjust resentment, though perfectly careless of her, and\nthough becoming attached to another, still he could not see her suffer,\nwithout the desire of giving her relief. It was a remainder of former\nsentiment; it was an impulse of pure, though unacknowledged friendship;\nit was a proof of his own warm and amiable heart, which she could not\ncontemplate without emotions so compounded of pleasure and pain, that\nshe knew not which prevailed. Her answers to the kindness and the remarks of her companions were at\nfirst unconsciously given. They had travelled half their way along the\nrough lane, before she was quite awake to what they said. She then\nfound them talking of \"Frederick.\" \"He certainly means to have one or other of those two girls, Sophy,\"\nsaid the Admiral; \"but there is no saying which. He has been running\nafter them, too, long enough, one would think, to make up his mind. Ay, this comes of the peace. If it were war now, he would have settled\nit long ago. We sailors, Miss Elliot, cannot afford to make long\ncourtships in time of war. How many days was it, my dear, between the\nfirst time of my seeing you and our sitting down together in our\nlodgings at North Yarmouth?\" \"We had better not talk about it, my dear,\" replied Mrs Croft,\npleasantly; \"for if Miss Elliot were to hear how soon we came to an\nunderstanding, she would never be persuaded that we could be happy\ntogether. I had known you by character, however, long before.\" \"Well, and I had heard of you as a very pretty girl, and what were we\nto wait for besides? I do not like having such things so long in hand. I wish Frederick would spread a little more canvass, and bring us home\none of these young ladies to Kellynch. Then there would always be\ncompany for them. And very nice young ladies they both are; I hardly\nknow one from the other.\" \"Very good humoured, unaffected girls, indeed,\" said Mrs Croft, in a\ntone of calmer praise, such as made Anne suspect that her keener powers\nmight not consider either of them as quite worthy of her brother; \"and\na very respectable family. One could not be connected with better\npeople. My dear Admiral, that post! we shall certainly take that\npost.\" But by coolly giving the reins a better direction herself they happily\npassed the danger; and by once afterwards judiciously putting out her\nhand they neither fell into a rut, nor ran foul of a dung-cart; and\nAnne, with some amusement at their style of driving, which she imagined\nno bad representation of the general guidance of their affairs, found\nherself safely deposited by them at the Cottage.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-17, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far."]
[{"question": "Summarize the content of the book I read from 2024-01-01 to 2024-01-17", "answer": "Captain Wentworth, Anne Elliot, Charles Musgrove, Mary Musgrove, Uppercross, Kellynch Hall, Great House, Musgrove family, Miss Musgroves, Louisa Musgrove, Henrietta Musgrove, Charles Hayter, Mrs. Musgrove, Mr. Musgrove, Mrs. Croft, Admiral Croft, Winthrop, Cottage, injured child, collarbone dislocation, apothecary, dinner invitation, hunting, naval adventures, ship Asp, Richard Musgrove, dancing, social hierarchy, marriage speculation, proposal rejection, autumn walk, carriage ride, decision and firmness, emotional agitation, solitude and reflection, pride, admiration, mistaken attentions, character growth, past relationship, honor, civility, poetic quotations, family dynamics, advantageous position, Dr. Shirley, rector, men-of-war, accommodations for women, love triangle, mutual enthusiasm, Charles Musgrove's proposal, reestablished good terms, pleasure and pain, observation, marriage intentions, time period: eight years since past relationship"}]