After waiting another moment—­

“You mean Mr Wentworth, I suppose?” said Anne.

Mr Shepherd was all gratitude.

“Wentworth was the very name!  Mr Wentworth was the very man.  He had the curacy of Monkford, you know, Sir Walter, some time back, for two or three years.  Came there about the year —–­5, I take it.  You remember him, I am sure.”

“Wentworth?  Oh! ay,—­Mr Wentworth, the curate of Monkford.  You misled me by the term gentleman.  I thought you were speaking of some man of property:  Mr Wentworth was nobody, I remember; quite unconnected; nothing to do with the Strafford family.  One wonders how the names of many of our nobility become so common.”

As Mr Shepherd perceived that this connexion of the Crofts did them no service with Sir Walter, he mentioned it no more; returning, with all his zeal, to dwell on the circumstances more indisputably in their favour; their age, and number, and fortune; the high idea they had formed of Kellynch Hall, and extreme solicitude for the advantage of renting it; making it appear as if they ranked nothing beyond the happiness of being the tenants of Sir Walter Elliot:  an extraordinary taste, certainly, could they have been supposed in the secret of Sir Walter’s estimate of the dues of a tenant.

It succeeded, however; and though Sir Walter must ever look with an evil eye on anyone intending to inhabit that house, and think them infinitely too well off in being permitted to rent it on the highest terms, he was talked into allowing Mr Shepherd to proceed in the treaty, and authorising him to wait on Admiral Croft, who still remained at Taunton, and fix a day for the house being seen.

Sir Walter was not very wise; but still he had experience enough of the world to feel, that a more unobjectionable tenant, in all essentials, than Admiral Croft bid fair to be, could hardly offer.  So far went his understanding; and his vanity supplied a little additional soothing, in the Admiral’s situation in life, which was just high enough, and not too high.  “I have let my house to Admiral Croft,” would sound extremely well; very much better than to any mere Mr—­; a Mr (save, perhaps, some half dozen in the nation,) always needs a note of explanation.  An admiral speaks his own consequence, and, at the same time, can never make a baronet look small.  In all their dealings and intercourse, Sir Walter Elliot must ever have the precedence.

Nothing could be done without a reference to Elizabeth:  but her inclination was growing so strong for a removal, that she was happy to have it fixed and expedited by a tenant at hand; and not a word to suspend decision was uttered by her.

Mr Shepherd was completely empowered to act; and no sooner had such an end been reached, than Anne, who had been a most attentive listener to the whole, left the room, to seek the comfort of cool air for her flushed cheeks; and as she walked along a favourite grove, said, with a gentle sigh, “A few months more, and he, perhaps, may be walking here.”