Lady Russell's Reconciliation

In the matter of days following the card-party at Camden-Place, Lady Russell found herself placated yet melancholic, these emotions incensed by a profound feeling of displacement. When she had made the journey to Bath, she had been driven by a certain hope. In Anne, she recognized a stubbornness which would take a great deal of tempering, and it was here that she had hoped to see this metal cooled. Mr. Elliot's introduction had further bolstered these hopes, his reputation and character now redeemed through Sir Walter's forgiveness. Yet, though she sensed nothing but good intentions in his pursuit of Anne, she could not help but feel the reluctance with which the girl would meet this match.

"If only her mother were here," she sighed to herself, staring into the darkness through the thick paned glass of her lodging on Rivers-street. "She would certainly know what to say, how to warn her." The very nature of her current accommodations spoke to this as well as anything. Certainly, the Elliot's residence at Camden-Place was nothing to be scoffed at. Even in its somewhat meager size, it amply provided luxuries befitting one of Sir Walter's status; after all, she had been the one to select it. Yet, even with this, there remained the fact of his culpability for the family's situation in the first place. Sir Walter was a deserving man, an honorable man even, but still she must acknowledge the degree of his excess. Kellynch remained intact, a stalwart of the family's legacy, yet simultaneously, its inflation with the frills of pomp and vanity were the sure sign of a degradation befitting its enduring tenant. Nonetheless, her accommodations at Kellynch Lodge would've been far more inviting than those which she endured at the present moment. Though not too significantly distanced from her orbital family, a feeling of remoteness had embedded itself in her. Her influence, at one time that most sought and revered by not only Anne but so too her father and sisters, now felt relegated to the status of a rather undefined and unnecessary position. Indeed, the object of their arrival seemed of complete disinterest to Anne. What was she looking for which the young Mr. Elliot could not provide? On the terms of his newfound moral redemption, he should be as suitable a match as any. He lacked nothing in terms of wit, charm, or gentility and was certainly not unattractive in any sense. There could not possibly be a better suited match. "In fact," she thought to herself, "even her mother would've done quite well to obtain such a suitor," notwithstanding a proposal from Sir Walter himself of course. Yet, regardless of this, Anne remained steadfast in her disinterest.

Reflecting on the card-party, Lady Russell noted their particular lack of interaction. "Could it be that I have pushed too hard? Might I have led too firmly?" she mused. But no, Anne's avoidance seemed something else entirely. For if it were her intervention which was the issue, surely Anne would have expressed some distaste, taken some distance from her as well. In their conversation Anne had seemed rather curt, but in no sense upset with the Lady. If anything, actually, the latter recognized her as especially iridescent on that occasion. While her conversations were brief, her presence and countenance seemed to inhabit the room with a jubilance that had long been missing. Her smile, her wit, and her elegance captivated the space as an entertainer or spectacle does a crowd in the city. With each conversation, she seemed to grow in herself, a new assurance blossoming apparent yet unbeknownst to the socializers whom she entertained. It left Lady Russell both baffled and pleased. For while she did not understand the impetus for such change, in this moment she witnessed in Anne a light which she had previously only seen in her mother. Years had passed since it had last revealed itself, since it had been capable of manifesting in the first place. Yet here, now, for some reason, here it was plain to see.

Whether a product of love, or perhaps an effort to evince it, mattered not. Anne stood now as resolute as ever, yet somehow in a brighter, more complete sense. Seeing this, Lady Russell now understood that her approach must be one of a more subtle nature. The Elliots had been fortunate in the ease with which Mary accepted and was accepted into married life, but the Lady was all too aware of the old adage: that when any two young people take it into their heads to marry, they are pretty sure by perseverance to carry their point. This meant that her role as advisor here had come to a close. Still the Lady saw in Anne a full culpability for misled affections and a tendency for social impropriety, yet such a change, no, a realization of character deemed her worthy of pursuit in her own right. No, the Lady mustn't directly impose opinion at this point, regardless of her thoughts. Rather, she must take some distance. Too close a proximity might deem her an overbearance and result in a direct betrayal of her persuasion. Yes, better to allow the girl some time, allow her to make her own judgements before they need be corrected. After all, there was no clear indication that these affections were misplaced. Perhaps Anne and the young Mr. Elliot's futures could be reconciled yet!