That seemed to make it right for me to put an end to my life; for calamity had closed me in too, and I saw no pathway but to evil.

That seemed to make it right for me to put an end to my life; but


But my mind got into war with itself, for there were contrary things in it.


I knew that some had held it wrong to hasten their own death, though they were in the midst of flames; and while I had some strength left it was a longing to bear if I ought to bear--else where was the good of all my life?

I knew that some held it wrong to hasten their own death, and while I had some strength left I ought to bear it - else where was the good of all my life?


It had not been happy since the first years: when the light came every morning I used to think, 'I will bear it.'

It had not been happy since the first years: every morning I used to think, 'I will bear it.'


But always before I had some hope; now it was gone.


With these thoughts I wandered and wandered, inwardly crying to the Most High, from whom I should not flee in death more than in life--though I had no strong faith that He cared for me.

"With these thoughts I wandered, inwardly crying to the Most High, though I had no strong faith that He cared for me.


The strength seemed departing from my soul; deep below all my cries was the feeling that I was alone and forsaken.

The strength seemed departing from my soul.


The more I thought the wearier I got, till it seemed I was not thinking at all, but only the sky and the river and the Eternal God were in my soul.


And what was it whether I died or lived?


If I lay down to die in the river, was it more than lying down to sleep?--for there too I committed my soul--I gave myself up.

If I lay down to die in the river, was it more than lying down to sleep? I gave myself up to it.


I could not bear memories any more; I could only feel what was present in me--it was all one longing to cease from my weary life, which seemed only a pain outside the great peace that I might enter into.

I could not bear memories any more; I could only feel a longing to cease from my weary life, and enter the great peace.


When the evening came and the sun was gone, it seemed as if that was all I had to wait for.


And a new strength came into me to will what I would do.

a new strength came into me to decide what I would do.


You know what happened--did he not tell you?

You know what happened - did he not tell you?


Faith came to me again; I was not forsaken.


Mrs. Meyrick gave no audible answer, but pressed her lips against Mirah's forehead.


"She's just a pearl; the mud has only washed her," was the fervid little woman's closing commentary when, _tete--tete_ with Deronda in the back parlor that evening, she had conveyed Mirah's story to him with much vividness.

"She's just a pearl; the mud has only washed her," was her closing comment to Deronda that evening, after she had related Mirah's story with much vividness.


"What is your feeling about a search for this mother?"


"Oh, I believe the mother's good," said Mrs. Meyrick, with rapid decisiveness; "or _was_ good.

"Oh, I believe the mother's good," said Mrs. Meyrick decisively; "or was good.


A good woman, you may depend: you may know it by the scoundrel the father is.

You may know she was good by the scoundrel the father is.


Where did the child get her goodness from?"


Deronda was rather disappointed at this answer; he had wanted a confirmation of his own judgment, and he began to put in demurrers.

Deronda was disappointed at this answer, for he had wanted a confirmation of his own judgment;


The argument about the mother would not apply to the brother; and Mrs. Meyrick admitted that the brother might be an ugly likeness of the father.

but Mrs. Meyrick admitted that the brother might be an ugly likeness of the father.


Then, as to advertising, if the name was Cohen, you might as well advertise for two undescribed terriers; and here Mrs. Meyrick helped him, for the idea of an advertisement, already mentioned to Mirah, had roused the poor child's terror; she was convinced that her father would see it--he saw everything in the papers.

Then, as to advertising, if the name was Cohen, you might as well advertise for two undescribed terriers. The idea of an advertisement, already mentioned to Mirah, had roused the poor child's terror; she was convinced that her father would see it.


Certainly there were safer means than advertising; men might be set to work whose business it was to find missing persons; but Deronda wished Mrs. Meyrick to feel with him that it would be wiser to wait, before seeking a dubious--perhaps a deplorable result; especially as he was engaged to go abroad the next week for a couple of months.

Men might be set to work whose business it was to find missing persons; but Deronda wished to wait before seeking a dubious result; especially as he was soon to go abroad for a couple of months.


If a search were made, he would like to be at hand, so that Mrs. Meyrick might not be unaided in meeting any consequences--supposing that she would generously continue to watch over Mirah.

If a search were made, he would like to be at hand, to help Mrs. Meyrick in meeting any consequences - supposing that she would generously continue to watch over Mirah.


"We should be very jealous of any one who took the task from us," said Mrs. Meyrick.

"Of course she will stay here," said Mrs. Meyrick


"She will stay under my roof; there is Hans's old room for her."


It is not her nature to run into planning and devising: only to submit.


It was a wonder to herself how she found the will and contrivance to run away from him.

It was a wonder to herself how she found the will to run away from him.


About finding her mother, her only notion now is to trust; since you were sent to save her and we are good to her, she trusts that her mother will be found in the same unsought way.

As to finding her mother, since you were sent to save her, she trusts that her mother will be found in the same unsought way."


And when she is talking I catch her feeling like a child."


Mrs. Meyrick hoped that the sum Deronda put into her hands as a provision for Mirah's wants was more than would be needed; after a little while Mirah would perhaps like to occupy herself as the other girls did, and make herself independent.

Deronda gave her some money for Mirah's wants; but she expressed her hope that after a little while Mirah would perhaps like to work as the other girls did, and make herself independent.


Deronda pleaded that she must need a long rest.


"Oh, yes; we will hurry nothing," said Mrs. Meyrick.


"Rely upon it, she shall be taken tender care of.


If you like to give me your address abroad, I will write to let you know how we get on.

I will write to let you know how we get on."


It is not fair that we should have all the pleasure of her salvation to ourselves.


And besides, I want to make believe that I am doing something for you as well as for Mirah."


What should I have done without you last night?


I shall tell Hans that the best of having him for a friend is, knowing his mother."


After that they joined the girls in the other room, where Mirah was seated placidly, while the others were telling her what they knew about Mr. Deronda--his goodness to Hans, and all the virtues that Hans had reported of him.

They joined the girls in the other room, where Mirah was seated placidly while the others were telling her about Mr. Deronda's goodness to Hans.


"Kate burns a pastille before his portrait every day," said Mab.


"And I carry his signature in a little black-silk bag round my neck to keep off the cramp.


And Amy says the multiplication-table in his name.

Amy says the multiplication-table in his name," said Mab.


We must all do something extra in honor of him, now he has brought you to us."

"We must all do something in his honour, now he has brought you to us."


"I suppose he is too great a person to want anything," said Mirah, smiling at Mab, and appealing to the graver Amy.


"He is perhaps very high in the world?" asked Mirah.


"He is very much above us in rank," said Amy.


I dare say he leans on some of the satin cushions we prick our fingers over."


"I am glad he is of high rank," said Mirah, with her usual quietness.


said Amy, rather suspicious of this sentiment, and on the watch for Jewish peculiarities which had not appeared.


"Because I have always disliked men of high rank before."

"because I have always disliked men of high rank before."


"Oh, Mr. Deronda is not so very high," said Kate, "He need not hinder us from thinking ill of the whole peerage and baronetage if we like."

"Oh, Mr. Deronda is not so very high," said Kate. "He need not hinder us from thinking ill of the whole peerage if we like."


When he entered, Mirah rose with the same look of grateful reverence that she had lifted to him the evening before: impossible to see a creature freer at once from embarrassment and boldness.

When he entered, Mirah rose with a look of grateful reverence, free from either embarrassment or boldness.


Her theatrical training had left no recognizable trace; probably her manners had not much changed since she played the forsaken child at nine years of age; and she had grown up in her simplicity and truthfulness like a little flower-seed that absorbs the chance confusion of its surrounding into its own definite mould of beauty.

Her theatrical training had left no trace; she had grown up in her simplicity and truthfulness like a flower.


Deronda felt that he was making acquaintance with something quite new to him in the form of womanhood.

Deronda felt that she was a form of womanhood quite new to him.


For Mirah was not childlike from ignorance: her experience of evil and trouble was deeper and stranger than his own.

For Mirah was not childlike from ignorance: her experience of trouble was deeper and stranger than his own.


He felt inclined to watch her and listen to her as if she had come from a far off shore inhabited by a race different from our own.


But for that very reason he made his visit brief with his usual activity of imagination as to how his conduct might affect others, he shrank from what might seem like curiosity or the assumption of a right to know as much as he pleased of one to whom he had done a service.

But he made his visit brief, shrinking from what might seem like curiosity or the assumption of a right to know as much as he pleased about her.


For example, he would have liked to hear her sing, but he would have felt the expression of such a wish to be rudeness in him--since she could not refuse, and he would all the while have a sense that she was being treated like one whose accomplishments were to be ready on demand.

He would have liked to hear her sing, but felt it would be rude to ask, since she could not refuse.


And whatever reverence could be shown to woman, he was bent on showing to this girl.


He gave himself several good reasons; but whatever one does with a strong unhesitating outflow of will has a store of motive that it would be hard to put into words.


Some deeds seem little more than interjections which give vent to the long passion of a life.


So Deronda soon took his farewell for the two months during which he expected to be absent from London, and in a few days he was on his way with Sir Hugo and Lady Mallinger to Leubronn.

So Deronda soon took his farewell, and in a few days he was on his way with Sir Hugo and Lady Mallinger to Leubronn.


He had fulfilled his intention of telling them about Mirah.


The baronet was decidedly of opinion that the search for the mother and brother had better be let alone.

; and the baronet felt decidedly that the search for the mother and brother had better be let alone.


Lady Mallinger was much interested in the poor girl, observing that there was a society for the conversion of the Jews, and that it was to be hoped Mirah would embrace Christianity; but perceiving that Sir Hugo looked at her with amusement, she concluded that she had said something foolish.


Lady Mallinger felt apologetically about herself as a woman who had produced nothing but daughters in a case where sons were required, and hence regarded the apparent contradictions of the world as probably due to the weakness of her own understanding.


But when she was much puzzled, it was her habit to say to herself, "I will ask Daniel."


Deronda was altogether a convenience in the family; and Sir Hugo too, after intending to do the best for him, had begun to feel that the pleasantest result would be to have this substitute for a son always ready at his elbow.


This was the history of Deronda, so far as he knew it, up to the time of that visit to Leubronn in which he saw Gwendolen Harleth at the gaming-table.

This was the history of Deronda up to that visit to Leubronn in which he saw Gwendolen Harleth at the gaming-table.


A quarter of an hour, twenty minutes, passed away, and Fanny was still thinking of Edmund, Miss Crawford, and herself, without interruption from any one.


She began to be surprised at being left so long, and to listen with an anxious desire of hearing their steps and their voices again.

began to be surprised at being left so long, and to listen anxiously for their steps and voices.


She listened, and at length she heard; she heard voices and feet approaching; but she had just satisfied herself that it was not those she wanted, when Miss Bertram, Mr. Rushworth, and Mr. Crawford issued from the same path which she had trod herself, and were before her.

At length she heard voices approaching; but it was not those she wanted. Miss Bertram, Mr. Rushworth, and Mr. Crawford were before her.


"Miss Price all alone" and "My dear Fanny, how comes this?"


"Poor dear Fanny," cried her cousin, "how ill you have been used by them!

"Poor dear Fanny," cried Maria, "how ill you have been used!


Then seating herself with a gentleman on each side, she resumed the conversation which had engaged them before, and discussed the possibility of improvements with much animation.

Seating herself with a gentleman on each side, Maria resumed their conversation, discussing the possible improvements with much animation.


Nothing was fixed on; but Henry Crawford was full of ideas and projects, and, generally speaking, whatever he proposed was immediately approved, first by her, and then by Mr. Rushworth, whose principal business seemed to be to hear the others, and who scarcely risked an original thought of his own beyond a wish that they had seen his friend Smith's place.

Nothing was fixed on; but Henry Crawford was full of ideas, and whatever he proposed was immediately approved, first by her, and then by Mr. Rushworth, who scarcely risked an original thought of his own.


After some minutes spent in this way, Miss Bertram, observing the iron gate, expressed a wish of passing through it into the park, that their views and their plans might be more comprehensive.

After some minutes, Miss Bertram, observing the iron gate, expressed a wish of passing through it into the park, that their views and plans might be more comprehensive.


It was the very thing of all others to be wished, it was the best, it was the only way of proceeding with any advantage, in Henry Crawford's opinion; and he directly saw a knoll not half a mile off, which would give them exactly the requisite command of the house.

It was the best way of proceeding, in Henry Crawford's opinion; and he saw a knoll not half a mile off, which would give them a view of the house.


Go therefore they must to that knoll, and through that gate; but the gate was locked.

Go therefore they must to that knoll; but the gate was locked.


Mr. Rushworth wished he had brought the key; he had been very near thinking whether he should not bring the key; he was determined he would never come without the key again; but still this did not remove the present evil.

Mr. Rushworth wished he had brought the key; he had been very near to bringing the key; he was determined he would never come without the key again; but this did not remove the present evil.


They could not get through; and as Miss Bertram's inclination for so doing did by no means lessen, it ended in Mr. Rushworth's declaring outright that he would go and fetch the key.

They could not get through; and it ended in Mr. Rushworth's declaring that he would go and fetch the key.


"It is undoubtedly the best thing we can do now, as we are so far from the house already," said Mr. Crawford, when he was gone.

When he was gone, Maria addressed Mr Crawford


But now, sincerely, do not you find the place altogether worse than you expected?"

"Sincerely, do not you find the place worse than you expected?"


I find it better, grander, more complete in its style, though that style may not be the best.

I find it grander, more complete in its style, though that style may not be the best.


And to tell you the truth," speaking rather lower, "I do not think that _I_ shall ever see Sotherton again with so much pleasure as I do now.

And to tell you the truth," speaking rather lower, "I do not think that I shall ever see Sotherton again with so much pleasure as I do now.


Another summer will hardly improve it to me."


After a moment's embarrassment the lady replied, "You are too much a man of the world not to see with the eyes of the world.


If other people think Sotherton improved, I have no doubt that you will."


"I am afraid I am not quite so much the man of the world as might be good for me in some points.

"I am afraid I am not so much the man of the world as might be good for me.


My feelings are not quite so evanescent, nor my memory of the past under such easy dominion as one finds to be the case with men of the world."

My feelings are not quite so light as is the case with men of the world."


"You seemed to enjoy your drive here very much this morning.


I was glad to see you so well entertained.


You and Julia were laughing the whole way."


Yes, I believe we were; but I have not the least recollection at what.


I believe I was relating to her some ridiculous stories of an old Irish groom of my uncle's.


"You think her more light-hearted than I am?"


"More easily amused," he replied; "consequently, you know," smiling, "better company.

"More easily amused," he replied, smiling.


"I could not have hoped to entertain you with Irish anecdotes during a ten miles' drive."


"Naturally, I believe, I am as lively as Julia, but I have more to think of now."


"You have, undoubtedly; and there are situations in which very high spirits would denote insensibility.


Your prospects, however, are too fair to justify want of spirits.


You have a very smiling scene before you."


Yes, certainly, the sun shines, and the park looks very cheerful.


But unluckily that iron gate, that ha-ha, give me a feeling of restraint and hardship.


'I cannot get out,' as the starling said."


As she spoke, and it was with expression, she walked to the gate: he followed her.


"Mr. Rushworth is so long fetching this key!"


"And for the world you would not get out without the key and without Mr. Rushworth's authority and protection, or I think you might with little difficulty pass round the edge of the gate, here, with my assistance; I think it might be done, if you really wished to be more at large, and could allow yourself to think it not prohibited."

"And for the world you would not get out without the key and without Mr. Rushworth's authority, or I think you might easily pass round the edge of the gate, here, with my assistance; I think it might be done, if you really wished to be more at large, and did not think it prohibited."


I certainly can get out that way, and I will.


Mr. Rushworth will be here in a moment, you know; we shall not be out of sight."

Mr. Rushworth will be here in a moment; we shall not be out of sight."


"Or if we are, Miss Price will be so good as to tell him that he will find us near that knoll: the grove of oak on the knoll."

"Or if we are, Miss Price will tell him that he will find us on that knoll."


Fanny, feeling all this to be wrong, could not help making an effort to prevent it.


"You will hurt yourself, Miss Bertram," she cried; "you will certainly hurt yourself against those spikes; you will tear your gown; you will be in danger of slipping into the ha-ha.

"You will hurt yourself, Miss Bertram," she cried; "you will tear your gown; you will be in danger of slipping into the ha-ha.


Her cousin was safe on the other side while these words were spoken, and, smiling with all the good-humour of success, she said, "Thank you, my dear Fanny, but I and my gown are alive and well, and so good-bye."

Her cousin was safe on the other side while these words were spoken, and, smiling with the good-humour of success, she said, "Thank you, dear Fanny, but I and my gown are alive and well, and so good-bye."


Fanny was again left to her solitude, and with no increase of pleasant feelings, for she was sorry for almost all that she had seen and heard, astonished at Miss Bertram, and angry with Mr. Crawford.

Fanny was again left alone, and with no pleasant feelings, for she was astonished at Miss Bertram, and angry with Mr. Crawford.


By taking a circuitous, and, as it appeared to her, very unreasonable direction to the knoll, they were soon beyond her eye; and for some minutes longer she remained without sight or sound of any companion.

By taking a circuitous and very unreasonable direction to the knoll, they were soon beyond her eye; and for some minutes she


She seemed to have the little wood all to herself.


She could almost have thought that Edmund and Miss Crawford had left it, but that it was impossible for Edmund to forget her so entirely.


She was again roused from disagreeable musings by sudden footsteps: somebody was coming at a quick pace down the principal walk.

She was again roused by sudden footsteps: somebody was coming at a quick pace down the walk.


She expected Mr. Rushworth, but it was Julia, who, hot and out of breath, and with a look of disappointment, cried out on seeing her, "Heyday!

She expected Mr. Rushworth, but it was Julia, who, hot and out of breath, and with a look of disappointment, cried out, "Heyday!


I thought Maria and Mr. Crawford were with you."


I cannot see them anywhere," looking eagerly into the park.


"But they cannot be very far off, and I think I am equal to as much as Maria, even without help."

But they cannot be far off, and I think I am equal to as much as Maria, even without help."


"But, Julia, Mr. Rushworth will be here in a moment with the key.


I have had enough of the family for one morning.


Why, child, I have but this moment escaped from his horrible mother.

Why, I have but this moment escaped from his horrible mother.


Such a penance as I have been enduring, while you were sitting here so composed and so happy!

Such a penance as I have endured, while you were sitting here composed and happy!


It might have been as well, perhaps, if you had been in my place, but you always contrive to keep out of these scrapes."

You always contrive to keep out of these scrapes."


This was a most unjust reflection, but Fanny could allow for it, and let it pass: Julia was vexed, and her temper was hasty; but she felt that it would not last, and therefore, taking no notice, only asked her if she had not seen Mr. Rushworth.

This was a most unjust reflection, but Fanny could allow for it, for Julia was vexed. She therefore only asked her if she had seen Mr. Rushworth.


He was posting away as if upon life and death, and could but just spare time to tell us his errand, and where you all were."

"Yes, he was hurrying away as if upon life and death, and could just spare time to tell us his errand."


"It is a pity he should have so much trouble for nothing."


I am not obliged to punish myself for _her_ sins.

I am not obliged to punish myself for her sins.


The mother I could not avoid, as long as my tiresome aunt was dancing about with the housekeeper, but the son I _can_ get away from."

The mother I could not avoid, but the son I can get away from."


And she immediately scrambled across the fence, and walked away, not attending to Fanny's last question of whether she had seen anything of Miss Crawford and Edmund.

And she immediately scrambled across the fence, and walked away.


The sort of dread in which Fanny now sat of seeing Mr. Rushworth prevented her thinking so much of their continued absence, however, as she might have done.

Fanny now sat in dread of seeing Mr. Rushworth


She felt that he had been very ill-used, and was quite unhappy in having to communicate what had passed.

; she felt that he had been very ill-used.


He joined her within five minutes after Julia's exit; and though she made the best of the story, he was evidently mortified and displeased in no common degree.

He joined her five minutes after Julia's exit; and though she made the best of the story, he was evidently greatly mortified.


At first he scarcely said anything; his looks only expressed his extreme surprise and vexation, and he walked to the gate and stood there, without seeming to know what to do.

His looks expressed his extreme surprise and vexation, and he walked to the gate and stood there, without seeming to know what to do.


"They desired me to stay-my cousin Maria charged me to say that you would find them at that knoll, or thereabouts."

"My cousin Maria charged me to say that you would find them at that knoll."


"I do not believe I shall go any farther," said he sullenly; "I see nothing of them.

"I shall not go," said he sullenly; "I see nothing of them.


By the time I get to the knoll they may be gone somewhere else.

By the time I get to the knoll they may be somewhere else.


And he sat down with a most gloomy countenance by Fanny.


"I am very sorry," said she; "it is very unlucky."


And she longed to be able to say something more to the purpose.


After an interval of silence, "I think they might as well have staid for me," said he.

"I think they might have stayed for me," said he.


"Miss Bertram thought you would follow her."


"I should not have had to follow her if she had staid."

"I should not have had to follow her if she had stayed."


This could not be denied, and Fanny was silenced.


After another pause, he went on-"Pray, Miss Price, are you such a great admirer of this Mr. Crawford as some people are?

After a pause, he went on-"Pray, Miss Price, are you such a great admirer of this Mr. Crawford as some people are?


Nobody can call such an undersized man handsome.


I should not wonder if he is not more than five foot eight.


In my opinion, these Crawfords are no addition at all.


A small sigh escaped Fanny here, and she did not know how to contradict him.


"If I had made any difficulty about fetching the key, there might have been some excuse, but I went the very moment she said she wanted it."


"Nothing could be more obliging than your manner, I am sure, and I dare say you walked as fast as you could; but still it is some distance, you know, from this spot to the house, quite into the house; and when people are waiting, they are bad judges of time, and every half minute seems like five."

"Nothing could be more obliging, I am sure, and I dare say you walked as fast as you could; but still it is some distance, you know; and when people are waiting, every half minute seems like five."


He got up and walked to the gate again, and "wished he had had the key about him at the time."


Fanny thought she discerned in his standing there an indication of relenting, which encouraged her to another attempt, and she said, therefore, "It is a pity you should not join them.

Fanny thought he was inclined to relent, and she said, therefore, "It is a pity you should not join them.


They expected to have a better view of the house from that part of the park, and will be thinking how it may be improved; and nothing of that sort, you know, can be settled without you."

They expected to have a better view of the house from there, and will be thinking how it may be improved; and nothing can be settled without you."


She found herself more successful in sending away than in retaining a companion.


"Well," said he, "if you really think I had better go: it would be foolish to bring the key for nothing."


And letting himself out, he walked off without farther ceremony.


Fanny's thoughts were now all engrossed by the two who had left her so long ago, and getting quite impatient, she resolved to go in search of them.

Fanny's thoughts were now engrossed by the two who had left her so long ago, and getting quite impatient, she resolved to go in search of them.


She followed their steps along the bottom walk, and had just turned up into another, when the voice and the laugh of Miss Crawford once more caught her ear; the sound approached, and a few more windings brought them before her.

She followed their steps along the bottom walk, and had just turned up into another, when the laugh of Miss Crawford caught her ear; a few more windings brought them before her.


They were just returned into the wilderness from the park, to which a sidegate, not fastened, had tempted them very soon after their leaving her, and they had been across a portion of the park into the very avenue which Fanny had been hoping the whole morning to reach at last, and had been sitting down under one of the trees.

They were just returned from the park, and they had been into the very avenue which Fanny had been hoping the whole morning to reach, and had been sitting down under one of the trees.


It was evident that they had been spending their time pleasantly, and were not aware of the length of their absence.


Fanny's best consolation was in being assured that Edmund had wished for her very much, and that he should certainly have come back for her, had she not been tired already; but this was not quite sufficient to do away with the pain of having been left a whole hour, when he had talked of only a few minutes, nor to banish the sort of curiosity she felt to know what they had been conversing about all that time; and the result of the whole was to her disappointment and depression, as they prepared by general agreement to return to the house.

Fanny was assured that Edmund had wished for her very much, and that he should certainly have come back for her, had she not been tired; but this was not sufficient to ease the pain of having been left a whole hour, when he had talked of only a few minutes, nor to banish the curiosity she felt to know what they had been talking about all that time; and she felt depressed as they returned to the house.


On reaching the bottom of the steps to the terrace, Mrs. Rushworth and Mrs. Norris presented themselves at the top, just ready for the wilderness, at the end of an hour and a half from their leaving the house.

As they reached the bottom of the terrace, Mrs. Rushworth and Mrs. Norris appeared at the top, just ready for the wilderness.


Mrs. Norris had been too well employed to move faster.


Whatever cross-accidents had occurred to intercept the pleasures of her nieces, she had found a morning of complete enjoyment; for the housekeeper, after a great many courtesies on the subject of pheasants, had taken her to the dairy, told her all about their cows, and given her the receipt for a famous cream cheese; and since Julia's leaving them they had been met by the gardener, with whom she had made a most satisfactory acquaintance, for she had set him right as to his grandson's illness, convinced him that it was an ague, and promised him a charm for it; and he, in return, had shewn her all his choicest nursery of plants, and actually presented her with a very curious specimen of heath.

; for the housekeeper had taken her to the dairy, told her all about their cows, and given her the recipe for a famous cream cheese; and they had met the gardener, with whom she had made a most satisfactory acquaintance, for she had set him right as to his grandson's illness, and he had shown her his choicest plants, and presented her with a specimen of heath.


On this _rencontre_ they all returned to the house together, there to lounge away the time as they could with sofas, and chit-chat, and Quarterly Reviews, till the return of the others, and the arrival of dinner.

They all returned to the house together, to lounge away the time till the return of the others, and the arrival of dinner.


It was late before the Miss Bertrams and the two gentlemen came in, and their ramble did not appear to have been more than partially agreeable, or at all productive of anything useful with regard to the object of the day.

It was late before the Miss Bertrams and the two gentlemen came in, and their ramble did not appear to have been productive of anything useful.


By their own accounts they had been all walking after each other, and the junction which had taken place at last seemed, to Fanny's observation, to have been as much too late for re-establishing harmony, as it confessedly had been for determining on any alteration.

By their own accounts they had been all walking after each other, and the meeting which had taken place at last seemed to have been too late to re-establish harmony.


She felt, as she looked at Julia and Mr. Rushworth, that hers was not the only dissatisfied bosom amongst them: there was gloom on the face of each.

There was gloom on the faces of Julia and Mr Rushworth.


Mr. Crawford and Miss Bertram were much more gay, and she thought that he was taking particular pains, during dinner, to do away any little resentment of the other two, and restore general good-humour.

Mr. Crawford and Miss Bertram were much more gay, and Fanny thought that he was taking particular pains to do away any resentment of the other two, and restore good-humour.


Dinner was soon followed by tea and coffee, a ten miles' drive home allowed no waste of hours; and from the time of their sitting down to table, it was a quick succession of busy nothings till the carriage came to the door, and Mrs. Norris, having fidgeted about, and obtained a few pheasants' eggs and a cream cheese from the housekeeper, and made abundance of civil speeches to Mrs. Rushworth, was ready to lead the way.

They sat down to table, and then it was a quick succession of busy nothings till the carriage came to the door. Mrs. Norris, having obtained a few pheasants' eggs and a cream cheese from the housekeeper, was ready to lead the way.


At the same moment Mr. Crawford, approaching Julia, said, "I hope I am not to lose my companion, unless she is afraid of the evening air in so exposed a seat."


The request had not been foreseen, but was very graciously received, and Julia's day was likely to end almost as well as it began.


Miss Bertram had made up her mind to something different, and was a little disappointed; but her conviction of being really the one preferred comforted her under it, and enabled her to receive Mr. Rushworth's parting attentions as she ought.

Miss Bertram was a little disappointed; but her conviction of being really the one preferred comforted her, and she received Mr. Rushworth's parting attentions as she ought.


He was certainly better pleased to hand her into the barouche than to assist her in ascending the box, and his complacency seemed confirmed by the arrangement.

He was certainly better pleased to hand her into the barouche than to assist her in ascending the box.


"Well, Fanny, this has been a fine day for you, upon my word," said Mrs. Norris, as they drove through the park.

"Well, Fanny, this has been a fine day for you," said Mrs. Norris, as they drove through the park.


"Nothing but pleasure from beginning to end!


I am sure you ought to be very much obliged to your aunt Bertram and me for contriving to let you go.

You ought to be very much obliged to your aunt Bertram and me for contriving to let you go.


A pretty good day's amusement you have had!"


Maria was just discontented enough to say directly, "I think _you_ have done pretty well yourself, ma'am.

Maria was just discontented enough to say, "I think you have done pretty well yourself, ma'am.


Your lap seems full of good things, and here is a basket of something between us which has been knocking my elbow unmercifully."

Your lap seems full of good things, and here is a basket of something knocking my elbow unmercifully."


"My dear, it is only a beautiful little heath, which that nice old gardener would make me take; but if it is in your way, I will have it in my lap directly.

"My dear, it is only a beautiful little heath, which that nice old gardener would have me take.


There, Fanny, you shall carry that parcel for me; take great care of it: do not let it fall; it is a cream cheese, just like the excellent one we had at dinner.

Fanny, you carry that parcel for me; take great care of it: it is a cream cheese.


Nothing would satisfy that good old Mrs. Whitaker, but my taking one of the cheeses.


I stood out as long as I could, till the tears almost came into her eyes, and I knew it was just the sort that my sister would be delighted with.

I stood out as long as I could, till the tears almost came into her eyes.


She was quite shocked when I asked her whether wine was allowed at the second table, and she has turned away two housemaids for wearing white gowns.


Now I can manage the other parcel and the basket very well."


said Maria, half-pleased that Sotherton should be so complimented.


It is nothing but four of those beautiful pheasants' eggs, which Mrs. Whitaker would quite force upon me: she would not take a denial.

It is nothing but four of those beautiful pheasants' eggs, which Mrs. Whitaker would quite force upon me.


She said it must be such an amusement to me, as she understood I lived quite alone, to have a few living creatures of that sort; and so to be sure it will.

She said it must be such an amusement to me, as I lived quite alone, to have a few living creatures.


I shall get the dairymaid to set them under the first spare hen, and if they come to good I can have them moved to my own house and borrow a coop; and it will be a great delight to me in my lonely hours to attend to them.

It will be a great delight in my lonely hours to attend to them."


And if I have good luck, your mother shall have some."


It was a beautiful evening, mild and still, and the drive was as pleasant as the serenity of Nature could make it; but when Mrs. Norris ceased speaking, it was altogether a silent drive to those within.

It was a beautiful evening, and the drive was pleasant; but when Mrs. Norris ceased speaking, those within were altogether silent.


Their spirits were in general exhausted; and to determine whether the day had afforded most pleasure or pain, might occupy the meditations of almost all.

Their spirits were exhausted; and to determine whether the day had afforded most pleasure or pain, might occupy the thoughts of almost all.


It was, indeed, a triumphant day to Mr. Bertram and Maria.


Such a victory over Edmund's discretion had been beyond their hopes, and was most delightful.

Such a victory over Edmund had been beyond their hopes, and was most delightful.


There was no longer anything to disturb them in their darling project, and they congratulated each other in private on the jealous weakness to which they attributed the change, with all the glee of feelings gratified in every way.


Edmund might still look grave, and say he did not like the scheme in general, and must disapprove the play in particular; their point was gained: he was to act, and he was driven to it by the force of selfish inclinations only.

Edmund might still look grave, and say he did not like the scheme; but their point was gained: he was to act, and he was driven to it by selfish inclinations only.


Edmund had descended from that moral elevation which he had maintained before, and they were both as much the better as the happier for the descent.

Edmund had descended from his moral elevation, and they were both the happier for the descent.


They behaved very well, however, to _him_ on the occasion, betraying no exultation beyond the lines about the corners of the mouth, and seemed to think it as great an escape to be quit of the intrusion of Charles Maddox, as if they had been forced into admitting him against their inclination.

They behaved very well to him, however, betraying no exultation beyond the lines about the corners of the mouth.


"To have it quite in their own family circle was what they had particularly wished.


A stranger among them would have been the destruction of all their comfort"; and when Edmund, pursuing that idea, gave a hint of his hope as to the limitation of the audience, they were ready, in the complaisance of the moment, to promise anything.

When Edmund gave a hint of his hope that the audience would be limited, they were ready to promise anything.


It was all good-humour and encouragement.


Mrs. Norris offered to contrive his dress, Mr. Yates assured him that Anhalt's last scene with the Baron admitted a good deal of action and emphasis, and Mr. Rushworth undertook to count his speeches.

Mrs. Norris offered to contrive his dress, and Mr. Rushworth undertook to count his speeches.


"Perhaps," said Tom, "Fanny may be more disposed to oblige us now.


And not another word was said; but Fanny felt herself again in danger, and her indifference to the danger was beginning to fail her already.

Not another word was said; but Fanny felt herself again in danger, and her indifference to the danger was beginning to fail her already.


There were not fewer smiles at the Parsonage than at the Park on this change in Edmund; Miss Crawford looked very lovely in hers, and entered with such an instantaneous renewal of cheerfulness into the whole affair as could have but one effect on him.

Miss Crawford entered into the affair with such renewed cheerfulness as could have but one effect on Edmund.


"He was certainly right in respecting such feelings; he was glad he had determined on it."

"He was certainly right in respecting her feelings; he was glad he had determined on it."


And the morning wore away in satisfactions very sweet, if not very sound.


One advantage resulted from it to Fanny: at the earnest request of Miss Crawford, Mrs. Grant had, with her usual good-humour, agreed to undertake the part for which Fanny had been wanted; and this was all that occurred to gladden _her_ heart during the day; and even this, when imparted by Edmund, brought a pang with it, for it was Miss Crawford to whom she was obliged-it was Miss Crawford whose kind exertions were to excite her gratitude, and whose merit in making them was spoken of with a glow of admiration.

One advantage resulted to Fanny: at Miss Crawford's request, Mrs. Grant agreed to take the part for which Fanny had been wanted. Even this brought a pang, for it was Miss Crawford to whom she was obliged.


She was safe; but peace and safety were unconnected here.


Her mind had been never farther from peace.


She could not feel that she had done wrong herself, but she was disquieted in every other way.

She could not feel that she had done wrong, but she was disquieted in every other way.


Her heart and her judgment were equally against Edmund's decision: she could not acquit his unsteadiness, and his happiness under it made her wretched.

Her heart and her judgment were equally against Edmund's decision: she could not acquit his unsteadiness, and his happiness made her wretched.


Miss Crawford came with looks of gaiety which seemed an insult, with friendly expressions towards herself which she could hardly answer calmly.

Miss Crawford's looks of gaiety seemed an insult, and she could hardly answer her friendly expressions calmly.


Everybody around her was gay and busy, prosperous and important; each had their object of interest, their part, their dress, their favourite scene, their friends and confederates: all were finding employment in consultations and comparisons, or diversion in the playful conceits they suggested.

Everybody around her was busy and important; each had their part, their dress, their favourite scene, their friends: all were finding employment.


She alone was sad and insignificant: she had no share in anything; she might go or stay; she might be in the midst of their noise, or retreat from it to the solitude of the East room, without being seen or missed.

She alone was sad and insignificant: she had no share in anything; she might go or stay without being seen or missed.


She could almost think anything would have been preferable to this.


Mrs. Grant was of consequence: _her_ good-nature had honourable mention; her taste and her time were considered; her presence was wanted; she was sought for, and attended, and praised; and Fanny was at first in some danger of envying her the character she had accepted.

Mrs. Grant was of consequence: she was sought for, and attended, and praised; and Fanny was in some danger of envying her the character she had accepted.


But reflection brought better feelings, and shewed her that Mrs. Grant was entitled to respect, which could never have belonged to _her_; and that, had she received even the greatest, she could never have been easy in joining a scheme which, considering only her uncle, she must condemn altogether.

But reflection brought better feelings, and showed her that Mrs. Grant was entitled to respect which could never have belonged to her; and that she could never have supported a scheme which, considering her uncle, she must condemn.


Fanny's heart was not absolutely the only saddened one amongst them, as she soon began to acknowledge to herself.

Fanny's heart was not the only saddened one.


Julia was a sufferer too, though not quite so blamelessly.


Henry Crawford had trifled with her feelings; but she had very long allowed and even sought his attentions, with a jealousy of her sister so reasonable as ought to have been their cure; and now that the conviction of his preference for Maria had been forced on her, she submitted to it without any alarm for Maria's situation, or any endeavour at rational tranquillity for herself.

Henry Crawford had trifled with her feelings; but she had allowed his attentions, and now that his preference for Maria had been forced on her, she submitted to it without any alarm for Maria's situation, or any endeavour at tranquillity for herself.


She either sat in gloomy silence, wrapt in such gravity as nothing could subdue, no curiosity touch, no wit amuse; or allowing the attentions of Mr. Yates, was talking with forced gaiety to him alone, and ridiculing the acting of the others.

She either sat in gloomy silence; or, allowing the attentions of Mr. Yates, was talking with forced gaiety to him alone, and ridiculing the acting of the others.


For a day or two after the affront was given, Henry Crawford had endeavoured to do it away by the usual attack of gallantry and compliment, but he had not cared enough about it to persevere against a few repulses; and becoming soon too busy with his play to have time for more than one flirtation, he grew indifferent to the quarrel, or rather thought it a lucky occurrence, as quietly putting an end to what might ere long have raised expectations in more than Mrs. Grant.

For a day or two, Henry Crawford had endeavoured to do away the affront by the usual attack of gallantry and compliment, but he had not cared enough to persevere; and becoming too busy to have time for more than one flirtation, he grew indifferent to the quarrel, or rather thought it lucky in quietly putting an end to her expectations.


She was not pleased to see Julia excluded from the play, and sitting by disregarded; but as it was not a matter which really involved her happiness, as Henry must be the best judge of his own, and as he did assure her, with a most persuasive smile, that neither he nor Julia had ever had a serious thought of each other, she could only renew her former caution as to the elder sister, entreat him not to risk his tranquillity by too much admiration there, and then gladly take her share in anything that brought cheerfulness to the young people in general, and that did so particularly promote the pleasure of the two so dear to her.

He assured Mrs Grant, with a smile, that neither he nor Julia had ever had a serious thought of each other. She cautioned him as to the elder sister, entreating him not to risk too much admiration there.


"I rather wonder Julia is not in love with Henry," was her observation to Mary.


"I dare say she is," replied Mary coldly.


"You had better tell Miss Bertram to think of Mr. Rushworth.


I often think of Mr. Rushworth's property and independence, and wish them in other hands; but I never think of him.


A man might represent the county with such an estate; a man might escape a profession and represent the county."


"I dare say he _will_ be in parliament soon.


When Sir Thomas comes, I dare say he will be in for some borough, but there has been nobody to put him in the way of doing anything yet."

I dare say he will be in parliament soon, when Sir Thomas comes."


"Sir Thomas is to achieve many mighty things when he comes home," said Mary, after a pause.

"Sir Thomas is to achieve many mighty things when he comes home," said Mary.


"Do you remember Hawkins Browne's 'Address to Tobacco,' in imitation of Pope?-


whose aromatic gales dispense To Templars modesty, to Parsons sense.


whose dictatorial looks dispense To Children affluence, to Rushworth sense.


"Everything seems to depend upon Sir Thomas's return."


"You will find his consequence very just and reasonable when you see him in his family, I assure you.

"You will find his consequence very reasonable when you see him, I assure you.


I do not think we do so well without him.


He has a fine dignified manner, which suits the head of such a house, and keeps everybody in their place.

He has a fine dignified manner, which suits the head of such a house.


Lady Bertram seems more of a cipher now than when he is at home; and nobody else can keep Mrs. Norris in order.


But, Mary, do not fancy that Maria Bertram cares for Henry.


I am sure _Julia_ does not, or she would not have flirted as she did last night with Mr. Yates; and though he and Maria are very good friends, I think she likes Sotherton too well to be inconstant."

I am sure Julia does not, or she would not have flirted as she did last night with Mr. Yates; and though he and Maria are very good friends, I think she likes Sotherton too well to be inconstant."


"I would not give much for Mr. Rushworth's chance if Henry stept in before the articles were signed."

"I would not give much for Mr. Rushworth's chance if Henry stepped in."


"If you have such a suspicion, something must be done; and as soon as the play is all over, we will talk to him seriously and make him know his own mind; and if he means nothing, we will send him off, though he is Henry, for a time."

"If you have such a suspicion, something must be done; and as soon as the play is all over, we will talk to him seriously; and if he means nothing, we will send him off, though he is Henry, for a time."


Julia _did_ suffer, however, though Mrs. Grant discerned it not, and though it escaped the notice of many of her own family likewise.


She had loved, she did love still, and she had all the suffering which a warm temper and a high spirit were likely to endure under the disappointment of a dear, though irrational hope, with a strong sense of ill-usage.

She had loved, she did love still; and she was suffering under the disappointment of a dear, though irrational hope, and a strong sense of ill-usage.


Her heart was sore and angry, and she was capable only of angry consolations.


The sister with whom she was used to be on easy terms was now become her greatest enemy: they were alienated from each other; and Julia was not superior to the hope of some distressing end to the attentions which were still carrying on there, some punishment to Maria for conduct so shameful towards herself as well as towards Mr. Rushworth.

Her sister was now become her greatest enemy: and Julia was not above hoping for some distressing end to the attentions which were still carrying on.


With no material fault of temper, or difference of opinion, to prevent their being very good friends while their interests were the same, the sisters, under such a trial as this, had not affection or principle enough to make them merciful or just, to give them honour or compassion.

The sisters had not affection or principle enough to give them honour or compassion.


Maria felt her triumph, and pursued her purpose, careless of Julia; and Julia could never see Maria distinguished by Henry Crawford without trusting that it would create jealousy, and bring a public disturbance at last.

Maria felt her triumph, and pursued her purpose, careless of Julia; and Julia trusted that there would be punishment for Maria at last.


Fanny saw and pitied much of this in Julia; but there was no outward fellowship between them.


Julia made no communication, and Fanny took no liberties.


They were two solitary sufferers, or connected only by Fanny's consciousness.


The inattention of the two brothers and the aunt to Julia's discomposure, and their blindness to its true cause, must be imputed to the fullness of their own minds.

The blindness of the two brothers and their aunt to this must be imputed to the fullness of their own minds.


Tom was engrossed by the concerns of his theatre, and saw nothing that did not immediately relate to it.

Tom was engrossed by the concerns of his theatre.


Edmund, between his theatrical and his real part, between Miss Crawford's claims and his own conduct, between love and consistency, was equally unobservant; and Mrs. Norris was too busy in contriving and directing the general little matters of the company, superintending their various dresses with economical expedient, for which nobody thanked her, and saving, with delighted integrity, half a crown here and there to the absent Sir Thomas, to have leisure for watching the behaviour, or guarding the happiness of his daughters.

Edmund, with Miss Crawford's claims, was equally unobservant; and Mrs. Norris was too busy in directing little matters, and saving half a crown here and there for the absent Sir Thomas, to have leisure for watching the behaviour, or guarding the happiness of his daughters.


Fanny had by no means forgotten Mr. Crawford when she awoke the next morning; but she remembered the purport of her note, and was not less sanguine as to its effect than she had been the night before.

Fanny had not forgotten Mr. Crawford when she awoke the next morning; but she was still sanguine as to its effect of her note.


That was what she most earnestly desired: go and take his sister with him, as he was to do, and as he returned to Mansfield on purpose to do.

That was what she most earnestly desired: go and take his sister with him, as he had intended.


And why it was not done already she could not devise, for Miss Crawford certainly wanted no delay.

And why it was not done already she could not think.


Fanny had hoped, in the course of his yesterday's visit, to hear the day named; but he had only spoken of their journey as what would take place ere long.


Having so satisfactorily settled the conviction her note would convey, she could not but be astonished to see Mr. Crawford, as she accidentally did, coming up to the house again, and at an hour as early as the day before.

She was astonished to see Mr. Crawford coming up to the house again, at an hour as early as the day before.


His coming might have nothing to do with her, but she must avoid seeing him if possible; and being then on her way upstairs, she resolved there to remain, during the whole of his visit, unless actually sent for; and as Mrs. Norris was still in the house, there seemed little danger of her being wanted.

His coming might have nothing to do with her, but she must avoid seeing him if possible; and she resolved to remain upstairs during his visit, unless actually sent for.


She sat some time in a good deal of agitation, listening, trembling, and fearing to be sent for every moment; but as no footsteps approached the East room, she grew gradually composed, could sit down, and be able to employ herself, and able to hope that Mr. Crawford had come and would go without her being obliged to know anything of the matter.

She sat some time in a good deal of agitation, listening, trembling, and fearing to be sent for every moment; but as no footsteps approached the East room, she grew gradually composed, and was able to employ herself, and to hope that Mr. Crawford would go without her being obliged to know anything of the matter.


Nearly half an hour had passed, and she was growing very comfortable, when suddenly the sound of a step in regular approach was heard; a heavy step, an unusual step in that part of the house: it was her uncle's; she knew it as well as his voice; she had trembled at it as often, and began to tremble again, at the idea of his coming up to speak to her, whatever might be the subject.

Nearly half an hour had passed, and she was growing very comfortable, when suddenly the sound of a heavy step was heard, an unusual step in that part of the house. It was her uncle's; and she began to tremble at the idea of his coming up to speak to her.


It was indeed Sir Thomas who opened the door and asked if she were there, and if he might come in.

It was indeed Sir Thomas who opened the door and asked if he might come in.


The terror of his former occasional visits to that room seemed all renewed, and she felt as if he were going to examine her again in French and English.


She was all attention, however, in placing a chair for him, and trying to appear honoured; and, in her agitation, had quite overlooked the deficiencies of her apartment, till he, stopping short as he entered, said, with much surprise, "Why have you no fire to-day?"

She was all attention, however, in placing a chair for him, and trying to appear honoured. Stopping short as he entered, he said, with much surprise, "Why have you no fire to-day?"


There was snow on the ground, and she was sitting in a shawl.


"I am not cold, sir: I never sit here long at this time of year."


I understood that you had the use of this room by way of making you perfectly comfortable.

I understood that you had the use of this room by way of making you comfortable.


In your bedchamber I know you _cannot_ have a fire.


Here is some great misapprehension which must be rectified.


It is highly unfit for you to sit, be it only half an hour a day, without a fire.


Fanny would rather have been silent; but being obliged to speak, she could not forbear, in justice to the aunt she loved best, from saying something in which the words "my aunt Norris" were distinguishable.

Fanny would rather have been silent; but being obliged to speak, she could not refrain, in justice to the aunt she loved best, from saying something about "my aunt Norris".


"I understand," cried her uncle, recollecting himself, and not wanting to hear more: "I understand.


Your aunt Norris has always been an advocate, and very judiciously, for young people's being brought up without unnecessary indulgences; but there should be moderation in everything.

Your aunt Norris has always advised young people's being brought up without unnecessary indulgences; but there should be moderation in everything.


She is also very hardy herself, which of course will influence her in her opinion of the wants of others.

She is also very hardy herself, and so course expects others to be likewise.


And on another account, too, I can perfectly comprehend.


I know what her sentiments have always been.


The principle was good in itself, but it may have been, and I believe _has_ _been_, carried too far in your case.


I am aware that there has been sometimes, in some points, a misplaced distinction; but I think too well of you, Fanny, to suppose you will ever harbour resentment on that account.

I am aware that there has been sometimes a misplaced distinction between you and your cousins; but I think too well of you, Fanny, to suppose you will ever harbour resentment on that account.


You have an understanding which will prevent you from receiving things only in part, and judging partially by the event.


You will take in the whole of the past, you will consider times, persons, and probabilities, and you will feel that _they_ were not least your friends who were educating and preparing you for that mediocrity of condition which _seemed_ to be your lot.

You know that your friends were preparing you for that mediocrity of condition which seemed to be your lot.


Though their caution may prove eventually unnecessary, it was kindly meant; and of this you may be assured, that every advantage of affluence will be doubled by the little privations and restrictions that may have been imposed.

Though their caution may prove eventually unnecessary, it was kindly meant.


I am sure you will not disappoint my opinion of you, by failing at any time to treat your aunt Norris with the respect and attention that are due to her.


I must speak to you for a few minutes, but I will not detain you long."

I must speak to you, but I will not detain you long."


Fanny obeyed, with eyes cast down and colour rising.


After a moment's pause, Sir Thomas, trying to suppress a smile, went on.


"You are not aware, perhaps, that I have had a visitor this morning.


I had not been long in my own room, after breakfast, when Mr. Crawford was shewn in.

Not long after breakfast, Mr. Crawford was shown in.


His errand you may probably conjecture."


Fanny's colour grew deeper and deeper; and her uncle, perceiving that she was embarrassed to a degree that made either speaking or looking up quite impossible, turned away his own eyes, and without any farther pause proceeded in his account of Mr. Crawford's visit.

Fanny's colour grew deeper; and her uncle, perceiving her great embarrassment, turned away his own eyes, and proceeded in his account of Mr. Crawford's visit.


Mr. Crawford's business had been to declare himself the lover of Fanny, make decided proposals for her, and entreat the sanction of the uncle, who seemed to stand in the place of her parents; and he had done it all so well, so openly, so liberally, so properly, that Sir Thomas, feeling, moreover, his own replies, and his own remarks to have been very much to the purpose, was exceedingly happy to give the particulars of their conversation; and little aware of what was passing in his niece's mind, conceived that by such details he must be gratifying her far more than himself.

Mr. Crawford's business had been to declare himself the lover of Fanny, make decided proposals for her, and ask the blessing of the uncle, who seemed to stand in the place of her parents; and he had done it all so well, so properly, that Sir Thomas was happy to give the details of their conversation. Unaware of what was passing in his niece's mind, he thought that he must be gratifying her.


He talked, therefore, for several minutes without Fanny's daring to interrupt him.


She had hardly even attained the wish to do it.


She had changed her position; and, with her eyes fixed intently on one of the windows, was listening to her uncle in the utmost perturbation and dismay.

With her eyes fixed intently on one of the windows, she listened to her uncle in the utmost perturbation and dismay.


For a moment he ceased, but she had barely become conscious of it, when, rising from his chair, he said, "And now, Fanny, having performed one part of my commission, and shewn you everything placed on a basis the most assured and satisfactory, I may execute the remainder by prevailing on you to accompany me downstairs, where, though I cannot but presume on having been no unacceptable companion myself, I must submit to your finding one still better worth listening to.

Rising from his chair, he said, "And now, Fanny, having performed one part of my commission, I may execute the remainder by asking you to accompany me downstairs, where you may find a companion still better worth listening to.


Mr. Crawford, as you have perhaps foreseen, is yet in the house.


He is in my room, and hoping to see you there."


There was a look, a start, an exclamation on hearing this, which astonished Sir Thomas; but what was his increase of astonishment on hearing her exclaim-"Oh!

There was a look, a start on hearing this, which astonished Sir Thomas; but his astonishment increased on hearing her exclaim-"Oh!


no, sir, I cannot, indeed I cannot go down to him.

no, sir, indeed I cannot go down to him.


Mr. Crawford ought to know-he must know that: I told him enough yesterday to convince him; he spoke to me on this subject yesterday, and I told him without disguise that it was very disagreeable to me, and quite out of my power to return his good opinion."

Mr. Crawford must know that: he spoke to me on this subject yesterday, and I told him that it was very disagreeable to me, and quite out of my power to return his good opinion."


"I do not catch your meaning," said Sir Thomas, sitting down again.


"Out of your power to return his good opinion?


I know he spoke to you yesterday, and (as far as I understand) received as much encouragement to proceed as a well-judging young woman could permit herself to give.

I know he spoke to you yesterday, and (as I understand) received as much encouragement as a well-judging young woman could permit herself to give.


I was very much pleased with what I collected to have been your behaviour on the occasion; it shewed a discretion highly to be commended.

I was very much pleased with your behaviour on the occasion; it showed a commendable discretion.


But now, when he has made his overtures so properly, and honourably-what are your scruples _now_?"

But now, when he has made his overtures so properly-what are your scruples now?"


"You are mistaken, sir," cried Fanny, forced by the anxiety of the moment even to tell her uncle that he was wrong; "you are quite mistaken.

"You are mistaken, sir," cried Fanny, forced by her anxiety even to tell her uncle that he was wrong; "you are quite mistaken.


How could Mr. Crawford say such a thing?


On the contrary, I told him, I cannot recollect my exact words, but I am sure I told him that I would not listen to him, that it was very unpleasant to me in every respect, and that I begged him never to talk to me in that manner again.


I am sure I said as much as that and more; and I should have said still more, if I had been quite certain of his meaning anything seriously; but I did not like to be, I could not bear to be, imputing more than might be intended.

I should have said more, if I had been quite certain of his meaning anything seriously; but I did not like to be imputing more than might be intended.


I thought it might all pass for nothing with _him_."

I thought it might all pass for nothing with him."


She could say no more; her breath was almost gone.


"Am I to understand," said Sir Thomas, after a few moments' silence, "that you mean to _refuse_ Mr. Crawford?"

"Am I to understand," said Sir Thomas, after a few moments' silence, "that you mean to refuse Mr. Crawford?"


"I-I cannot like him, sir, well enough to marry him."


said Sir Thomas, in a voice of calm displeasure.


"There is something in this which my comprehension does not reach.


Here is a young man wishing to pay his addresses to you, with everything to recommend him: not merely situation in life, fortune, and character, but with more than common agreeableness, with address and conversation pleasing to everybody.

"Here is a young man wishing to pay his addresses to you, with everything to recommend him: situation, fortune, and character, with more than common agreeableness, with address and conversation pleasing to everybody.


And he is not an acquaintance of to-day; you have now known him some time.


His sister, moreover, is your intimate friend, and he has been doing _that_ for your brother, which I should suppose would have been almost sufficient recommendation to you, had there been no other.

His sister, moreover, is your intimate friend, and he has done that for your brother, which might have been almost sufficient recommendation to you, had there been no other."


It is very uncertain when my interest might have got William on.


"Yes," said Fanny, in a faint voice, and looking down with fresh shame; and she did feel almost ashamed of herself, after such a picture as her uncle had drawn, for not liking Mr. Crawford.

"Yes," said Fanny, in a faint voice, and looking down with fresh shame.


"You must have been aware," continued Sir Thomas presently, "you must have been some time aware of a particularity in Mr. Crawford's manners to you.

"You must have been aware," continued Sir Thomas, "of a particularity in Mr. Crawford's manners to you.


You must have observed his attentions; and though you always received them very properly (I have no accusation to make on that head), I never perceived them to be unpleasant to you.

You must have observed his attentions; and though you always received them very properly, I never perceived them to be unpleasant to you.


I am half inclined to think, Fanny, that you do not quite know your own feelings."

I am half inclined to think, Fanny, that you do not know your own feelings."


His attentions were always-what I did not like."


Sir Thomas looked at her with deeper surprise.


Young as you are, and having seen scarcely any one, it is hardly possible that your affections-"


He saw her lips formed into a _no_, though the sound was inarticulate, but her face was like scarlet.

He saw her lips formed into a no, though the sound was inarticulate, but her face was like scarlet.


That, however, in so modest a girl, might be very compatible with innocence; and chusing at least to appear satisfied, he quickly added, "No, no, I know _that_ is quite out of the question; quite impossible.

That, however, in so modest a girl, might be very compatible with innocence; and choosing at least to appear satisfied, he quickly added, "No, no, I know that is quite out of the question.


Well, there is nothing more to be said."


And for a few minutes he did say nothing.


His niece was deep in thought likewise, trying to harden and prepare herself against farther questioning.


She would rather die than own the truth; and she hoped, by a little reflection, to fortify herself beyond betraying it.

She would rather die than own the truth; and she hoped to fortify herself beyond betraying it.


"Independently of the interest which Mr. Crawford's _choice_ seemed to justify" said Sir Thomas, beginning again, and very composedly, "his wishing to marry at all so early is recommendatory to me.

"Quite apart from Mr. Crawford's choice," said Sir Thomas, beginning again, very composedly, "his wishing to marry so early is commendable.


I am an advocate for early marriages, where there are means in proportion, and would have every young man, with a sufficient income, settle as soon after four-and-twenty as he can.

I am an advocate for early marriages, and would have every young man, with a sufficient income, settle as soon after four-and-twenty as he can.


This is so much my opinion, that I am sorry to think how little likely my own eldest son, your cousin, Mr. Bertram, is to marry early; but at present, as far as I can judge, matrimony makes no part of his plans or thoughts.

I am sorry to think how unlikely my own eldest son, Mr. Bertram, is to marry early; but at present, as far as I can judge, matrimony makes no part of his plans.


"Edmund, I consider, from his dispositions and habits, as much more likely to marry early than his brother.

"Edmund, I consider as much more likely to marry early than his brother.


_He_, indeed, I have lately thought, has seen the woman he could love, which, I am convinced, my eldest son has not.

He, indeed, I have lately thought, has seen the woman he could love, which, I am convinced, my eldest son has not.


It was gently, but it was calmly said, and Sir Thomas was easy on the score of the cousins.


But the removal of his alarm did his niece no service: as her unaccountableness was confirmed his displeasure increased; and getting up and walking about the room with a frown, which Fanny could picture to herself, though she dared not lift up her eyes, he shortly afterwards, and in a voice of authority, said, "Have you any reason, child, to think ill of Mr. Crawford's temper?"

But with the removal of his alarm, his displeasure increased; and getting up and walking about with a frown, he said in a voice of authority, "Have you any reason, child, to think ill of Mr. Crawford's temper?"


She longed to add, "But of his principles I have"; but her heart sunk under the appalling prospect of discussion, explanation, and probably non-conviction.


Her ill opinion of him was founded chiefly on observations, which, for her cousins' sake, she could scarcely dare mention to their father.

Her ill opinion of him was founded chiefly on observations, which, for her cousins' sake, she could scarcely mention to their father.


Maria and Julia, and especially Maria, were so closely implicated in Mr. Crawford's misconduct, that she could not give his character, such as she believed it, without betraying them.

Maria and Julia, especially Maria, were so closely implicated in Mr. Crawford's misconduct, that she could not speak of it without betraying them.


She had hoped that, to a man like her uncle, so discerning, so honourable, so good, the simple acknowledgment of settled _dislike_ on her side would have been sufficient.

She had hoped that, to a man like her uncle, so discerning, so honourable, so good, the simple acknowledgment of settled dislike on her side would have been sufficient.


To her infinite grief she found it was not.


Sir Thomas came towards the table where she sat in trembling wretchedness, and with a good deal of cold sternness, said, "It is of no use, I perceive, to talk to you.

Sir Thomas came towards the table where she sat trembling, and with cold sternness, said, "It is of no use, I perceive, to talk to you.


We had better put an end to this most mortifying conference.

We had better put an end to this mortifying conference.


Mr. Crawford must not be kept longer waiting.


I will, therefore, only add, as thinking it my duty to mark my opinion of your conduct, that you have disappointed every expectation I had formed, and proved yourself of a character the very reverse of what I had supposed.

I will, therefore, only add that you have disappointed every expectation I had formed, and proved your character the very reverse of what I had supposed.


For I _had_, Fanny, as I think my behaviour must have shewn, formed a very favourable opinion of you from the period of my return to England.

For I had, Fanny, formed a very favourable opinion of you since my return to England.


I had thought you peculiarly free from wilfulness of temper, self-conceit, and every tendency to that independence of spirit which prevails so much in modern days, even in young women, and which in young women is offensive and disgusting beyond all common offence.

I had thought you free from wilfulness of temper, self-conceit, and that modern independence of spirit which is so disgusting in young women.


But you have now shewn me that you can be wilful and perverse; that you can and will decide for yourself, without any consideration or deference for those who have surely some right to guide you, without even asking their advice.

But you have now shown me that you can be wilful and perverse; that you can and will decide for yourself, without any deference to those who have surely some right to guide you, without even asking their advice.


You have shewn yourself very, very different from anything that I had imagined.

You have shown yourself very, very different from anything that I had imagined.


The advantage or disadvantage of your family, of your parents, your brothers and sisters, never seems to have had a moment's share in your thoughts on this occasion.

Your brothers and sisters seem never to have had a moment's share in your thoughts.


How _they_ might be benefited, how _they_ must rejoice in such an establishment for you, is nothing to _you_.

How they might be benefited is nothing to you.


You think only of yourself, and because you do not feel for Mr. Crawford exactly what a young heated fancy imagines to be necessary for happiness, you resolve to refuse him at once, without wishing even for a little time to consider of it, a little more time for cool consideration, and for really examining your own inclinations; and are, in a wild fit of folly, throwing away from you such an opportunity of being settled in life, eligibly, honourably, nobly settled, as will, probably, never occur to you again.

You think only of yourself, and because you do not feel for Mr. Crawford exactly what a young heated fancy imagines to be necessary for happiness, you resolve to refuse him at once, without wishing even for a little time to consider. You are, in a wild fit of folly, throwing away such an opportunity as will probably never occur to you again.


Here is a young man of sense, of character, of temper, of manners, and of fortune, exceedingly attached to you, and seeking your hand in the most handsome and disinterested way; and let me tell you, Fanny, that you may live eighteen years longer in the world without being addressed by a man of half Mr. Crawford's estate, or a tenth part of his merits.

Here is a young man of sense, of character, of manners, and of fortune, exceedingly attached to you, and seeking your hand in the most handsome way; and let me tell you, Fanny, that you may live eighteen years longer without being addressed by a man of half Mr. Crawford's estate, or a tenth part of his merits.


Gladly would I have bestowed either of my own daughters on him.


Maria is nobly married; but had Mr. Crawford sought Julia's hand, I should have given it to him with superior and more heartfelt satisfaction than I gave Maria's to Mr. Rushworth."

Maria is nobly married; but had Mr. Crawford sought Julia's hand, I should have given it to him with more heartfelt satisfaction than I gave Maria's to Mr. Rushworth."


After half a moment's pause: "And I should have been very much surprised had either of my daughters, on receiving a proposal of marriage at any time which might carry with it only _half_ the eligibility of _this_, immediately and peremptorily, and without paying my opinion or my regard the compliment of any consultation, put a decided negative on it.

After half a moment's pause: "And I should have been very much surprised had either of my daughters, on receiving a proposal of marriage half as eligible as this, peremptorily decided against it without any consultation.


I should have been much surprised and much hurt by such a proceeding.

I should have been much hurt by such a proceeding.


I should have thought it a gross violation of duty and respect.


_You_ are not to be judged by the same rule.

You are not to be judged by the same rule.


But, Fanny, if your heart can acquit you of _ingratitude_-"

But, Fanny, if your heart can acquit you of ingratitude-"


Fanny was by this time crying so bitterly that, angry as he was, he would not press that article farther.

Fanny was by this time crying so bitterly that, angry as he was, he would not press farther.


Her heart was almost broke by such a picture of what she appeared to him; by such accusations, so heavy, so multiplied, so rising in dreadful gradation!

Her heart was almost broke by such accusations, so heavy, so multiplied, so dreadful!


Self-willed, obstinate, selfish, and ungrateful.


She had deceived his expectations; she had lost his good opinion.


"I am very sorry," said she inarticulately, through her tears, "I am very sorry indeed."


yes, I hope you are sorry; and you will probably have reason to be long sorry for this day's transactions."


"If it were possible for me to do otherwise" said she, with another strong effort; "but I am so perfectly convinced that I could never make him happy, and that I should be miserable myself."


Another burst of tears; but in spite of that burst, and in spite of that great black word _miserable_, which served to introduce it, Sir Thomas began to think a little relenting, a little change of inclination, might have something to do with it; and to augur favourably from the personal entreaty of the young man himself.

Another burst of tears; but in spite of that burst, Sir Thomas began to think a little relenting might have something to do with it.


He knew her to be very timid, and exceedingly nervous; and thought it not improbable that her mind might be in such a state as a little time, a little pressing, a little patience, and a little impatience, a judicious mixture of all on the lover's side, might work their usual effect on.

He knew her to be very timid, and exceedingly nervous; and thought a little pressing and patience on the lover's side might work their effect on her, if the gentleman would but persevere.


If the gentleman would but persevere, if he had but love enough to persevere, Sir Thomas began to have hopes; and these reflections having passed across his mind and cheered it, "Well," said he, in a tone of becoming gravity, but of less anger, "well, child, dry up your tears.

These reflections having cheered Sir Thomas, "Well," said he, with gravity, but less anger, "well, child, dry up your tears.


There is no use in these tears; they can do no good.


Mr. Crawford has been kept waiting too long already.


You must give him your own answer: we cannot expect him to be satisfied with less; and you only can explain to him the grounds of that misconception of your sentiments, which, unfortunately for himself, he certainly has imbibed.


But Fanny shewed such reluctance, such misery, at the idea of going down to him, that Sir Thomas, after a little consideration, judged it better to indulge her.

But Fanny showed such reluctance, such misery, at the idea of going down to him, that Sir Thomas judged it better to indulge her.


His hopes from both gentleman and lady suffered a small depression in consequence; but when he looked at his niece, and saw the state of feature and complexion which her crying had brought her into, he thought there might be as much lost as gained by an immediate interview.

When he looked at his niece, and saw the state which her crying had brought her into, he thought there might be as much lost as gained by an immediate interview.


With a few words, therefore, of no particular meaning, he walked off by himself, leaving his poor niece to sit and cry over what had passed, with very wretched feelings.

He walked off by himself, therefore, leaving his poor niece to sit and cry over what had passed, with very wretched feelings.


The past, present, future, everything was terrible.


But her uncle's anger gave her the severest pain of all.


She had no one to take her part, to counsel, or speak for her.


He might have softened his father; but all, perhaps all, would think her selfish and ungrateful.

Edmund might have softened his father; but perhaps all would think her selfish and ungrateful.


She might have to endure the reproach again and again; she might hear it, or see it, or know it to exist for ever in every connexion about her.

She might have to endure the reproach again and again.


She could not but feel some resentment against Mr. Crawford; yet, if he really loved her, and were unhappy too!

She could not help feeling some resentment against Mr. Crawford; yet, if he really loved her, and were unhappy too!


In about a quarter of an hour her uncle returned; she was almost ready to faint at the sight of him.


He spoke calmly, however, without austerity, without reproach, and she revived a little.

He spoke calmly, however, without reproach, and she revived a little.


There was comfort, too, in his words, as well as his manner, for he began with, "Mr. Crawford is gone: he has just left me.

There was comfort, too, in his words, for he began with, "Mr. Crawford has just left me.


I do not want to add to anything you may now be feeling, by an account of what he has felt.


Suffice it, that he has behaved in the most gentlemanlike and generous manner, and has confirmed me in a most favourable opinion of his understanding, heart, and temper.

Suffice it, that he has behaved in the most gentlemanlike manner, and has confirmed me in a most favourable opinion of his heart and temper.


Upon my representation of what you were suffering, he immediately, and with the greatest delicacy, ceased to urge to see you for the present."

Upon hearing what you were suffering, he immediately ceased to urge to see you for the present."


Here Fanny, who had looked up, looked down again.


"Of course," continued her uncle, "it cannot be supposed but that he should request to speak with you alone, be it only for five minutes; a request too natural, a claim too just to be denied.

"Of course," continued her uncle, "he requested to speak with you alone, if only for five minutes; a request too natural to be denied.


But there is no time fixed; perhaps to-morrow, or whenever your spirits are composed enough.


For the present you have only to tranquillise yourself.


Check these tears; they do but exhaust you.


If, as I am willing to suppose, you wish to shew me any observance, you will not give way to these emotions, but endeavour to reason yourself into a stronger frame of mind.

If you wish to please me, you will not give way to these emotions, but try to reason yourself into a stronger frame of mind.


I advise you to go out: the air will do you good; go out for an hour on the gravel; you will have the shrubbery to yourself, and will be the better for air and exercise.

I advise you to go out for an hour: the air will do you good; you will have the shrubbery to yourself, and will be the better for exercise.


And, Fanny" (turning back again for a moment), "I shall make no mention below of what has passed; I shall not even tell your aunt Bertram.

And, Fanny, I shall make no mention below of what has passed; I shall not even tell your aunt Bertram.


There is no occasion for spreading the disappointment; say nothing about it yourself."


This was an order to be most joyfully obeyed; this was an act of kindness which Fanny felt at her heart.

This was a kindness which Fanny felt at her heart.


To be spared from her aunt Norris's interminable reproaches!


Anything might be bearable rather than such reproaches.


Even to see Mr. Crawford would be less overpowering.


She walked out directly, as her uncle recommended, and followed his advice throughout, as far as she could; did check her tears; did earnestly try to compose her spirits and strengthen her mind.

She walked out as her uncle recommended, and followed his advice; did check her tears; did earnestly try to compose her spirits and strengthen her mind.


She wished to prove to him that she did desire his comfort, and sought to regain his favour; and he had given her another strong motive for exertion, in keeping the whole affair from the knowledge of her aunts.

She wished to prove to him that she sought to regain his favour; and he had given her another strong motive for exertion, in keeping the whole affair from the knowledge of her aunts.


Not to excite suspicion by her look or manner was now an object worth attaining; and she felt equal to almost anything that might save her from her aunt Norris.

Not to excite suspicion by her manner was an object worth attaining; and she felt equal to almost anything that might save her from her aunt Norris.


She was struck, quite struck, when, on returning from her walk and going into the East room again, the first thing which caught her eye was a fire lighted and burning.

She was struck, when, on returning from her walk and going into the East room, the first thing which caught her eye was a fire burning.


it seemed too much; just at that time to be giving her such an indulgence was exciting even painful gratitude.

to be giving her such an indulgence at that time was too much.


She wondered that Sir Thomas could have leisure to think of such a trifle again; but she soon found, from the voluntary information of the housemaid, who came in to attend it, that so it was to be every day.

She wondered that Sir Thomas could have leisure to think of such a trifle; but she soon found, from the housemaid, that so it was to be every day.


"I must be a brute, indeed, if I can be really ungrateful!"


"Heaven defend me from being ungrateful!"


She saw nothing more of her uncle, nor of her aunt Norris, till they met at dinner.

She saw nothing more of her uncle, nor her aunt Norris, till dinner.


Her uncle's behaviour to her was then as nearly as possible what it had been before; she was sure he did not mean there should be any change, and that it was only her own conscience that could fancy any; but her aunt was soon quarrelling with her; and when she found how much and how unpleasantly her having only walked out without her aunt's knowledge could be dwelt on, she felt all the reason she had to bless the kindness which saved her from the same spirit of reproach, exerted on a more momentous subject.

Her uncle's behaviour to her was then as nearly as possible what it had been before; but her aunt was soon quarrelling with her; and when Fanny found how much and how unpleasantly her having only walked out without her aunt's knowledge could be dwelt on, she blessed the kindness which saved her from the same reproaches on a more momentous subject.


"If I had known you were going out, I should have got you just to go as far as my house with some orders for Nanny," said she, "which I have since, to my very great inconvenience, been obliged to go and carry myself.

"If I had known you were going out, I should have got you to go to my house with some orders," said her aunt, "which I have since, to my very great inconvenience, been obliged to go and carry myself.


I could very ill spare the time, and you might have saved me the trouble, if you would only have been so good as to let us know you were going out.


It would have made no difference to you, I suppose, whether you had walked in the shrubbery or gone to my house."


"I recommended the shrubbery to Fanny as the driest place," said Sir Thomas.


said Mrs. Norris, with a moment's check, "that was very kind of you, Sir Thomas; but you do not know how dry the path is to my house.


Fanny would have had quite as good a walk there, I assure you, with the advantage of being of some use, and obliging her aunt: it is all her fault.


If she would but have let us know she was going out but there is a something about Fanny, I have often observed it before-she likes to go her own way to work; she does not like to be dictated to; she takes her own independent walk whenever she can; she certainly has a little spirit of secrecy, and independence, and nonsense, about her, which I would advise her to get the better of."

If she would only have let us know she was going out-but there is a something about Fanny, I have often observed it before-she likes to go her own way; she does not like to be dictated to; she takes her own independent walk whenever she can; she certainly has a little spirit of secrecy, and nonsense, about her, which I would advise her to get the better of."


As a general reflection on Fanny, Sir Thomas thought nothing could be more unjust, though he had been so lately expressing the same sentiments himself, and he tried to turn the conversation: tried repeatedly before he could succeed; for Mrs. Norris had not discernment enough to perceive, either now, or at any other time, to what degree he thought well of his niece, or how very far he was from wishing to have his own children's merits set off by the depreciation of hers.

Sir Thomas thought nothing could be more unjust to Fanny, though he had been so lately expressing the same sentiments himself, and he tried repeatedly to turn the conversation: but Mrs. Norris had not discernment enough to perceive how well he thought of his niece.


She was talking _at_ Fanny, and resenting this private walk half through the dinner.

She was talking at Fanny, and resenting this private walk through half the dinner.


It was over, however, at last; and the evening set in with more composure to Fanny, and more cheerfulness of spirits than she could have hoped for after so stormy a morning; but she trusted, in the first place, that she had done right: that her judgment had not misled her.

It was over, however, at last; and the evening brought more composure to Fanny than she could have hoped for. She trusted that she had done right: that her judgment had not misled her.


For the purity of her intentions she could answer; and she was willing to hope, secondly, that her uncle's displeasure was abating, and would abate farther as he considered the matter with more impartiality, and felt, as a good man must feel, how wretched, and how unpardonable, how hopeless, and how wicked it was to marry without affection.

She was sure of the purity of her intentions; and she hoped that her uncle's displeasure was abating, and would abate farther as he considered the matter, and felt, as a good man must feel, how wretched, how unpardonable, how hopeless, and how wicked it was to marry without affection.


When the meeting with which she was threatened for the morrow was past, she could not but flatter herself that the subject would be finally concluded, and Mr. Crawford once gone from Mansfield, that everything would soon be as if no such subject had existed.

When the threatened meeting with Mr Crawford was past, the subject would be finally concluded, and once Mr. Crawford was gone from Mansfield, everything would soon be as if no such subject had existed.


She would not, could not believe, that Mr. Crawford's affection for her could distress him long; his mind was not of that sort.

She could not believe that Mr. Crawford's affection for her could distress him long.


In London he would soon learn to wonder at his infatuation, and be thankful for the right reason in her which had saved him from its evil consequences.

In London he would learn to wonder at his infatuation.


While Fanny's mind was engaged in these sort of hopes, her uncle was, soon after tea, called out of the room; an occurrence too common to strike her, and she thought nothing of it till the butler reappeared ten minutes afterwards, and advancing decidedly towards herself, said, "Sir Thomas wishes to speak with you, ma'am, in his own room."

While Fanny's mind was engaged in these hopes, her uncle was called out of the room; she thought nothing of it till the butler reappeared, and advancing towards her, said, "Sir Thomas wishes to speak with you, ma'am, in his own room."


Then it occurred to her what might be going on; a suspicion rushed over her mind which drove the colour from her cheeks; but instantly rising, she was preparing to obey, when Mrs. Norris called out, "Stay, stay, Fanny!

Then a suspicion rushed over her mind which drove the colour from her cheeks.
Instantly rising, she was preparing to obey, when Mrs. Norris called out, "Stay, Fanny!


Depend upon it, it is not you who are wanted; depend upon it, it is me" (looking at the butler); "but you are so very eager to put yourself forward.

Depend upon it, it is not you who are wanted, but me. You are very eager to put yourself forward.


It is me, Baddeley, you mean; I am coming this moment.


You mean me, Baddeley, I am sure; Sir Thomas wants me, not Miss Price."

You mean me, Baddeley, I am sure; not Miss Price."


"No, ma'am, it is Miss Price; I am certain of its being Miss Price."

"No, ma'am, I am certain of its being Miss Price."


And there was a half-smile with the words, which meant, "I do not think you would answer the purpose at all."


Mrs. Norris, much discontented, was obliged to compose herself to work again; and Fanny, walking off in agitating consciousness, found herself, as she anticipated, in another minute alone with Mr. Crawford.

Mrs. Norris was much discontented; and Fanny, walking off in agitation, found herself in another minute alone with Mr. Crawford.


Henry Crawford had quite made up his mind by the next morning to give another fortnight to Mansfield, and having sent for his hunters, and written a few lines of explanation to the Admiral, he looked round at his sister as he sealed and threw the letter from him, and seeing the coast clear of the rest of the family, said, with a smile, "And how do you think I mean to amuse myself, Mary, on the days that I do not hunt?

Henry Crawford had made up his mind by the next morning to give another fortnight to Mansfield. Having sent for his hunters, he looked round at his sister, and said, with a smile, "How do you think I mean to amuse myself, Mary, on the days that I do not hunt?"


I am grown too old to go out more than three times a week; but I have a plan for the intermediate days, and what do you think it is?"


"Not exactly, though I shall be happy to do both, but _that_ would be exercise only to my body, and I must take care of my mind.

"Not exactly, though I shall be happy to do both, but that


Besides, _that_ would be all recreation and indulgence, without the wholesome alloy of labour, and I do not like to eat the bread of idleness.

would be all recreation, without the wholesome alloy of labour, and I do not like to eat the bread of idleness.


No, my plan is to make Fanny Price in love with me."


You ought to be satisfied with her two cousins."


"But I cannot be satisfied without Fanny Price, without making a small hole in Fanny Price's heart.

"But I cannot be satisfied without making a small hole in Fanny Price's heart.


You do not seem properly aware of her claims to notice.


When we talked of her last night, you none of you seemed sensible of the wonderful improvement that has taken place in her looks within the last six weeks.

of the wonderful improvement that has taken place in her looks.


You see her every day, and therefore do not notice it; but I assure you she is quite a different creature from what she was in the autumn.


She was then merely a quiet, modest, not plain-looking girl, but she is now absolutely pretty.

She was then merely a quiet, modest girl, but she is now absolutely pretty.


I used to think she had neither complexion nor countenance; but in that soft skin of hers, so frequently tinged with a blush as it was yesterday, there is decided beauty; and from what I observed of her eyes and mouth, I do not despair of their being capable of expression enough when she has anything to express.

I used to think she had neither complexion nor countenance; but in that soft skin of hers, there is decided beauty; and I do not despair of her eyes being capable of expression when she has anything to express.


And then, her air, her manner, her _tout_ _ensemble_, is so indescribably improved!

And then, her air is so indescribably improved!