"But were there roses enough to oblige her to go twice?"

"Were there roses enough to oblige her to go twice?"


"No; but they were to be put into the spare room to dry; and, unluckily, Fanny forgot to lock the door of the room and bring away the key, so she was obliged to go again."

"No; but they were to be put into the spare room to dry; and, unluckily, Fanny forgot to lock the room and bring away the key, so she was obliged to go again."


Edmund got up and walked about the room, saying, "And could nobody be employed on such an errand but Fanny?

Edmund got up and walked about, saying, "And could nobody be employed on such an errand but Fanny?


Upon my word, ma'am, it has been a very ill-managed business."

Upon my word, ma'am, it has been very ill-managed."


"I am sure I do not know how it was to have been done better," cried Mrs. Norris, unable to be longer deaf; "unless I had gone myself, indeed; but I cannot be in two places at once; and I was talking to Mr. Green at that very time about your mother's dairymaid, by _her_ desire, and had promised John Groom to write to Mrs. Jefferies about his son, and the poor fellow was waiting for me half an hour.

"I do not know how it was to have been done better," cried Mrs. Norris, "unless I had gone myself; but I cannot be in two places at once; and I was talking to Mr. Green at that very time about your mother's dairymaid.


I think nobody can justly accuse me of sparing myself upon any occasion, but really I cannot do everything at once.


And as for Fanny's just stepping down to my house for me-it is not much above a quarter of a mile-I cannot think I was unreasonable to ask it.

And as for Fanny's just stepping down to my house-it is not much above a quarter of a mile.


How often do I pace it three times a day, early and late, ay, and in all weathers too, and say nothing about it?"

How often do I pace it three times a day, and in all weathers too?"


"I wish Fanny had half your strength, ma'am."


"If Fanny would be more regular in her exercise, she would not be knocked up so soon.


She has not been out on horseback now this long while, and I am persuaded that, when she does not ride, she ought to walk.

She has not been out on horseback this long while, and I am persuaded that, when she does not ride, she ought to walk.


If she had been riding before, I should not have asked it of her.


But I thought it would rather do her good after being stooping among the roses; for there is nothing so refreshing as a walk after a fatigue of that kind; and though the sun was strong, it was not so very hot. Between ourselves, Edmund," nodding significantly at his mother, "it was cutting the roses, and dawdling about in the flower-garden, that did the mischief."

But I thought it would do her good after stooping among the roses; between ourselves, Edmund, it was cutting the roses that did the mischief."


"I am afraid it was, indeed," said the more candid Lady Bertram, who had overheard her; "I am very much afraid she caught the headache there, for the heat was enough to kill anybody.

"I am afraid it was, indeed," said the candid Lady Bertram; "The heat was enough to kill anybody.


Sitting and calling to Pug, and trying to keep him from the flower-beds, was almost too much for me."

Sitting and calling to Pug was almost too much for me."


Edmund said no more to either lady; but going quietly to another table, on which the supper-tray yet remained, brought a glass of Madeira to Fanny, and obliged her to drink the greater part.

Edmund said no more; but going quietly to the supper-tray, brought a glass of Madeira to Fanny, and obliged her to drink.


She wished to be able to decline it; but the tears, which a variety of feelings created, made it easier to swallow than to speak.

She wished to decline it; but her tears made it easier to swallow than to speak.


Vexed as Edmund was with his mother and aunt, he was still more angry with himself.


His own forgetfulness of her was worse than anything which they had done.


Nothing of this would have happened had she been properly considered; but she had been left four days together without any choice of companions or exercise, and without any excuse for avoiding whatever her unreasonable aunts might require.

Fanny had been left without any exercise, and without any excuse for avoiding whatever her unreasonable aunts might require.


He was ashamed to think that for four days together she had not had the power of riding, and very seriously resolved, however unwilling he must be to check a pleasure of Miss Crawford's, that it should never happen again.

He was ashamed to think that for four days she had not been able to ride, and resolved that it should never happen again.


Fanny went to bed with her heart as full as on the first evening of her arrival at the Park.


The state of her spirits had probably had its share in her indisposition; for she had been feeling neglected, and been struggling against discontent and envy for some days past.

She had been struggling against discontent and envy for some days.


As she leant on the sofa, to which she had retreated that she might not be seen, the pain of her mind had been much beyond that in her head; and the sudden change which Edmund's kindness had then occasioned, made her hardly know how to support herself.

As she leant on the sofa, the pain of her mind had been much beyond that in her head; and the sudden change which Edmund's kindness had then occasioned, made her hardly know how to support herself.


Fanny never dines there, you know, in this sort of way.


I cannot spare her, and I am sure she does not want to go.


"If you put such a question to her," cried Edmund, preventing his cousin's speaking, "Fanny will immediately say No; but I am sure, my dear mother, she would like to go; and I can see no reason why she should not."

"If you ask her," cried Edmund, "Fanny will immediately say No; but I am sure, my dear mother, she would like to go."


"I cannot imagine why Mrs. Grant should think of asking her?

"Why should Mrs. Grant think of asking her?


She used to ask your sisters now and then, but she never asked Fanny."


"If you cannot do without me, ma'am-" said Fanny, in a self-denying tone.


"But my mother will have my father with her all the evening."


"Suppose you take my father's opinion, ma'am."


I will ask Sir Thomas, as soon as he comes in, whether I can do without her."


"As you please, ma'am, on that head; but I meant my father's opinion as to the _propriety_ of the invitation's being accepted or not; and I think he will consider it a right thing by Mrs. Grant, as well as by Fanny, that being the _first_ invitation it should be accepted."

"As you please, ma'am; but I meant my father's opinion as to the propriety of the invitation's being accepted; and I think he will consider that it should be."


But he will be very much surprised that Mrs. Grant should ask Fanny at all."


There was nothing more to be said, or that could be said to any purpose, till Sir Thomas were present; but the subject involving, as it did, her own evening's comfort for the morrow, was so much uppermost in Lady Bertram's mind, that half an hour afterwards, on his looking in for a minute in his way from his plantation to his dressing-room, she called him back again, when he had almost closed the door, with "Sir Thomas, stop a moment-I have something to say to you."

Half an hour afterwards, on Sir Thomas's looking in for a minute, Lady Bertram called him back. "Sir Thomas, stop a moment-I have something to say."


Her tone of calm languor, for she never took the trouble of raising her voice, was always heard and attended to; and Sir Thomas came back.

Her tone of calm languor was always attended to; and Sir Thomas came back.


Her story began; and Fanny immediately slipped out of the room; for to hear herself the subject of any discussion with her uncle was more than her nerves could bear.


She was anxious, she knew-more anxious perhaps than she ought to be-for what was it after all whether she went or staid?

She was more anxious perhaps than she ought to be-for what was it after all whether she went or stayed?


but if her uncle were to be a great while considering and deciding, and with very grave looks, and those grave looks directed to her, and at last decide against her, she might not be able to appear properly submissive and indifferent.

but if her uncle were to be a great while considering with grave looks, and at last decide against her, she might not be able to appear properly submissive.


It began, on Lady Bertram's part, with-"I have something to tell you that will surprise you.

Lady Bertram began, "I have something to tell you that will surprise you.


"Well," said Sir Thomas, as if waiting more to accomplish the surprise.


"She will be late," said Sir Thomas, taking out his watch; "but what is your difficulty?"


Edmund found himself obliged to speak and fill up the blanks in his mother's story.


He told the whole; and she had only to add, "So strange!

He told the whole; and she added, "So strange!


"But is it not very natural," observed Edmund, "that Mrs. Grant should wish to procure so agreeable a visitor for her sister?"


"Nothing can be more natural," said Sir Thomas, after a short deliberation; "nor, were there no sister in the case, could anything, in my opinion, be more natural.

"Nothing can be more natural," said Sir Thomas.


Mrs. Grant's shewing civility to Miss Price, to Lady Bertram's niece, could never want explanation.

"Mrs. Grant's showing civility to Lady Bertram's niece could never want explanation.


The only surprise I can feel is, that this should be the _first_ time of its being paid.

The only surprise is, that this should be the first time of its being paid.


Fanny was perfectly right in giving only a conditional answer.

Fanny was perfectly right in giving a conditional answer.


But as I conclude that she must wish to go, since all young people like to be together, I can see no reason why she should be denied the indulgence."

But as I conclude that she must wish to go, since all young people like to be together, I can see no reason why she should be denied."


"She always makes tea, you know, when my sister is not here."


"Your sister, perhaps, may be prevailed on to spend the day with us, and I shall certainly be at home."

"Your sister, perhaps, may be prevailed on to stay with us, and I shall be at home."


"Very well, then, Fanny may go, Edmund."


Edmund knocked at her door in his way to his own.


"Well, Fanny, it is all happily settled, and without the smallest hesitation on your uncle's side.

"Well, Fanny, it is all happily settled.


"Thank you, I am _so_ glad," was Fanny's instinctive reply; though when she had turned from him and shut the door, she could not help feeling, "And yet why should I be glad?

"Thank you, I am so glad," was Fanny's instinctive reply; though when she had shut the door, she could not help feeling, "Yet why should I be glad?


for am I not certain of seeing or hearing something there to pain me?"

for am I not certain of hearing something there to pain me?"


In spite of this conviction, however, she was glad.

In spite of this, however, she was glad.


Simple as such an engagement might appear in other eyes, it had novelty and importance in hers, for excepting the day at Sotherton, she had scarcely ever dined out before; and though now going only half a mile, and only to three people, still it was dining out, and all the little interests of preparation were enjoyments in themselves.

Simple as the engagement might appear in other eyes, it had novelty and importance in hers, for she had scarcely ever dined out before; and though going only half a mile, and only to three people, still it was dining out, and all the little preparations were enjoyments in themselves.


She had neither sympathy nor assistance from those who ought to have entered into her feelings and directed her taste; for Lady Bertram never thought of being useful to anybody, and Mrs. Norris, when she came on the morrow, in consequence of an early call and invitation from Sir Thomas, was in a very ill humour, and seemed intent only on lessening her niece's pleasure, both present and future, as much as possible.

She had no assistance from those who ought to have directed her taste; for Lady Bertram never thought of being useful to anybody, and Mrs. Norris, when she came on the morrow, was in a very ill humour, intent only on lessening her niece's pleasure.


"Upon my word, Fanny, you are in high luck to meet with such attention and indulgence!

"Upon my word, Fanny, you are in high luck!


You ought to be very much obliged to Mrs. Grant for thinking of you, and to your aunt for letting you go, and you ought to look upon it as something extraordinary; for I hope you are aware that there is no real occasion for your going into company in this sort of way, or ever dining out at all; and it is what you must not depend upon ever being repeated.

You ought to be very much obliged to Mrs. Grant for thinking of you, and to your aunt for letting you go; for there is no occasion for your going into company in this way, or ever dining out at all.


Nor must you be fancying that the invitation is meant as any particular compliment to _you_; the compliment is intended to your uncle and aunt and me.

Do not fancy that the invitation is meant as any compliment to you; the compliment is intended to your uncle and aunt and me.


Mrs. Grant thinks it a civility due to _us_ to take a little notice of you, or else it would never have come into her head, and you may be very certain that, if your cousin Julia had been at home, you would not have been asked at all."

Mrs. Grant thinks it a civility due to us, and you may be very certain that, if your cousin Julia had been at home, you would not have been asked at all."


Mrs. Norris had now so ingeniously done away all Mrs. Grant's part of the favour, that Fanny, who found herself expected to speak, could only say that she was very much obliged to her aunt Bertram for sparing her, and that she was endeavouring to put her aunt's evening work in such a state as to prevent her being missed.

Mrs. Norris had now so ingeniously done away all Mrs. Grant's part of the favour, that Fanny could only say that she was very much obliged to her aunt Bertram for sparing her.


depend upon it, your aunt can do very well without you, or you would not be allowed to go.


_I_ shall be here, so you may be quite easy about your aunt.

I shall be here, so you may be quite easy.


And I hope you will have a very _agreeable_ day, and find it all mighty _delightful_.

And I hope you will find it all mighty delightful.


But I must observe that five is the very awkwardest of all possible numbers to sit down to table; and I cannot but be surprised that such an _elegant_ lady as Mrs. Grant should not contrive better!

But I must observe that five is the very awkwardest of all possible numbers to sit down to table; and I am surprised at Mrs. Grant!


And round their enormous great wide table, too, which fills up the room so dreadfully!


Had the doctor been contented to take my dining-table when I came away, as anybody in their senses would have done, instead of having that absurd new one of his own, which is wider, literally wider than the dinner-table here, how infinitely better it would have been!

Had the doctor been content to take my dining-table when I came away, instead of having that absurd new one of his own, how infinitely better it would have been!


and how much more he would have been respected!


for people are never respected when they step out of their proper sphere.


Five-only five to be sitting round that table.

Only five to be sitting round that table.


However, you will have dinner enough on it for ten, I dare say."


Mrs. Norris fetched breath, and went on again.


"The nonsense and folly of people's stepping out of their rank and trying to appear above themselves, makes me think it right to give _you_ a hint, Fanny, now that you are going into company without any of us; and I do beseech and entreat you not to be putting yourself forward, and talking and giving your opinion as if you were one of your cousins-as if you were dear Mrs. Rushworth or Julia.

"I must give you a hint, Fanny, now that you are going into company; do not be putting yourself forward, and talking as if you were one of your cousins-as if you were dear Mrs. Rushworth or Julia.


Remember, wherever you are, you must be the lowest and last; and though Miss Crawford is in a manner at home at the Parsonage, you are not to be taking place of her.

Remember, wherever you are, you must be the lowest and last.


And as to coming away at night, you are to stay just as long as Edmund chuses.

And you are to stay just as long as Edmund chooses.


"Yes, ma'am, I should not think of anything else."


"And if it should rain, which I think exceedingly likely, for I never saw it more threatening for a wet evening in my life, you must manage as well as you can, and not be expecting the carriage to be sent for you.

"And if it should rain, which I think exceedingly likely, you must manage as well as you can, and not be expecting the carriage to be sent for you."


I certainly do not go home to-night, and, therefore, the carriage will not be out on my account; so you must make up your mind to what may happen, and take your things accordingly."


Her niece thought it perfectly reasonable.


She rated her own claims to comfort as low even as Mrs. Norris could; and when Sir Thomas soon afterwards, just opening the door, said, "Fanny, at what time would you have the carriage come round?"

She rated her own claims to comfort as low as Mrs. Norris could; and when Sir Thomas, just opening the door, said, "Fanny, at what time would you have the carriage come round?"


she felt a degree of astonishment which made it impossible for her to speak.


cried Mrs. Norris, red with anger, "Fanny can walk."


repeated Sir Thomas, in a tone of most unanswerable dignity, and coming farther into the room.

repeated Sir Thomas, in a tone of most unanswerable dignity.


"My niece walk to a dinner engagement at this time of the year!


Will twenty minutes after four suit you?"


"Yes, sir," was Fanny's humble answer, given with the feelings almost of a criminal towards Mrs. Norris; and not bearing to remain with her in what might seem a state of triumph, she followed her uncle out of the room, having staid behind him only long enough to hear these words spoken in angry agitation-

"Yes, sir," was Fanny's humble answer, given with the feelings of a criminal towards Mrs. Norris; and as she followed her uncle out of the room, she heard these words spoken in angry agitation-


But Edmund goes; true, it is upon Edmund's account.

But Edmund goes; it is upon Edmund's account."


I observed he was hoarse on Thursday night."


She felt that the carriage was for herself, and herself alone: and her uncle's consideration of her, coming immediately after such representations from her aunt, cost her some tears of gratitude when she was alone.

Fanny, however, felt that the carriage was for herself: and her uncle's consideration cost her some tears of gratitude when she was alone.


The coachman drove round to a minute; another minute brought down the gentleman; and as the lady had, with a most scrupulous fear of being late, been many minutes seated in the drawing-room, Sir Thomas saw them off in as good time as his own correctly punctual habits required.

The coachman drove round promptly; and Sir Thomas saw Fanny and Edmund off in good time.


"Now I must look at you, Fanny," said Edmund, with the kind smile of an affectionate brother, "and tell you how I like you; and as well as I can judge by this light, you look very nicely indeed.

"Now I must look at you, Fanny," said Edmund, with the kind smile of a brother, "and tell you how I like you; and as well as I can judge by this light, you look very nicely indeed.


"The new dress that my uncle was so good as to give me on my cousin's marriage.

"The new dress that my uncle kindly gave me on my cousin's marriage.


I hope it is not too fine; but I thought I ought to wear it as soon as I could, and that I might not have such another opportunity all the winter.

I thought I ought to wear it, as I might not have another opportunity all winter.


"A woman can never be too fine while she is all in white.


No, I see no finery about you; nothing but what is perfectly proper.


Has not Miss Crawford a gown something the same?"


In approaching the Parsonage they passed close by the stable-yard and coach-house.

In approaching the Parsonage they passed close by the stable-yard.


said Edmund, "here's company, here's a carriage!


And letting down the side-glass to distinguish, "'Tis Crawford's, Crawford's barouche, I protest!


There are his own two men pushing it back into its old quarters.


There was no occasion, there was no time for Fanny to say how very differently she felt; but the idea of having such another to observe her was a great increase of the trepidation with which she performed the very awful ceremony of walking into the drawing-room.

There was no occasion for Fanny to say how differently she felt; but the idea of having such another to observe her caused a great increase of the trepidation with which she performed the awful ceremony of walking into the drawing-room.


In the drawing-room Mr. Crawford certainly was, having been just long enough arrived to be ready for dinner; and the smiles and pleased looks of the three others standing round him, shewed how welcome was his sudden resolution of coming to them for a few days on leaving Bath.

In the drawing-room Mr. Crawford certainly was; and the smiles of the three others standing round him, showed how welcome was his sudden resolution of coming to them for a few days on leaving Bath.


A very cordial meeting passed between him and Edmund; and with the exception of Fanny, the pleasure was general; and even to _her_ there might be some advantage in his presence, since every addition to the party must rather forward her favourite indulgence of being suffered to sit silent and unattended to.

A very cordial meeting passed between him and Edmund; and with the exception of Fanny, the pleasure was general.
His presence at least meant that she could sit silent and unattended to.


She was soon aware of this herself; for though she must submit, as her own propriety of mind directed, in spite of her aunt Norris's opinion, to being the principal lady in company, and to all the little distinctions consequent thereon, she found, while they were at table, such a happy flow of conversation prevailing, in which she was not required to take any part-there was so much to be said between the brother and sister about Bath, so much between the two young men about hunting, so much of politics between Mr. Crawford and Dr. Grant, and of everything and all together between Mr. Crawford and Mrs. Grant, as to leave her the fairest prospect of having only to listen in quiet, and of passing a very agreeable day.

Though she must submit to being the principal lady in company, she found, while they were at table, a happy flow of conversation in which she was not required to take any part. There was so much to be said about Bath, and hunting, and politics, and everything else, as to leave her the fairest prospect of having only to listen in quiet, and of passing a very agreeable day.


She could not compliment the newly arrived gentleman, however, with any appearance of interest, in a scheme for extending his stay at Mansfield, and sending for his hunters from Norfolk, which, suggested by Dr. Grant, advised by Edmund, and warmly urged by the two sisters, was soon in possession of his mind, and which he seemed to want to be encouraged even by her to resolve on.

She could not, however, show any eager interest in the gentleman's scheme for extending his stay at Mansfield, and sending for his hunters from Norfolk, which, urged by all the others, was in possession of his mind, and in which he seemed to want encouragement even from Fanny.


Her opinion was sought as to the probable continuance of the open weather, but her answers were as short and indifferent as civility allowed.

Her answers to him were as short and indifferent as civility allowed.


She could not wish him to stay, and would much rather not have him speak to her.

She would much rather not have him speak to her.


Her two absent cousins, especially Maria, were much in her thoughts on seeing him; but no embarrassing remembrance affected _his_ spirits.

Her two absent cousins, especially Maria, were much in her thoughts; but no embarrassing remembrance affected his spirits.


Here he was again on the same ground where all had passed before, and apparently as willing to stay and be happy without the Miss Bertrams, as if he had never known Mansfield in any other state.

He was apparently as willing to stay and be happy without the Miss Bertrams, as if he had never known Mansfield in any other state.


She heard them spoken of by him only in a general way, till they were all re-assembled in the drawing-room, when Edmund, being engaged apart in some matter of business with Dr. Grant, which seemed entirely to engross them, and Mrs. Grant occupied at the tea-table, he began talking of them with more particularity to his other sister.

He spoke of them only in a general way, till they were all re-assembled in the drawing-room, when he began talking of them to Miss Crawford.


With a significant smile, which made Fanny quite hate him, he said, "So!


Rushworth and his fair bride are at Brighton, I understand; happy man!"


"Yes, they have been there about a fortnight, Miss Price, have they not?


"And Mr. Yates, I presume, is not far off."


I do not imagine he figures much in the letters to Mansfield Park; do you, Miss Price?


I think my friend Julia knows better than to entertain her father with Mr. Yates."

I think Julia knows better than to entertain her father with Mr. Yates."


"Poor Rushworth and his two-and-forty speeches!"


Well, I am much mistaken if his lovely Maria will ever want him to make two-and-forty speeches to her"; adding, with a momentary seriousness, "She is too good for him-much too good."


And then changing his tone again to one of gentle gallantry, and addressing Fanny, he said, "You were Mr. Rushworth's best friend.

Then changing again to gentle gallantry, and addressing Fanny, he said, "You were Mr. Rushworth's best friend.


Your kindness and patience can never be forgotten, your indefatigable patience in trying to make it possible for him to learn his part-in trying to give him a brain which nature had denied-to mix up an understanding for him out of the superfluity of your own!

Your kindness and patience to him can never be forgotten.


_He_ might not have sense enough himself to estimate your kindness, but I may venture to say that it had honour from all the rest of the party."

He might not have sense enough himself to value your kindness, but it had honour from all the rest of the party."


he exclaimed, breaking forth again, after a few minutes' musing.

he exclaimed, after a few minutes' musing.


"I shall always look back on our theatricals with exquisite pleasure.


There was such an interest, such an animation, such a spirit diffused.

There was such an interest, such an animation.


There was employment, hope, solicitude, bustle, for every hour of the day.

There was employment, hope, bustle, for every hour of the day.


Always some little objection, some little doubt, some little anxiety to be got over.


With silent indignation Fanny repeated to herself, "Never happier!-never happier than when doing what you must know was not justifiable!-never happier than when behaving so dishonourably and unfeelingly!

With silent indignation Fanny repeated to herself, "Never happier than when behaving so dishonourably and unfeelingly!


"We were unlucky, Miss Price," he continued, in a lower tone, to avoid the possibility of being heard by Edmund, and not at all aware of her feelings, "we certainly were very unlucky.

"We were unlucky, Miss Price," he continued, in a lower tone, not at all aware of her feelings.


Another week, only one other week, would have been enough for us.

"Another week would have been enough for us.


I think if we had had the disposal of events-if Mansfield Park had had the government of the winds just for a week or two, about the equinox, there would have been a difference.

If Mansfield Park had had the government of the winds just for a week or two, there would have been a difference.


Not that we would have endangered his safety by any tremendous weather-but only by a steady contrary wind, or a calm. I think, Miss Price, we would have indulged ourselves with a week's calm in the Atlantic at that season."

Not that we would have endangered his safety by any tremendous weather-but I think, Miss Price, we would have indulged ourselves with a week's calm in the Atlantic."


He seemed determined to be answered; and Fanny, averting her face, said, with a firmer tone than usual, "As far as _I_ am concerned, sir, I would not have delayed his return for a day.

Fanny, averting her face, said, with a firmer tone than usual, "I would not have delayed his return for a day, sir.


My uncle disapproved it all so entirely when he did arrive, that in my opinion everything had gone quite far enough."


She had never spoken so much at once to him in her life before, and never so angrily to any one; and when her speech was over, she trembled and blushed at her own daring.

She had never spoken so much at once to him before, and never so angrily to any one; and she trembled at her own daring.


He was surprised; but after a few moments' silent consideration of her, replied in a calmer, graver tone, and as if the candid result of conviction, "I believe you are right.

He was surprised; but after a few moments' silent consideration of her, replied in a calmer, graver tone, "I believe you are right.


And then turning the conversation, he would have engaged her on some other subject, but her answers were so shy and reluctant that he could not advance in any.

He would have engaged her on some other subject, but her answers were so shy and reluctant that he could not advance in any.


Miss Crawford, who had been repeatedly eyeing Dr. Grant and Edmund, now observed, "Those gentlemen must have some very interesting point to discuss."


"The most interesting in the world," replied her brother-"how to make money; how to turn a good income into a better.

"The most interesting in the world," replied her brother-"how to make money.


Dr. Grant is giving Bertram instructions about the living he is to step into so soon.

Dr. Grant is giving Bertram instructions about the living he is to step into soon.


I am glad to hear Bertram will be so well off.


He will have a very pretty income to make ducks and drakes with, and earned without much trouble. I apprehend he will not have less than seven hundred a year.

He will have a very pretty income, earned without much trouble: seven hundred a year.


Seven hundred a year is a fine thing for a younger brother; and as of course he will still live at home, it will be all for his _menus_ _plaisirs_; and a sermon at Christmas and Easter, I suppose, will be the sum total of sacrifice."

That is a fine thing for a younger brother; and as of course he will still live at home, it will be all for small luxuries; and a sermon at Christmas and Easter, I suppose, will be the sum total of sacrifice."


His sister tried to laugh off her feelings by saying, "Nothing amuses me more than the easy manner with which everybody settles the abundance of those who have a great deal less than themselves.


You would look rather blank, Henry, if your _menus_ _plaisirs_ were to be limited to seven hundred a year."

You would look rather blank, Henry, if your small luxuries were to be limited to seven hundred a year."


"Perhaps I might; but all _that_ you know is entirely comparative. Birthright and habit must settle the business. Bertram is certainly well off for a cadet of even a baronet's family.

"Perhaps; but Bertram is certainly well off for a cadet of a baronet's family.


By the time he is four or five and twenty he will have seven hundred a year, and nothing to do for it."

By the time he is five and twenty he will have seven hundred a year, and nothing to do for it."


Miss Crawford _could_ have said that there would be a something to do and to suffer for it, which she could not think lightly of; but she checked herself and let it pass; and tried to look calm and unconcerned when the two gentlemen shortly afterwards joined them.

Miss Crawford could have said that there would be a something to do for it, which she could not think lightly of; but she let it pass; and tried to look unconcerned when the two gentlemen joined them.


"Bertram," said Henry Crawford, "I shall make a point of coming to Mansfield to hear you preach your first sermon.


I shall come on purpose to encourage a young beginner.


Miss Price, will not you join me in encouraging your cousin?


Will not you engage to attend with your eyes steadily fixed on him the whole time-as I shall do-not to lose a word; or only looking off just to note down any sentence preeminently beautiful?

Will not you fix your eyes steadily on him the whole time-as I shall do-only looking down to note any sentence pre-eminently beautiful?


We will provide ourselves with tablets and a pencil.


You must preach at Mansfield, you know, that Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram may hear you."


"I shall keep clear of you, Crawford, as long as I can," said Edmund; "for you would be more likely to disconcert me, and I should be more sorry to see you trying at it than almost any other man."

"I shall keep clear of you, Crawford, as long as I can," said Edmund; "for you would disconcert me, and I should be more sorry to see you trying at it than almost any other man."


The party being now all united, and the chief talkers attracting each other, she remained in tranquillity; and as a whist-table was formed after tea-formed really for the amusement of Dr. Grant, by his attentive wife, though it was not to be supposed so-and Miss Crawford took her harp, she had nothing to do but to listen; and her tranquillity remained undisturbed the rest of the evening, except when Mr. Crawford now and then addressed to her a question or observation, which she could not avoid answering.

The party being now united, and the chief talkers attracting each other, she remained in tranquillity; and as a whist-table was formed after tea for the amusement of Dr. Grant, and Miss Crawford took her harp, she had nothing to do but to listen. Her tranquillity remained undisturbed the rest of the evening, except when Mr. Crawford now and then addressed to her a question, which she could not avoid answering.


Miss Crawford was too much vexed by what had passed to be in a humour for anything but music.

Miss Crawford was too much vexed to be in a humour for anything but music.


With that she soothed herself and amused her friend.


The assurance of Edmund's being so soon to take orders, coming upon her like a blow that had been suspended, and still hoped uncertain and at a distance, was felt with resentment and mortification.

Edmund's being so soon to take orders had come upon her like a blow; she had hoped it still uncertain, and felt resentment and mortification.


She _had_ begun to think of him; she felt that she had, with great regard, with almost decided intentions; but she would now meet him with his own cool feelings.

She had begun to think of him with great regard, with almost decided intentions; but she would now meet him with his own cool feelings.


It was plain that he could have no serious views, no true attachment, by fixing himself in a situation which he must know she would never stoop to.

It was plain that he could have no true attachment, by fixing himself in a situation which he must know she would never stoop to.


She would learn to match him in his indifference. She would henceforth admit his attentions without any idea beyond immediate amusement.

She would learn to match him in his indifference, and would henceforth admit his attentions without any idea beyond her immediate amusement.


If _he_ could so command his affections, _hers_ should do her no harm.


Tom Bertram had of late spent so little of his time at home that he could be only nominally missed; and Lady Bertram was soon astonished to find how very well they did even without his father, how well Edmund could supply his place in carving, talking to the steward, writing to the attorney, settling with the servants, and equally saving her from all possible fatigue or exertion in every particular but that of directing her letters.

Lady Bertram was soon astonished to find how well they did without Sir Thomas, how well Edmund could supply his place in carving, settling with the servants, and saving her from all possible exertion.


The earliest intelligence of the travellers' safe arrival at Antigua, after a favourable voyage, was received; though not before Mrs. Norris had been indulging in very dreadful fears, and trying to make Edmund participate them whenever she could get him alone; and as she depended on being the first person made acquainted with any fatal catastrophe, she had already arranged the manner of breaking it to all the others, when Sir Thomas's assurances of their both being alive and well made it necessary to lay by her agitation and affectionate preparatory speeches for a while.

News of the travellers' safe arrival at Antigua was received; though not before Mrs. Norris had been indulging in very dreadful fears; and as she depended on being the first person to learn of any catastrophe, she had already arranged the manner of breaking it to all the others, when Sir Thomas's assurances of their being alive and well made it necessary to lay by preparatory speeches for a while.


The winter came and passed without their being called for; the accounts continued perfectly good; and Mrs. Norris, in promoting gaieties for her nieces, assisting their toilets, displaying their accomplishments, and looking about for their future husbands, had so much to do as, in addition to all her own household cares, some interference in those of her sister, and Mrs. Grant's wasteful doings to overlook, left her very little occasion to be occupied in fears for the absent.

The winter passed without their being called for; the accounts continued perfectly good; and Mrs. Norris, in promoting gaieties for her nieces, displaying their accomplishments, and looking about for their future husbands, had very little time to fear for the absent.


The Miss Bertrams were now fully established among the belles of the neighbourhood; and as they joined to beauty and brilliant acquirements a manner naturally easy, and carefully formed to general civility and obligingness, they possessed its favour as well as its admiration.

The Miss Bertrams were now fully established among the neighbourhood's belles; and as they joined to beauty and brilliant acquirements a manner naturally easy and civil, they gained favour as well as admiration.


Their vanity was in such good order that they seemed to be quite free from it, and gave themselves no airs; while the praises attending such behaviour, secured and brought round by their aunt, served to strengthen them in believing they had no faults.

Their vanity was in such good order that they seemed to be quite free from it, and gave themselves no airs; while the praises secured and brought round by their aunt strengthened them in believing they had no faults.


Lady Bertram did not go into public with her daughters. She was too indolent even to accept a mother's gratification in witnessing their success and enjoyment at the expense of any personal trouble, and the charge was made over to her sister, who desired nothing better than a post of such honourable representation, and very thoroughly relished the means it afforded her of mixing in society without having horses to hire.

Lady Bertram was too indolent to go into public with her daughters. The charge was made over to her sister, who thoroughly relished the means it afforded her of mixing in society without having horses to hire.


Fanny had no share in the festivities of the season; but she enjoyed being avowedly useful as her aunt's companion when they called away the rest of the family; and, as Miss Lee had left Mansfield, she naturally became everything to Lady Bertram during the night of a ball or a party.

Fanny had no share in the season's festivities; but she enjoyed being useful as her aunt's companion; and, as Miss Lee had left Mansfield, she naturally became everything to Lady Bertram during the night of a party.


She talked to her, listened to her, read to her; and the tranquillity of such evenings, her perfect security in such a _tte--tte_ from any sound of unkindness, was unspeakably welcome to a mind which had seldom known a pause in its alarms or embarrassments.

She talked to her, listened to her, read to her; and the tranquillity of such evenings was unspeakably welcome to her mind.


As to her cousins' gaieties, she loved to hear an account of them, especially of the balls, and whom Edmund had danced with; but thought too lowly of her own situation to imagine she should ever be admitted to the same, and listened, therefore, without an idea of any nearer concern in them.

As to her cousins' gaieties, she loved to hear an account of them, especially of the balls, and whom Edmund had danced with; but never imagined she should ever be admitted to the same.


Upon the whole, it was a comfortable winter to her; for though it brought no William to England, the never-failing hope of his arrival was worth much.

It was a comfortable winter to her; for though it brought no William to England, the never-failing hope of his arrival was worth much.


The ensuing spring deprived her of her valued friend, the old grey pony; and for some time she was in danger of feeling the loss in her health as well as in her affections; for in spite of the acknowledged importance of her riding on horse-back, no measures were taken for mounting her again, "because," as it was observed by her aunts, "she might ride one of her cousin's horses at any time when they did not want them," and as the Miss Bertrams regularly wanted their horses every fine day, and had no idea of carrying their obliging manners to the sacrifice of any real pleasure, that time, of course, never came.

The spring deprived her of her friend, the old grey pony; and she was in danger of feeling the loss in her health as well as in her affections; for despite the acknowledged importance of her riding, no measures were taken for mounting her again, "because," as her aunts observed, "she might ride her cousins' horses at any time when they did not want them." As the Miss Bertrams wanted their horses every fine day, and had no idea of sacrificing any real pleasure, that time never came.


They took their cheerful rides in the fine mornings of April and May; and Fanny either sat at home the whole day with one aunt, or walked beyond her strength at the instigation of the other: Lady Bertram holding exercise to be as unnecessary for everybody as it was unpleasant to herself; and Mrs. Norris, who was walking all day, thinking everybody ought to walk as much.

They took their cheerful rides in the fine mornings of April and May; and Fanny either sat at home all day with one aunt, or walked beyond her strength at the instigation of the other: Lady Bertram holding exercise to be unnecessary; and Mrs. Norris thinking everybody ought to walk all day, as she did.


Edmund was absent at this time, or the evil would have been earlier remedied. When he returned, to understand how Fanny was situated, and perceived its ill effects, there seemed with him but one thing to be done; and that "Fanny must have a horse" was the resolute declaration with which he opposed whatever could be urged by the supineness of his mother, or the economy of his aunt, to make it appear unimportant.

Edmund was absent; but when he returned and saw how Fanny was affected, "Fanny must have a horse" was his resolute declaration.


Mrs. Norris could not help thinking that some steady old thing might be found among the numbers belonging to the Park that would do vastly well; or that one might be borrowed of the steward; or that perhaps Dr. Grant might now and then lend them the pony he sent to the post.

Mrs. Norris thought some steady old thing might be found at the Park that would do.


She could not but consider it as absolutely unnecessary, and even improper, that Fanny should have a regular lady's horse of her own, in the style of her cousins.

She considered it as unnecessary, and even improper, that Fanny should have a lady's horse of her own, in the style of her cousins.


She was sure Sir Thomas had never intended it: and she must say that, to be making such a purchase in his absence, and adding to the great expenses of his stable, at a time when a large part of his income was unsettled, seemed to her very unjustifiable.

She was sure Sir Thomas had never intended it: and to be adding to the great expenses of his stable, at a time when his income was unsettled, seemed to her unjustifiable.


"Fanny must have a horse," was Edmund's only reply.


Mrs. Norris could not see it in the same light.


Lady Bertram did: she entirely agreed with her son as to the necessity of it, and as to its being considered necessary by his father; she only pleaded against there being any hurry; she only wanted him to wait till Sir Thomas's return, and then Sir Thomas might settle it all himself.

Lady Bertram agreed with her son; she only wanted him to wait till Sir Thomas's return, and then Sir Thomas might settle it himself.


He would be at home in September, and where would be the harm of only waiting till September?

He would be at home in September, and where would be the harm of waiting till then?


Though Edmund was much more displeased with his aunt than with his mother, as evincing least regard for her niece, he could not help paying more attention to what she said; and at length determined on a method of proceeding which would obviate the risk of his father's thinking he had done too much, and at the same time procure for Fanny the immediate means of exercise, which he could not bear she should be without.

Edmund determined on a method of proceeding which would not cost too much.


He had three horses of his own, but not one that would carry a woman.


Two of them were hunters; the third, a useful road-horse: this third he resolved to exchange for one that his cousin might ride; he knew where such a one was to be met with; and having once made up his mind, the whole business was soon completed.

Two of them were hunters; the third, a useful road-horse: this third he exchanged for one that his cousin might ride. The whole business was soon completed.


The new mare proved a treasure; with a very little trouble she became exactly calculated for the purpose, and Fanny was then put in almost full possession of her.

The new mare proved a treasure; and Fanny was put in possession of her.


She had not supposed before that anything could ever suit her like the old grey pony; but her delight in Edmund's mare was far beyond any former pleasure of the sort; and the addition it was ever receiving in the consideration of that kindness from which her pleasure sprung, was beyond all her words to express.

She had not supposed that anything could suit her like the old grey pony; but her delight in Edmund's mare was far beyond her former pleasure; and her appreciation of his kindness was beyond words.


She regarded her cousin as an example of everything good and great, as possessing worth which no one but herself could ever appreciate, and as entitled to such gratitude from her as no feelings could be strong enough to pay.

She regarded her cousin as an example of everything good and great, entitled to more gratitude than she could ever pay him.


Her sentiments towards him were compounded of all that was respectful, grateful, confiding, and tender.

Her feelings towards him were all that was respectful, grateful, confiding, and tender.


As the horse continued in name, as well as fact, the property of Edmund, Mrs. Norris could tolerate its being for Fanny's use; and had Lady Bertram ever thought about her own objection again, he might have been excused in her eyes for not waiting till Sir Thomas's return in September, for when September came Sir Thomas was still abroad, and without any near prospect of finishing his business.

As the horse continued to be Edmund's property, Mrs. Norris could tolerate its being for Fanny's use; and had Lady Bertram ever thought about the matter, she might have excused Edmund for not waiting till Sir Thomas's return, for when September came Sir Thomas was still abroad.


Unfavourable circumstances had suddenly arisen at a moment when he was beginning to turn all his thoughts towards England; and the very great uncertainty in which everything was then involved determined him on sending home his son, and waiting the final arrangement by himself.

Unfavourable circumstances had suddenly arisen; and the great uncertainty of his affairs determined him on sending home his son, and staying on by himself.


Tom arrived safely, bringing an excellent account of his father's health; but to very little purpose, as far as Mrs. Norris was concerned. Sir Thomas's sending away his son seemed to her so like a parent's care, under the influence of a foreboding of evil to himself, that she could not help feeling dreadful presentiments; and as the long evenings of autumn came on, was so terribly haunted by these ideas, in the sad solitariness of her cottage, as to be obliged to take daily refuge in the dining-room of the Park.

Tom arrived safely, bringing an excellent account of his father's health; but Mrs. Norris could not help feeling dreadful presentiments; and as the long autumn evenings came on, was so terribly haunted by these ideas, in the sad solitariness of her cottage, as to be obliged to take daily refuge in the dining-room of the Park.


The return of winter engagements, however, was not without its effect; and in the course of their progress, her mind became so pleasantly occupied in superintending the fortunes of her eldest niece, as tolerably to quiet her nerves.

The return of winter engagements, however, was not without effect; her mind became pleasantly occupied in superintending the fortunes of her eldest niece.


"If poor Sir Thomas were fated never to return, it would be peculiarly consoling to see their dear Maria well married," she very often thought; always when they were in the company of men of fortune, and particularly on the introduction of a young man who had recently succeeded to one of the largest estates and finest places in the country.

"If poor Sir Thomas were never to return, it would be consoling to see dear Maria well married," she often thought; always when they were in the company of men of fortune, particularly one young man who had recently succeeded to one of the largest estates in the country.


Mr. Rushworth was from the first struck with the beauty of Miss Bertram, and, being inclined to marry, soon fancied himself in love.

Mr. Rushworth was struck with the beauty of Miss Bertram, and, being inclined to marry, soon fancied himself in love.


He was a heavy young man, with not more than common sense; but as there was nothing disagreeable in his figure or address, the young lady was well pleased with her conquest.

He was a heavy young man, with not more than common sense; but as there was nothing disagreeable in his address, the young lady was well pleased with her conquest.


Being now in her twenty-first year, Maria Bertram was beginning to think matrimony a duty; and as a marriage with Mr. Rushworth would give her the enjoyment of a larger income than her father's, as well as ensure her the house in town, which was now a prime object, it became, by the same rule of moral obligation, her evident duty to marry Mr. Rushworth if she could.

Being now in her twenty-first year, Maria Bertram was beginning to think that she ought to marry; and as marriage with Mr. Rushworth would give her the enjoyment of a larger income than her father's, as well as a house in town, it became her evident duty to marry Mr. Rushworth if she could.


Mrs. Norris was most zealous in promoting the match, by every suggestion and contrivance likely to enhance its desirableness to either party; and, among other means, by seeking an intimacy with the gentleman's mother, who at present lived with him, and to whom she even forced Lady Bertram to go through ten miles of indifferent road to pay a morning visit.

Mrs. Norris was zealous in promoting the match by every contrivance, and by seeking an intimacy with the gentleman's mother.


It was not long before a good understanding took place between this lady and herself.


Mrs. Rushworth acknowledged herself very desirous that her son should marry, and declared that of all the young ladies she had ever seen, Miss Bertram seemed, by her amiable qualities and accomplishments, the best adapted to make him happy.

Mrs. Rushworth desired that her son should marry, and declared that of all the young ladies she had seen, Miss Bertram seemed the best adapted to make him happy.


Mrs. Norris accepted the compliment, and admired the nice discernment of character which could so well distinguish merit.


Maria was indeed the pride and delight of them all-perfectly faultless-an angel; and, of course, so surrounded by admirers, must be difficult in her choice: but yet, as far as Mrs. Norris could allow herself to decide on so short an acquaintance, Mr. Rushworth appeared precisely the young man to deserve and attach her.

Maria was indeed the pride and delight of them all-perfectly faultless-an angel; and, of course, surrounded by admirers: yet Mr. Rushworth appeared precisely the young man to attach her.


After dancing with each other at a proper number of balls, the young people justified these opinions, and an engagement, with a due reference to the absent Sir Thomas, was entered into, much to the satisfaction of their respective families, and of the general lookers-on of the neighbourhood, who had, for many weeks past, felt the expediency of Mr. Rushworth's marrying Miss Bertram.

After dancing with each other at a proper number of balls, the young people entered into an engagement, much to the satisfaction of their families, and of the general lookers-on of the neighbourhood.


It was some months before Sir Thomas's consent could be received; but, in the meanwhile, as no one felt a doubt of his most cordial pleasure in the connexion, the intercourse of the two families was carried on without restraint, and no other attempt made at secrecy than Mrs. Norris's talking of it everywhere as a matter not to be talked of at present.

It was some months before Sir Thomas's consent could be received; but as no one doubted his pleasure, the two families met without restraint, and with no other attempt made at secrecy than Mrs. Norris's talking of it everywhere as a matter not to be talked of at present.


Edmund was the only one of the family who could see a fault in the business; but no representation of his aunt's could induce him to find Mr. Rushworth a desirable companion.

Edmund was the only one who could see a fault in the business; he could not find Mr. Rushworth a desirable companion.


He could allow his sister to be the best judge of her own happiness, but he was not pleased that her happiness should centre in a large income; nor could he refrain from often saying to himself, in Mr. Rushworth's company-"If this man had not twelve thousand a year, he would be a very stupid fellow."

He allowed his sister to be the best judge of her own happiness, but he was not pleased that her happiness should centre in a large income; nor could he refrain from often saying to himself, when he was in Mr. Rushworth's company-"If this man had not twelve thousand a year, he would be a very stupid fellow."


Sir Thomas, however, was truly happy in the prospect of an alliance so unquestionably advantageous, and of which he heard nothing but the perfectly good and agreeable.

Sir Thomas, however, was truly happy in the prospect of an alliance so advantageous.


It was a connexion exactly of the right sort-in the same county, and the same interest-and his most hearty concurrence was conveyed as soon as possible.

His hearty concurrence was conveyed as soon as possible.


He only conditioned that the marriage should not take place before his return, which he was again looking eagerly forward to.

He only asked that the marriage should not take place before his return.


He wrote in April, and had strong hopes of settling everything to his entire satisfaction, and leaving Antigua before the end of the summer.

He wrote in April, and had strong hopes of settling everything to his satisfaction, and leaving Antigua before the end of the summer.


Such was the state of affairs in the month of July; and Fanny had just reached her eighteenth year, when the society of the village received an addition in the brother and sister of Mrs. Grant, a Mr. and Miss Crawford, the children of her mother by a second marriage.

Such was the state of affairs in July; and Fanny had just reached her eighteenth year, when the village received an addition in the brother and sister of Mrs. Grant, a Mr. and Miss Crawford, the children of her mother by a second marriage.


The son had a good estate in Norfolk, the daughter twenty thousand pounds.


As children, their sister had been always very fond of them; but, as her own marriage had been soon followed by the death of their common parent, which left them to the care of a brother of their father, of whom Mrs. Grant knew nothing, she had scarcely seen them since.

As Mrs Grant's own marriage had been soon followed by the death of their common parent, she had scarcely seen them since.


In their uncle's house they had found a kind home.


Admiral and Mrs. Crawford, though agreeing in nothing else, were united in affection for these children, or, at least, were no farther adverse in their feelings than that each had their favourite, to whom they showed the greatest fondness of the two.

Admiral and Mrs. Crawford, though agreeing in nothing else, were united in affection for these children.


The Admiral delighted in the boy, Mrs. Crawford doted on the girl; and it was the lady's death which now obliged her _protegee_, after some months' further trial at her uncle's house, to find another home.

The Admiral delighted in the boy, Mrs. Crawford doted on the girl; and it was the lady's death which now obliged her protge to find another home.


Admiral Crawford was a man of vicious conduct, who chose, instead of retaining his niece, to bring his mistress under his own roof; and to this Mrs. Grant was indebted for her sister's proposal of coming to her, a measure quite as welcome on one side as it could be expedient on the other; for Mrs. Grant, having by this time run through the usual resources of ladies residing in the country without a family of children-having more than filled her favourite sitting-room with pretty furniture, and made a choice collection of plants and poultry-was very much in want of some variety at home.

Admiral Crawford was a man of vicious conduct, who chose to bring his mistress under his own roof; and Mrs. Grant's sister proposed to come to her, a measure welcome on both sides; for Mrs. Grant was in want of some variety at home.


The arrival, therefore, of a sister whom she had always loved, and now hoped to retain with her as long as she remained single, was highly agreeable; and her chief anxiety was lest Mansfield should not satisfy the habits of a young woman who had been mostly used to London.

The arrival, therefore, of a beloved sister was highly agreeable; and her chief anxiety was lest Mansfield should not satisfy a young woman who was used to London.


Miss Crawford was not entirely free from similar apprehensions, though they arose principally from doubts of her sister's style of living and tone of society; and it was not till after she had tried in vain to persuade her brother to settle with her at his own country house, that she could resolve to hazard herself among her other relations.

Miss Crawford was not entirely free from similar apprehensions; and it was not till after she had tried in vain to persuade her brother to settle with her at his own country house, that she resolved to try her other relations.


To anything like a permanence of abode, or limitation of society, Henry Crawford had, unluckily, a great dislike: he could not accommodate his sister in an article of such importance; but he escorted her, with the utmost kindness, into Northamptonshire, and as readily engaged to fetch her away again, at half an hour's notice, whenever she were weary of the place.

Henry Crawford had a great dislike of settling in one place; but he kindly escorted his sister into Northamptonshire, and as readily engaged to fetch her away again, at half an hour's notice, whenever she might be weary of it.


The meeting was very satisfactory on each side.


Miss Crawford found a sister without preciseness or rusticity, a sister's husband who looked the gentleman, and a house commodious and well fitted up; and Mrs. Grant received in those whom she hoped to love better than ever a young man and woman of very prepossessing appearance.

Miss Crawford found a sister with refinement, a sister's husband who looked the gentleman, and a house commodious and well fitted up; and Mrs. Grant received a young man and woman of very prepossessing appearance.


Mary Crawford was remarkably pretty; Henry, though not handsome, had air and countenance; the manners of both were lively and pleasant, and Mrs. Grant immediately gave them credit for everything else.


She was delighted with each, but Mary was her dearest object; and having never been able to glory in beauty of her own, she thoroughly enjoyed the power of being proud of her sister's.

She was delighted with each, but Mary was her dearest object; and having never been able to glory in beauty of her own, she thoroughly enjoyed being proud of her sister's.


She had not waited her arrival to look out for a suitable match for her: she had fixed on Tom Bertram; the eldest son of a baronet was not too good for a girl of twenty thousand pounds, with all the elegance and accomplishments which Mrs. Grant foresaw in her; and being a warm-hearted, unreserved woman, Mary had not been three hours in the house before she told her what she had planned.

She had already looked out for a suitable match for her: she had fixed on Tom Bertram; the eldest son of a baronet was not too good for a girl of twenty thousand pounds with elegance and accomplishments; and since she was a warm-hearted, unreserved woman, Mary had not been three hours in the house before she told her what she had planned.


Miss Crawford was glad to find a family of such consequence so very near them, and not at all displeased either at her sister's early care, or the choice it had fallen on.

Miss Crawford was glad to find a family of consequence so near them, and not at all displeased at her sister's choice.


Matrimony was her object, provided she could marry well: and having seen Mr. Bertram in town, she knew that objection could no more be made to his person than to his situation in life.

Matrimony was her object, provided she could marry well: and having seen Mr. Bertram in town, she knew that no objection could be made to his person.


While she treated it as a joke, therefore, she did not forget to think of it seriously.

While she treated it as a joke, she did not forget to think of it seriously.


"And now," added Mrs. Grant, "I have thought of something to make it complete.


I should dearly love to settle you both in this country; and therefore, Henry, you shall marry the youngest Miss Bertram, a nice, handsome, good-humoured, accomplished girl, who will make you very happy."

I should dearly love to settle you both here; and therefore, Henry, you shall marry the youngest Miss Bertram, a nice, handsome, good-humoured girl, who will make you very happy."


"My dear sister," said Mary, "if you can persuade him into anything of the sort, it will be a fresh matter of delight to me to find myself allied to anybody so clever, and I shall only regret that you have not half a dozen daughters to dispose of.

"My dear sister," said Mary, "if you can persuade him into anything of the sort, I shall be delighted.


If you can persuade Henry to marry, you must have the address of a Frenchwoman.


All that English abilities can do has been tried already.


I have three very particular friends who have been all dying for him in their turn; and the pains which they, their mothers (very clever women), as well as my dear aunt and myself, have taken to reason, coax, or trick him into marrying, is inconceivable!

I have three friends who have been all dying for him in their turn; and the pains which they, their mothers, my dear aunt and myself, have taken to reason, coax, or trick him into marrying, is inconceivable!


He is the most horrible flirt that can be imagined.


If your Miss Bertrams do not like to have their hearts broke, let them avoid Henry."


"My dear brother, I will not believe this of you."

"My dear brother, I will not believe this."


"No, I am sure you are too good. You will be kinder than Mary.

"No, I am sure you will be kinder than Mary.


You will allow for the doubts of youth and inexperience.


I am of a cautious temper, and unwilling to risk my happiness in a hurry.

I am cautious, and unwilling to risk my happiness in a hurry.


Nobody can think more highly of the matrimonial state than myself.

Nobody can think more highly of matrimony than myself.


I consider the blessing of a wife as most justly described in those discreet lines of the poet-'Heaven's _last_ best gift.'"

I consider the blessing of a wife as most justly described by the poet-'Heaven's last best gift.'"


"There, Mrs. Grant, you see how he dwells on one word, and only look at his smile.


I assure you he is very detestable; the Admiral's lessons have quite spoiled him."

I assure you he is detestable; the Admiral's lessons have quite spoiled him."


"I pay very little regard," said Mrs. Grant, "to what any young person says on the subject of marriage.

"I pay very little regard," said Mrs. Grant, "to what any young person says about marriage.


If they profess a disinclination for it, I only set it down that they have not yet seen the right person."

If they profess a disinclination for it, I know that they have not yet seen the right person."


Dr. Grant laughingly congratulated Miss Crawford on feeling no disinclination to the state herself.


I would have everybody marry if they can do it properly: I do not like to have people throw themselves away; but everybody should marry as soon as they can do it to advantage."

I would have everybody marry if they can do it to advantage."


Edmund now believed himself perfectly acquainted with all that Fanny could tell, or could leave to be conjectured of her sentiments, and he was satisfied.

Edmund now believed himself perfectly acquainted with all that Fanny could tell, and he was satisfied.


It had been, as he before presumed, too hasty a measure on Crawford's side, and time must be given to make the idea first familiar, and then agreeable to her.


She must be used to the consideration of his being in love with her, and then a return of affection might not be very distant.

Once she was used to the idea of his being in love with her, a return of affection might not be very distant.


He gave this opinion as the result of the conversation to his father; and recommended there being nothing more said to her: no farther attempts to influence or persuade; but that everything should be left to Crawford's assiduities, and the natural workings of her own mind.

He gave this opinion to his father; and recommended that nothing more be said to her: but that everything should be left to Crawford's diligence, and the natural workings of her own mind.


Sir Thomas promised that it should be so.


Edmund's account of Fanny's disposition he could believe to be just; he supposed she had all those feelings, but he must consider it as very unfortunate that she _had_; for, less willing than his son to trust to the future, he could not help fearing that if such very long allowances of time and habit were necessary for her, she might not have persuaded herself into receiving his addresses properly before the young man's inclination for paying them were over.

He believed Edmund's account of Fanny's nature to be just, but he considered it as unfortunate; for he could not help fearing that if such very long allowances of time were necessary for her, she might not have persuaded herself into receiving his addresses before the young man's inclination for paying them were over.


There was nothing to be done, however, but to submit quietly and hope the best.

There was nothing to be done, however, but to submit and hope for the best.


The promised visit from "her friend," as Edmund called Miss Crawford, was a formidable threat to Fanny, and she lived in continual terror of it.

The promised visit from "her friend," as Edmund called Miss Crawford, was a formidable threat to Fanny.


As a sister, so partial and so angry, and so little scrupulous of what she said, and in another light so triumphant and secure, she was in every way an object of painful alarm.

As a sister, so partial and so angry, and so little scrupulous of what she said, she was an object of painful alarm.


Her displeasure, her penetration, and her happiness were all fearful to encounter; and the dependence of having others present when they met was Fanny's only support in looking forward to it.

The dependence of having others present when they met was Fanny's only support in looking forward to it.


She absented herself as little as possible from Lady Bertram, kept away from the East room, and took no solitary walk in the shrubbery, in her caution to avoid any sudden attack.


She was safe in the breakfast-room, with her aunt, when Miss Crawford did come; and the first misery over, and Miss Crawford looking and speaking with much less particularity of expression than she had anticipated, Fanny began to hope there would be nothing worse to be endured than a half-hour of moderate agitation.

She was safe in the breakfast-room, with her aunt, when Miss Crawford did come; and Fanny hoped there would be nothing worse to be endured than a half-hour of moderate agitation.


But here she hoped too much; Miss Crawford was not the slave of opportunity. She was determined to see Fanny alone, and therefore said to her tolerably soon, in a low voice, "I must speak to you for a few minutes somewhere"; words that Fanny felt all over her, in all her pulses and all her nerves.

But here she hoped too much; Miss Crawford was determined to see Fanny alone, and said to her, in a low voice, "I must speak to you for a few minutes somewhere"; words that Fanny felt all over her.


Her habits of ready submission, on the contrary, made her almost instantly rise and lead the way out of the room.

Her habits of ready submission, on the contrary, made her instantly rise and lead the way out of the room.


She did it with wretched feelings, but it was inevitable.


They were no sooner in the hall than all restraint of countenance was over on Miss Crawford's side. She immediately shook her head at Fanny with arch, yet affectionate reproach, and taking her hand, seemed hardly able to help beginning directly. She said nothing, however, but, "Sad, sad girl!

They were no sooner in the hall than Miss Crawford shook her head at Fanny with arch, yet affectionate reproach, and took her hand: she said nothing, however, but, "Sad, sad girl!


I do not know when I shall have done scolding you," and had discretion enough to reserve the rest till they might be secure of having four walls to themselves.

I do not know when I shall have done scolding you."


Fanny naturally turned upstairs, and took her guest to the apartment which was now always fit for comfortable use; opening the door, however, with a most aching heart, and feeling that she had a more distressing scene before her than ever that spot had yet witnessed.

Fanny turned upstairs, and took her guest to the East Room, opening the door, however, with a most aching heart, and feeling that she had a distressing scene before her.


But the evil ready to burst on her was at least delayed by the sudden change in Miss Crawford's ideas; by the strong effect on her mind which the finding herself in the East room again produced.

But the evil was delayed by the sudden change in Miss Crawford's ideas; by the strong effect on her mind which the finding herself in the East room again produced.


she cried, with instant animation, "am I here again?


Once only was I in this room before"; and after stopping to look about her, and seemingly to retrace all that had then passed, she added, "Once only before. Do you remember it?

Once only was I in this room before"; and after stopping to look about her, "Do you remember it?


Your cousin came too; and we had a rehearsal. You were our audience and prompter.

Your cousin came too; and you were our audience and prompter.


Here we were, just in this part of the room: here was your cousin, here was I, here were the chairs.


Happily for her companion, she wanted no answer.


Her mind was entirely self-engrossed. She was in a reverie of sweet remembrances.

Her mind was entirely self-engrossed, in a reverie of sweet remembrances.


"The scene we were rehearsing was so very remarkable!


The subject of it so very-very-what shall I say?


He was to be describing and recommending matrimony to me. I think I see him now, trying to be as demure and composed as Anhalt ought, through the two long speeches.

He was recommending matrimony to me, trying to be as demure and composed as Anhalt ought, through the two long speeches.


'When two sympathetic hearts meet in the marriage state, matrimony may be called a happy life.'


I suppose no time can ever wear out the impression I have of his looks and voice as he said those words.

I can never forget his looks and voice as he said those words.


It was curious, very curious, that we should have such a scene to play!


If I had the power of recalling any one week of my existence, it should be that week-that acting week. Say what you would, Fanny, it should be _that_; for I never knew such exquisite happiness in any other.

If I could relive any one week of my existence, it should be that week; for I never knew such exquisite happiness in any other.


But alas, that very evening destroyed it all. That very evening brought your most unwelcome uncle.

But alas, that very evening destroyed it all, and brought your most unwelcome uncle.


Poor Sir Thomas, who was glad to see you?


Yet, Fanny, do not imagine I would now speak disrespectfully of Sir Thomas, though I certainly did hate him for many a week.


He is just what the head of such a family should be.


Nay, in sober sadness, I believe I now love you all."


And having said so, with a degree of tenderness and consciousness which Fanny had never seen in her before, and now thought only too becoming, she turned away for a moment to recover herself.

And with a degree of tenderness and consciousness which Fanny had never seen in her before, and now thought only too becoming, she turned away for a moment to recover herself.


"I have had a little fit since I came into this room, as you may perceive," said she presently, with a playful smile, "but it is over now; so let us sit down and be comfortable; for as to scolding you, Fanny, which I came fully intending to do, I have not the heart for it when it comes to the point."

"I have had a little fit since I came into this room, as you may perceive," said she presently, with a playful smile, "but it is over; so let us sit down and be comfortable; for as to scolding you, Fanny, I have not the heart for it when it comes to the point."


And embracing her very affectionately, "Good, gentle Fanny!

And embracing her affectionately, "Good, gentle Fanny!


when I think of this being the last time of seeing you for I do not know how long, I feel it quite impossible to do anything but love you."


She had not foreseen anything of this, and her feelings could seldom withstand the melancholy influence of the word "last."

Fanny had not foreseen this, and her feelings could seldom withstand the melancholy influence of the word "last."


She cried as if she had loved Miss Crawford more than she possibly could; and Miss Crawford, yet farther softened by the sight of such emotion, hung about her with fondness, and said, "I hate to leave you.

She cried as if she had loved Miss Crawford more than she possibly could; and Miss Crawford, farther softened by the sight of such emotion, said, "I hate to leave you.


I shall see no one half so amiable where I am going.


I feel that we are born to be connected; and those tears convince me that you feel it too, dear Fanny."


Fanny roused herself, and replying only in part, said, "But you are only going from one set of friends to another. You are going to a very particular friend."

Fanny roused herself, and said, "But you are going to a very particular friend."


Mrs. Fraser has been my intimate friend for years.


But I have not the least inclination to go near her.


I can think only of the friends I am leaving: my excellent sister, yourself, and the Bertrams in general.

I can think only of the friends I am leaving.


You have all so much more _heart_ among you than one finds in the world at large.

You have all so much more heart among you than one finds in the world at large.


You all give me a feeling of being able to trust and confide in you, which in common intercourse one knows nothing of.

You all give me a feeling of being able to trust and confide in you.


I wish I had settled with Mrs. Fraser not to go to her till after Easter, a much better time for the visit, but now I cannot put her off.

I wish I had settled with Mrs. Fraser not to go till after Easter, but now I cannot put her off.


And when I have done with her I must go to her sister, Lady Stornaway, because _she_ was rather my most particular friend of the two, but I have not cared much for _her_ these three years."

And then I must go to her sister, Lady Stornaway, because she was my most particular friend of the two, but I have not cared much for her these three years."


After this speech the two girls sat many minutes silent, each thoughtful: Fanny meditating on the different sorts of friendship in the world, Mary on something of less philosophic tendency. _She_ first spoke again.

After this speech the two girls sat silent, before Mary spoke again.


"How perfectly I remember my resolving to look for you upstairs, and setting off to find my way to the East room, without having an idea whereabouts it was!

"How perfectly I remember resolving to look for you upstairs, and setting off to find my way to the East room, without having an idea whereabouts it was!


How well I remember what I was thinking of as I came along, and my looking in and seeing you here sitting at this table at work; and then your cousin's astonishment, when he opened the door, at seeing me here!

How well I remember looking in and seeing you sitting at work; and then your cousin's astonishment, when he opened the door, at seeing me here!


To be sure, your uncle's returning that very evening!


There never was anything quite like it."


Another short fit of abstraction followed, when, shaking it off, she thus attacked her companion.

Another short fit of abstraction followed; then she thus attacked her companion.


"Why, Fanny, you are absolutely in a reverie.


Thinking, I hope, of one who is always thinking of you.


that I could transport you for a short time into our circle in town, that you might understand how your power over Henry is thought of there!

if only I could transport you into our circle in town, that you might understand how your power over Henry is thought of there!


the envyings and heartburnings of dozens and dozens; the wonder, the incredulity that will be felt at hearing what you have done!

the envyings and heartburnings of dozens and dozens; the incredulity that will be felt at hearing what you have done!


For as to secrecy, Henry is quite the hero of an old romance, and glories in his chains.

For as to secrecy, Henry glories in his chains.


You should come to London to know how to estimate your conquest. If you were to see how he is courted, and how I am courted for his sake!

If you were to see how he is courted in London!


Now, I am well aware that I shall not be half so welcome to Mrs. Fraser in consequence of his situation with you. When she comes to know the truth she will, very likely, wish me in Northamptonshire again; for there is a daughter of Mr. Fraser, by a first wife, whom she is wild to get married, and wants Henry to take.

I shall not be half so welcome to Mrs. Fraser when she knows the truth; for she has a step-daughter whom she is wild to get married, and wants Henry to take.


she has been trying for him to such a degree.


Innocent and quiet as you sit here, you cannot have an idea of the _sensation_ that you will be occasioning, of the curiosity there will be to see you, of the endless questions I shall have to answer!

Innocent and quiet as you sit here, you cannot have an idea of the curiosity there will be about you, of the endless questions I shall have to answer!


Poor Margaret Fraser will be at me for ever about your eyes and your teeth, and how you do your hair, and who makes your shoes.

Poor Margaret Fraser will be at me for ever about how you do your hair, and who makes your shoes.


I wish Margaret were married, for my poor friend's sake, for I look upon the Frasers to be about as unhappy as most other married people.

I wish Margaret were married, for my poor friend's sake, for I think the Frasers are about as unhappy as most married people.


And yet it was a most desirable match for Janet at the time.


She could not do otherwise than accept him, for he was rich, and she had nothing; but he turns out ill-tempered and _exigeant_, and wants a young woman, a beautiful young woman of five-and-twenty, to be as steady as himself.

She had to accept him, for he was rich, and she had nothing; but he turns out ill-tempered and demanding, and wants a young woman of five-and-twenty to be as steady as himself.


And my friend does not manage him well; she does not seem to know how to make the best of it.

And my friend does not seem to know how to make the best of it.


There is a spirit of irritation which, to say nothing worse, is certainly very ill-bred.

His irritation is certainly very ill-bred.


In their house I shall call to mind the conjugal manners of Mansfield Parsonage with respect.


Even Dr. Grant does shew a thorough confidence in my sister, and a certain consideration for her judgment, which makes one feel there _is_ attachment; but of that I shall see nothing with the Frasers.

Even Dr. Grant shows a confidence in my sister, and a consideration for her judgment, which makes one feel there is attachment; but of that I shall see nothing with the Frasers.


I shall be at Mansfield for ever, Fanny.


My own sister as a wife, Sir Thomas Bertram as a husband, are my standards of perfection.


Poor Janet has been sadly taken in, and yet there was nothing improper on her side: she did not run into the match inconsiderately; there was no want of foresight. She took three days to consider of his proposals, and during those three days asked the advice of everybody connected with her whose opinion was worth having, and especially applied to my late dear aunt, whose knowledge of the world made her judgment very generally and deservedly looked up to by all the young people of her acquaintance, and she was decidedly in favour of Mr. Fraser.

Poor Janet has been sadly taken in, and yet she took three days to consider his proposals, and asked everyone's advice.


This seems as if nothing were a security for matrimonial comfort.


I have not so much to say for my friend Flora, who jilted a very nice young man in the Blues for the sake of that horrid Lord Stornaway, who has about as much sense, Fanny, as Mr. Rushworth, but much worse-looking, and with a blackguard character.

I have not so much to say for my friend Flora, who jilted a very nice young man in the Blues for the sake of that horrid Lord Stornaway, who has about as much sense as Mr. Rushworth, but is much worse-looking, and with a blackguard character.


I _had_ my doubts at the time about her being right, for he has not even the air of a gentleman, and now I am sure she was wrong.


By the bye, Flora Ross was dying for Henry the first winter she came out.


But were I to attempt to tell you of all the women whom I have known to be in love with him, I should never have done.

But were I to tell you of all the women who have been in love with him, I should never finish.


It is you, only you, insensible Fanny, who can think of him with anything like indifference.

It is only you, unfeeling Fanny, who can think of him with indifference.


But are you so insensible as you profess yourself?


There was, indeed, so deep a blush over Fanny's face at that moment as might warrant strong suspicion in a predisposed mind.

There was, indeed, a deep blush over Fanny's face at that moment.


But, dear Fanny, you must allow that you were not so absolutely unprepared to have the question asked as your cousin fancies.

But, dear Fanny, you cannot have been so unprepared as your cousin fancies.


It is not possible but that you must have had some thoughts on the subject, some surmises as to what might be.

You must have had some thoughts on the subject, some surmises.


You must have seen that he was trying to please you by every attention in his power.

You must have seen that Henry was trying to please you by every attention in his power.


You were as conscious as heart could desire.


"Do you mean, then, that your brother knew of the necklace beforehand?


It was his own doing entirely, his own thought.


I am ashamed to say that it had never entered my head, but I was delighted to act on his proposal for both your sakes."

I am ashamed to say that it had never entered my head, but I was delighted to act on his proposal."


"I will not say," replied Fanny, "that I was not half afraid at the time of its being so, for there was something in your look that frightened me, but not at first; I was as unsuspicious of it at first-indeed, indeed I was.

"I was half afraid at the time of its being so," said Fanny; "but not at first; I was unsuspicious of it at first, indeed.


And had I had an idea of it, nothing should have induced me to accept the necklace.

If I had suspected it, nothing should have induced me to accept the necklace.


As to your brother's behaviour, certainly I was sensible of a particularity: I had been sensible of it some little time, perhaps two or three weeks; but then I considered it as meaning nothing: I put it down as simply being his way, and was as far from supposing as from wishing him to have any serious thoughts of me.

As to your brother's behaviour, I had been aware of a particularity some two or three weeks, but I considered it as meaning nothing: I put it down as simply being his way.


I had not, Miss Crawford, been an inattentive observer of what was passing between him and some part of this family in the summer and autumn.

I observed what was passing between him and some of this family in the summer and autumn.


I could not but see that Mr. Crawford amused himself in gallantries which did mean nothing."

I could not help seeing that Mr. Crawford allowed himself gallantries which did mean nothing."


He has now and then been a sad flirt, and cared very little for the havoc he might be making in young ladies' affections.


I have often scolded him for it, but it is his only fault; and there is this to be said, that very few young ladies have any affections worth caring for.


And then, Fanny, the glory of fixing one who has been shot at by so many; of having it in one's power to pay off the debts of one's sex!

And then, Fanny, the glory of fixing one who has been shot at by so many!


I am sure it is not in woman's nature to refuse such a triumph."


"I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman's feelings; and there may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge of."


I leave him entirely to your mercy, and when he has got you at Everingham, I do not care how much you lecture him.


But this I will say, that his fault, the liking to make girls a little in love with him, is not half so dangerous to a wife's happiness as a tendency to fall in love himself, which he has never been addicted to.


And I do seriously and truly believe that he is attached to you in a way that he never was to any woman before; that he loves you with all his heart, and will love you as nearly for ever as possible.


If any man ever loved a woman for ever, I think Henry will do as much for you."


Fanny could not avoid a faint smile, but had nothing to say.


"I cannot imagine Henry ever to have been happier," continued Mary presently, "than when he had succeeded in getting your brother's commission."

"He was never happier," continued Mary, "than when he succeeded in getting your brother's commission."


She had made a sure push at Fanny's feelings here.


"I know he must have exerted himself very much, for I know the parties he had to move. The Admiral hates trouble, and scorns asking favours; and there are so many young men's claims to be attended to in the same way, that a friendship and energy, not very determined, is easily put by.

"I know he must have exerted himself very much, for the Admiral hates trouble, and scorns asking favours.


Poor Fanny's mind was thrown into the most distressing of all its varieties.


The recollection of what had been done for William was always the most powerful disturber of every decision against Mr. Crawford; and she sat thinking deeply of it till Mary, who had been first watching her complacently, and then musing on something else, suddenly called her attention by saying: "I should like to sit talking with you here all day, but we must not forget the ladies below, and so good-bye, my dear, my amiable, my excellent Fanny, for though we shall nominally part in the breakfast-parlour, I must take leave of you here.

The recollection of what had been done for William was always the most powerful disturber of every decision against Mr. Crawford; and she sat thinking deeply till Mary said: "I should like to sit here talking to you all day, but we must not forget the ladies below: so good-bye, my dear, my amiable, my excellent Fanny, for I must take leave of you here.


And I do take leave, longing for a happy reunion, and trusting that when we meet again, it will be under circumstances which may open our hearts to each other without any remnant or shadow of reserve."

And I do take leave, trusting that when we meet again, it will be under circumstances which may open our hearts to each other without any shadow of reserve."


A very, very kind embrace, and some agitation of manner, accompanied these words.

A very kind embrace accompanied these words.


"I shall see your cousin in town soon: he talks of being there tolerably soon; and Sir Thomas, I dare say, in the course of the spring; and your eldest cousin, and the Rushworths, and Julia, I am sure of meeting again and again, and all but you.

"I shall see your cousin in town soon: he talks of being there; and Sir Thomas, I dare say, in the spring; and your eldest cousin, and the Rushworths, and Julia.


I have two favours to ask, Fanny: one is your correspondence. You must write to me.

I have two favours to ask, Fanny: one is, that you must write to me.


And the other, that you will often call on Mrs. Grant, and make her amends for my being gone."


The first, at least, of these favours Fanny would rather not have been asked; but it was impossible for her to refuse the correspondence; it was impossible for her even not to accede to it more readily than her own judgment authorised.

The first of these favours Fanny would rather not have been asked; but it was impossible for her to refuse.


There was no resisting so much apparent affection.


Her disposition was peculiarly calculated to value a fond treatment, and from having hitherto known so little of it, she was the more overcome by Miss Crawford's.

Having hitherto known so little of it, she was the more overcome by Miss Crawford's.


Besides, there was gratitude towards her, for having made their _tte--tte_ so much less painful than her fears had predicted.

Besides, she was grateful to her for having made their tte--tte so much less painful than she had feared.


It was over, and she had escaped without reproaches and without detection.


Her secret was still her own; and while that was the case, she thought she could resign herself to almost everything.


In the evening there was another parting.


Henry Crawford came and sat some time with them; and her spirits not being previously in the strongest state, her heart was softened for a while towards him, because he really seemed to feel.

Henry Crawford came and sat some time with them; and her heart was softened towards him, because he really seemed to feel.


Quite unlike his usual self, he scarcely said anything.


He was evidently oppressed, and Fanny must grieve for him, though hoping she might never see him again till he were the husband of some other woman.


When it came to the moment of parting, he would take her hand, he would not be denied it; he said nothing, however, or nothing that she heard, and when he had left the room, she was better pleased that such a token of friendship had passed.

When it came to the moment of parting, he took her hand; he said nothing, however, and left the room.


How is the consternation of the party to be described?


To the greater number it was a moment of absolute horror.

To most it was a moment of absolute horror.


Not a hope of imposition or mistake was harboured anywhere.


Julia's looks were an evidence of the fact that made it indisputable; and after the first starts and exclamations, not a word was spoken for half a minute: each with an altered countenance was looking at some other, and almost each was feeling it a stroke the most unwelcome, most ill-timed, most appalling!

After the first exclamations, not a word was spoken for half a minute: each with an altered countenance was looking at some other, and feeling it a stroke the most unwelcome, most ill-timed!


Mr. Yates might consider it only as a vexatious interruption for the evening, and Mr. Rushworth might imagine it a blessing; but every other heart was sinking under some degree of self-condemnation or undefined alarm, every other heart was suggesting, "What will become of us?

Mr. Yates might consider it only as an interruption, and Mr. Rushworth might imagine it a blessing; but every other heart was sinking under self-condemnation or undefined alarm.


It was a terrible pause; and terrible to every ear were the corroborating sounds of opening doors and passing footsteps.

It was a terrible pause; and terrible to every ear were the sounds of opening doors and footsteps.


Julia was the first to move and speak again.


Jealousy and bitterness had been suspended: selfishness was lost in the common cause; but at the moment of her appearance, Frederick was listening with looks of devotion to Agatha's narrative, and pressing her hand to his heart; and as soon as she could notice this, and see that, in spite of the shock of her words, he still kept his station and retained her sister's hand, her wounded heart swelled again with injury, and looking as red as she had been white before, she turned out of the room, saying, "_I_ need not be afraid of appearing before him."

At the moment of her appearance, Frederick was listening with devoted looks to Agatha, and pressing her hand to his heart; and as soon as Julia noticed this, and saw that he still retained her sister's hand, her wounded heart swelled again with injury. She left the room, saying, "I need not be afraid of appearing before him."


Her going roused the rest; and at the same moment the two brothers stepped forward, feeling the necessity of doing something. A very few words between them were sufficient. The case admitted no difference of opinion: they must go to the drawing-room directly.

Her going roused the rest. The two brothers stepped forward, and agreed they must go to the drawing-room directly.


Maria joined them with the same intent, just then the stoutest of the three; for the very circumstance which had driven Julia away was to her the sweetest support.

Maria joined them, just then the stoutest of the three; for the very circumstance which had driven Julia away was to her the sweetest support.


Henry Crawford's retaining her hand at such a moment, a moment of such peculiar proof and importance, was worth ages of doubt and anxiety.

Henry Crawford's retaining her hand at such a moment was worth ages of doubt and anxiety.


She hailed it as an earnest of the most serious determination, and was equal even to encounter her father.

She hailed it as a sign of the most serious intent, and was equal even to encounter her father.


They walked off, utterly heedless of Mr. Rushworth's repeated question of, "Shall I go too?

They walked off, heedless of Mr. Rushworth's repeated question of, "Shall I go too?


but they were no sooner through the door than Henry Crawford undertook to answer the anxious inquiry, and, encouraging him by all means to pay his respects to Sir Thomas without delay, sent him after the others with delighted haste.

Henry Crawford answered the anxious inquiry, and, encouraging him to pay his respects to Sir Thomas, sent him after the others with delighted haste.


Fanny was left with only the Crawfords and Mr. Yates.

Fanny was left with the Crawfords and Mr. Yates.


She had been quite overlooked by her cousins; and as her own opinion of her claims on Sir Thomas's affection was much too humble to give her any idea of classing herself with his children, she was glad to remain behind and gain a little breathing-time.

She had been quite overlooked; and as her own opinion of her claim on Sir Thomas's affection was much too humble to give her any idea of classing herself with his children, she was glad to remain behind.


Her agitation and alarm exceeded all that was endured by the rest, by the right of a disposition which not even innocence could keep from suffering.