Fanny's heart sunk, but there was no leisure for thinking long even of Miss Crawford's feelings. They were in the ballroom, the violins were playing, and her mind was in a flutter that forbade its fixing on anything serious. She must watch the general arrangements, and see how everything was done.
In a few minutes Sir Thomas came to her, and asked if she were engaged; and the "Yes, sir; to Mr. Crawford," was exactly what he had intended to hear. Mr. Crawford was not far off; Sir Thomas brought him to her, saying something which discovered to Fanny, that _she_ was to lead the way and open the ball; an idea that had never occurred to her before. Whenever she had thought of the minutiae of the evening, it had been as a matter of course that Edmund would begin with Miss Crawford; and the impression was so strong, that though _her_ _uncle_ spoke the contrary, she could not help an exclamation of surprise, a hint of her unfitness, an entreaty even to be excused. To be urging her opinion against Sir Thomas's was a proof of the extremity of the case; but such was her horror at the first suggestion, that she could actually look him in the face and say that she hoped it might be settled otherwise; in vain, however: Sir Thomas smiled, tried to encourage her, and then looked too serious, and said too decidedly, "It must be so, my dear," for her to hazard another word; and she found herself the next moment conducted by Mr. Crawford to the top of the room, and standing there to be joined by the rest of the dancers, couple after couple, as they were formed.

Fanny's heart sunk, but there was no leisure for thinking long. They were in the ballroom, the violins were playing, and her mind was in a flutter.
Sir Thomas came to her, and asked if she were engaged to dance; and the "Yes, sir; to Mr. Crawford," was exactly what he had intended to hear. He then told Fanny that she was to lead the way and open the ball; an idea that had never occurred to her before. She had assumed that Edmund would begin with Miss Crawford; and she could not help an exclamation of surprise, an entreaty even to be excused. Such was her horror, that she could actually look Sir Thomas in the face and say that she hoped it might be settled otherwise.
In vain, however: Sir Thomas smiled, and said decidedly, "It must be so, my dear"; and she found herself the next moment conducted by Mr. Crawford to the top of the room, and standing there to be joined by the rest of the dancers, couple after couple, as they were formed.
