Music Welcome to snoozecast, the podcast designed to help you fall asleep. Find us at snoozecast.com and wherever you listen to podcasts. If you enjoy our show, please share us with a friend. This episode is brought to you by LodgingSnearTheHotBaths. Tonight we shall read the next part to persuasion, the last novel fully completed by Jane Austen and published in 1817. The story concerns Anne Elliott, an English woman whose family moves in order to lower their expenses by renting their home to an admiral and his wife. In the last episode, concluding chapter 16, Mr. Elliott continues his frequent visit to Camden Place, charming Sir Walter and Elizabeth with his polished manners and apparent desire to reconnect with the family. Lady Russell, once indifferent to him, now views him as a highly suitable match for Anne. Anne however remains cautious. Though she acknowledges Mr. Eliot's attentiveness and refinement, she is not fully at ease with his motives. His flattery feels calculated, and she senses a lack of emotional sincerity.

She compares his composed charm with the deeper, more genuine feeling she won't share with Captain Wentworth. As Mr. Elliott's admiration grows more obvious, Anne has left failing both flattered and wary of his true intentions. Let's get cozy. Close your eyes. Relax your body into the softness of your bed. Now, take a few deep breaths. Chapter 17. While Sir Walter and Elizabeth were assiduously pushing their good fortune in Laura Place, Ann was renewing an acquaintance of a very different description. She'd called on her former governess, and had heard from her of there being an old school fellow in Bath, who had the two strong claims on her attention of past kindness and present suffering. Ms. Hamilton, now Mrs. Smith, had shown her kindness in one of those periods of her life when it had been most valuable, and had gone unhappy to school, grieving for the loss of a mother whom she had dearly loved, feeling her separation from home, and suffering as a girl of fourteen, of strong sensibility, And not high spirits must suffer at such a time. And Miss Hamilton, three years older than herself, but still from the want of near relations and a settled home, remaining another year at school, had been useful and good to her in a way which had considerably lessened her misery and could never be remembered within difference. Ms. Hamilton had left school, had married not long afterwards, was said to have married a man of fortune, and this was all that Anne had known of her. Till now that their governesses account brought her situation forward in a more decided but very different form. She was a widow and poor. Her husband had been extravagant, and at his death about two years before, had left his affairs dreadfully involved. She had had difficulties of every sort to contend with, and in addition to these distresses, had been afflicted with a severe rheumatic fever, which, finally settling in her legs, had made her for the present a cripple. She had come to bath on that account, and was now in lodging near the hot baths, living in a very humble way, unable even to afford herself the comfort of a servant, and of course, almost excluded from society. Their mutual friend answered for the satisfaction which a visit from Miss Elliot would give Mrs. Smith, and Anne therefore lost no time in going. She mentioned nothing of what she had heard, or what she intended at home. It would excite no proper interest there. She only consulted Lady Russell, who entered thoroughly into her sentiments and was most happy to convey her as near to Mrs. Smith's lodgings in Westgate buildings as Anne chose to be taken. The visit was paid, their acquaintance reestablished, their interest in each other more than rekindled, the first ten minutes had its awkwardness and its emotion. Twelve years were gone since they had parted, and each presented a somewhat different person from what the other had imagined. Twelve years had changed Anne from the blooming silent, unformed girl of fifteen, to the elegant little woman of seven and twenty, with every beauty except bloom,

and with manners as consciously right

as they were invariably gentle.

And 12 years had transformed the fine-looking,

well-grown Miss Hamilton

in all the glow of health and confidence of superiority

into a poor, infirm, helpless widow, receiving the visit of her former protege as a favor, but all that was uncomfortable in the meeting had soon passed away and left only the interesting charm of remembering former partialities and talking over old times. Anne found in Mrs. Smith the good sense and agreeable manners which she had almost ventured to depend on, and a disposition to converse and be cheerful beyond her expectation. Neither the dissipations of the past, and she had lived very much in the world, nor the restrictions of the present, neither sickness nor sorrow seemed to have closed her heart, or ruined her spirits. In the course of a second visit, she talked with great openness and Anne's astonishment increased. She could scarcely imagine a more cheerless situation in itself than Mrs. Smith. She had been very fond of her husband. She had buried him.

She had been used to affluence. It was gone. She had no child to connect her with the life and happiness again. No relations to assist in the arrangement of perplexed affairs. No health to make all the rest supportable. accommodations were limited to a noisy parlor and a dark bedroom behind, with no possibility of moving from one to the other without assistance, which there was only one servant in the house to afford, and she never quitted the house but to be conveyed into the warm bath. Yet in spite of all this, Anne had reason to believe that she had moments only of langer and depression, to hours of occupation and and enjoyment. How could it be? She watched, observed, reflected, and finally

to turn. enjoyment? How could it be?" She watched, observed, reflected, and finally determined that this was not a case of fortitude or of resignation only. A submissive spirit might be patient, a strong understanding with supply resolution, but here was something more. Here was that elasticity of mind, that disposition to be comforted, that power of turning readily from evil to good, and of finding employment, which carried her out of herself, which was from nature alone. It was the choice's gift of heaven, and Anne viewed her friend as one of those instances in which, by a merciful appointment, it seems designed to counterbalance almost every other want. There had been a time Mrs. Smith told her when her spirits had nearly failed. She could not call herself an invalid now compared with her state on her first reaching bath. Then she had indeed been a pitiful object,

for she had caught cold on the journey and had hardly taken possession of her lodgings before she was again confined to her bed and suffering under severe and constant pain. and all this among strangers with the absolute necessity of having a regular

nurse. and constant pain. And all this among strangers, with the absolute necessity of having a regular nurse, and finances at that moment, particularly unfit to meet any extraordinary expense. She had weathered it, however, and could truly say that it had done her good, and it increased her comforts by making her feel herself to be in good hands. She had seen too much of the world to expect sudden or disinterested attachment anywhere, but her illness had proved to her that her land lady had a character to preserve and would not use her ill, and she had been particularly fortunate in her nurse as a sister of her landlady, a nurse by profession, and who had always a home in that house when unemployed, chance to be at liberty just in time to attend her. And she, said Mrs. Smith, besides nursing me most admirably, has really proved an invaluable acquaintance. As soon as I could use my hands, she taught me to knit, which has been a great amusement. And she put me in the way of making these little threadcases, pin cushions, and card racks, which you always find me so busy about, in which supply me with the means of doing a little good to one or two very poor families in this neighborhood. She had a large acquaintance, of course, professionally, those who can afford to buy, and she disposes of my merchandise. She always takes the right time for applying. Everybody's heart is open, you know, when they have recently escaped from severe pain, or are recovering the blessing of health, and nurse Rooks thoroughly understands when to speak. She is a shrewd, intelligent, sensible woman. Herse is a line for seeing human nature, and she has a fund of good sense and observation, which, as a companion, makes her infinitely superior to thousands of those who having only received the best education in the world, no nothing worth attending to. Call it gossip, if you will, but when Nurse Rook has half an hour's leisure to bestow on me, she is sure to have something to relate that is entertaining and profitable. Something that makes one know one's species better. One likes to hear what is going on, to be with the newest modes of being trifling and silly, to me who lives so much alone, her conversation, I assure you, is a treat. Anne, far from wishing to caval at the pleasure, replied, I can easily believe it. Women of that class have great opportunities, and if they are intelligent, maybe well worth listening to, such varieties of human nature as they are in the habit of witnessing. And it is not merely in its follies that they are well read, for they see it occasionally under every circumstance that can be most interesting or affecting. What instances must pass before them of ardent, disinterested, self-denying attachment, of heroism, fortitude, patience, resignation, of all the conflicts and all the sacrifices that enable us most. A sick chamber may often furnish the worth of volumes. Yes, said Mrs. Smith, more doubtingly, sometimes it may. The way fear its lessons are not often in the elevated style you describe. Here and there, human nature may be great in times of trial, but generally speaking, it is its weakness and not its strength that appears in a sick chamber. It is selfishness and impatience rather than generosity and fortitude that one hears. There is so little real friendship in the world, and unfortunately, speaking low and tremulously, there are so many who forget to think seriously till it is almost too late. And saw the misery of such feelings, the husband had not been what he ought, and the wife had been led among that part of mankind, which made her think worse of the world than she hoped it deserved. It was but a passing emotion, however, with Mrs. Smith. She shook it off, and soon added, in a different tone,

I do not suppose the situation my friend Mrs. Rook is in at present will furnish much either to interest or edify me. She is only nursing Mrs. Wallace of Marlboro buildings, a mere pretty silly, expensive, fashionable woman, I believe.

And of course, we'll have nothing to report but of lace and finery. I mean to make my profit of Mrs. Wallace, however, she has plenty of money, and I intend she shall buy all the high-priced things I have on hand now. Anne had called several times on her friend before the existence of such a person was known in Camden Place. At last, it became necessary to speak of her. Sir Walter, Elizabeth and Mrs. Clay, returned one morning from Laura Place, with a sudden invitation from Lady Dolrimple for the same evening, and Anne was already engaged to spend that evening in Westgate buildings. She was not sorry for the excuse. They were only asked to assure, because Lady Dalarimple, being kept at home by a bad cold, was glad to make use of the relationship, which had been so pressed on her. And she declined on her own account with great alacrity. She was engaged to spend the evening with an old school fellow. They were not much interested in anything relative to Anne, but still there were questions enough asked to make it understood what this old school fellow was. And Elizabeth was disdainful. And Sir Walter, severe. Skate buildings said he, and who is Miss Anne Elliott to be visiting in Westgate buildings? A Mrs. Smith, a widow Mrs. Smith, and who was her husband? One of 5,000 Mr. Smiths whose names are to be met with everywhere. And what is her attraction? That she is old and sickly. Upon my word, Miss Anne Elliott, you have the most extraordinary taste. Everything that revolts other people, low company, poultry rooms, foul air, disgusting associations are inviting to you. But surely you may put off this old lady till tomorrow. She is not so near her end, I presume, but that she may hope to see another day. And what is her age? Forty? No, sir. She is not one and thirty. But I do not think I can put off my engagement, because it is the only evening for some time, which will at once suit her and myself. She goes into the warm bath tomorrow, and for the rest of the week, you know, we are engaged.

But what does Lady Russell think of this acquaintance? Asked Elizabeth. She sees nothing to blame in it, replied Anne. On the contrary, she approves it, and has generally taken me when I have called on Mrs. Smith. Westgate buildings must have been rather surprised by the appearance of a carriage drawn up near its pavement. Observe Sir Walter. Sir Henry Russell's widow, indeed, has no honors to distinguish her arms. but still it is handsome. And no doubt is well known to convey a mis-eliot, a widow Mrs. Smith lodging in Westgate buildings, a poor widow barely able to live between 30 and 40, a mere Mrs. Smith. And every day Mrs. Smith of of all people and all names in the world, to be the chosen friend of Mrs. Anne Elliott, and to be preferred by her to her own family connections among the nobility of England and Ireland. Mrs. Smith, such a name. Mrs. Clay, who had been present while all this past, now thought it advisable to leave the room, and Anne could have said much and did long to say a little in defense of her friends not very dissimilar claims to theirs, but her sense of personal respect to her father prevented her.

She made no reply. She left it to himself to recollect that Mrs. Smith was not the only widow in Bath between 30 and 40 with little to live on and no surname of dignity. And kept her appointment. The others kept theirs. And of course, she had heard the next morning that they had had a delightful evening. She had been the only one of the set absent for Sir Walter and Elizabeth had not only been quite at her lady service themselves, but had actually been happy to be employed by her in collecting others, and had been at the trouble of inviting both Lady Russell and Mr. Elliott. And Mr. Elliott had made a point of leaving Colonel Wallace early, and Lady Russell had fresh arranged all her evening engagements in order to wait on her, and had the whole history of all that such an evening could supply from Lady Russell. To her, its greatest interest must be, in having been very much talked of between her friend and Mr. Elliot, and having been wished for, regretted, and at the same time honored for staying away in such a cause. Her kind, compassionate visits to this old school fellow, sick and reduced, seemed to have quite delighted Mr. Elliott. He thought her a most extraordinary young woman. In her temper, manners, mind, a model of female excellence, he could meet even Lady Russell in a discussion of her merits, and Anne could not be given to understand so much by her friend could not know herself to be so highly rated by a sensible man without many of those agreeable sensations which her friend meant to create. Lady Russell was now perfectly decided in her opinion of Mr. Elliott. She was as much convinced of his meaning to gain Anne in time as of his deserving her and was beginning to calculate the number of weeks which would free him from all the remaining restraints of widowhood, and leave him at liberty to exert his most open powers of pleasing. She would not speak to Anne with half the certainty she felt on the subject. She would venture on little more than hints of what might be hereafter, of a possible attachment on his side, of the desirableness of the alliance, supposing such attachment to be real and returned, and heard her and made no violent exclamations. She only smiled, blushed, and gently shook her head. I have no matchmaker, as you will know," said Lady Russell. Being much too well aware of the uncertainty of all human events and calculations, I only mean that if Mr. Elliott should sometime hence

pay his addresses to you,

and if you should be disposed to accept him,

I think there would be every possibility

of you're being happy together.

A most suitable connection everybody must consider it,

but I think it might be a very happy one.

...