There was one point which Anne, on returning to her family, would have
been more thankful to ascertain even than Mr Elliot's being in love
with Elizabeth, which was, her father's not being in love with Mrs
Clay; and she was very far from easy about it, when she had been at
home a few hours. On going down to breakfast the next morning, she
found there had just been a decent pretence on the lady's side of
meaning to leave them. She could imagine Mrs Clay to have said, that
"now Miss Anne was come, she could not suppose herself at all wanted;"
for Elizabeth was replying in a sort of whisper, "That must not be any
reason, indeed. I assure you I feel it none. She is nothing to me,
compared with you;" and she was in full time to hear her father say,
"My dear madam, this must not be. As yet, you have seen nothing of
Bath. You have been here only to be useful. You must not run away
from us now. You must stay to be acquainted with Mrs Wallis, the
beautiful Mrs Wallis. To your fine mind, I well know the sight of
beauty is a real gratification."

He spoke and looked so much in earnest, that Anne was not surprised to
see Mrs Clay stealing a glance at Elizabeth and herself. Her
countenance, perhaps, might express some watchfulness; but the praise
of the fine mind did not appear to excite a thought in her sister. The
lady could not but yield to such joint entreaties, and promise to stay.