She was of use to no one else; but _there_ she might be missed to a degree that she did not like to think of; and that part of the arrangement was, indeed, the hardest for Sir Thomas to accomplish, and what only _he_ could have accomplished at all.

That part of the arrangement was, indeed, the hardest for Sir Thomas to accomplish.


When he had really resolved on any measure, he could always carry it through; and now by dint of long talking on the subject, explaining and dwelling on the duty of Fanny's sometimes seeing her family, he did induce his wife to let her go; obtaining it rather from submission, however, than conviction, for Lady Bertram was convinced of very little more than that Sir Thomas thought Fanny ought to go, and therefore that she must.

When he had really resolved on any measure, he could always carry it through; and now by dwelling on the duty of Fanny's sometimes seeing her family, he did induce his wife to let her go.


In the calmness of her own dressing-room, in the impartial flow of her own meditations, unbiassed by his bewildering statements, she could not acknowledge any necessity for Fanny's ever going near a father and mother who had done without her so long, while she was so useful to herself.


And as to the not missing her, which under Mrs. Norris's discussion was the point attempted to be proved, she set herself very steadily against admitting any such thing.


Sir Thomas had appealed to her reason, conscience, and dignity.


He called it a sacrifice, and demanded it of her goodness and self-command as such.


But Mrs. Norris wanted to persuade her that Fanny could be very well spared-_she_ being ready to give up all her own time to her as requested-and, in short, could not really be wanted or missed.


"That may be, sister," was all Lady Bertram's reply.


"I dare say you are very right; but I am sure I shall miss her very much."


The next step was to communicate with Portsmouth.


Fanny wrote to offer herself; and her mother's answer, though short, was so kind-a few simple lines expressed so natural and motherly a joy in the prospect of seeing her child again, as to confirm all the daughter's views of happiness in being with her-convincing her that she should now find a warm and affectionate friend in the "mama" who had certainly shewn no remarkable fondness for her formerly; but this she could easily suppose to have been her own fault or her own fancy.

Fanny wrote to offer herself; and her mother's answer, though short, was so kind as to confirm all the daughter's views of happiness in being with her-convincing her that she should now find a warm friend in the "mama" who had certainly shown no remarkable fondness for her formerly; but this she could easily suppose to have been her own fault.


She had probably alienated love by the helplessness and fretfulness of a fearful temper, or been unreasonable in wanting a larger share than any one among so many could deserve.

She had probably alienated love by fretfulness, or been unreasonable in wanting a larger share than one among so many could deserve.


Now, when she knew better how to be useful, and how to forbear, and when her mother could be no longer occupied by the incessant demands of a house full of little children, there would be leisure and inclination for every comfort, and they should soon be what mother and daughter ought to be to each other.

Now, when she knew better how to be useful, and when her mother could be no longer occupied by the incessant demands of a house full of little children, there would be leisure for every comfort, and they should soon be what mother and daughter ought to be to each other.


William was almost as happy in the plan as his sister.


It would be the greatest pleasure to him to have her there to the last moment before he sailed, and perhaps find her there still when he came in from his first cruise.

It would be the greatest pleasure to have her there to the last moment before he sailed, and perhaps find her there still when he came in from his first cruise.


And besides, he wanted her so very much to see the Thrush before she went out of harbour-the Thrush was certainly the finest sloop in the service-and there were several improvements in the dockyard, too, which he quite longed to shew her.

And besides, he wanted her so very much to see the Thrush before she went out of harbour-the Thrush was certainly the finest sloop in the service-and the dockyard, too, which he quite longed to show her.


He did not scruple to add that her being at home for a while would be a great advantage to everybody.

In addition, her being at home for a while would be a great advantage to everybody.


"I do not know how it is," said he; "but we seem to want some of your nice ways and orderliness at my father's.

"I do not know how it is," said he; "but we seem to want some of your orderliness at my father's.


You will set things going in a better way, I am sure.


You will tell my mother how it all ought to be, and you will be so useful to Susan, and you will teach Betsey, and make the boys love and mind you.


How right and comfortable it will all be!"


By the time Mrs. Price's answer arrived, there remained but a very few days more to be spent at Mansfield; and for part of one of those days the young travellers were in a good deal of alarm on the subject of their journey, for when the mode of it came to be talked of, and Mrs. Norris found that all her anxiety to save her brother-in-law's money was vain, and that in spite of her wishes and hints for a less expensive conveyance of Fanny, they were to travel post; when she saw Sir Thomas actually give William notes for the purpose, she was struck with the idea of there being room for a third in the carriage, and suddenly seized with a strong inclination to go with them, to go and see her poor dear sister Price.

For a few hours the young travellers were in a good deal of alarm about their journey: Mrs. Norris found that in spite of her hints for a less expensive conveyance of Fanny, they were to travel post; and when she saw Sir Thomas give William money for the purpose, she was struck with the idea of there being room for a third in the carriage, and suddenly seized with a strong inclination to go with them to see her poor dear sister Price.


She must say that she had more than half a mind to go with the young people; it would be such an indulgence to her; she had not seen her poor dear sister Price for more than twenty years; and it would be a help to the young people in their journey to have her older head to manage for them; and she could not help thinking her poor dear sister Price would feel it very unkind of her not to come by such an opportunity.


William and Fanny were horror-struck at the idea.


All the comfort of their comfortable journey would be destroyed at once.


With woeful countenances they looked at each other.


No one interfered to encourage or dissuade.


Mrs. Norris was left to settle the matter by herself; and it ended, to the infinite joy of her nephew and niece, in the recollection that she could not possibly be spared from Mansfield Park at present; that she was a great deal too necessary to Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram for her to be able to answer it to herself to leave them even for a week, and therefore must certainly sacrifice every other pleasure to that of being useful to them.

Mrs. Norris was left to settle the matter by herself; and it ended, to the infinite joy of her nephew and niece, in the recollection that she could not possibly be spared from Mansfield Park at present.


It had, in fact, occurred to her, that though taken to Portsmouth for nothing, it would be hardly possible for her to avoid paying her own expenses back again.


So her poor dear sister Price was left to all the disappointment of her missing such an opportunity, and another twenty years' absence, perhaps, begun.

So her poor dear sister Price was left to all the disappointment of, perhaps, another twenty years' absence.


Edmund's plans were affected by this Portsmouth journey, this absence of Fanny's.

Edmund's plans were affected by this Portsmouth journey.


He too had a sacrifice to make to Mansfield Park as well as his aunt.


He had intended, about this time, to be going to London; but he could not leave his father and mother just when everybody else of most importance to their comfort was leaving them; and with an effort, felt but not boasted of, he delayed for a week or two longer a journey which he was looking forward to with the hope of its fixing his happiness for ever.

He had intended, about this time, to be going to London; but he could not leave his father and mother just when everybody else of most importance to their comfort was leaving them. With an effort, felt but not boasted of, he delayed for a week or two longer a journey which he was looking forward to with the hope of its fixing his happiness for ever.


She knew so much already, that she must know everything.


It made the substance of one other confidential discourse about Miss Crawford; and Fanny was the more affected from feeling it to be the last time in which Miss Crawford's name would ever be mentioned between them with any remains of liberty.

Fanny was affected, feeling it to be the last time in which Miss Crawford's name would ever be mentioned between them with any liberty.


Once afterwards she was alluded to by him.


Lady Bertram had been telling her niece in the evening to write to her soon and often, and promising to be a good correspondent herself; and Edmund, at a convenient moment, then added in a whisper, "And _I_ shall write to you, Fanny, when I have anything worth writing about, anything to say that I think you will like to hear, and that you will not hear so soon from any other quarter."

Lady Bertram had been telling her niece to write to her soon and often, and Edmund added in a whisper, "And I shall write to you, Fanny, when I have anything to say that I think you will like to hear."


Had she doubted his meaning while she listened, the glow in his face, when she looked up at him, would have been decisive.

Had she doubted his meaning, the glow in his face, when she looked up at him, would have been decisive.


For this letter she must try to arm herself.


That a letter from Edmund should be a subject of terror!


She began to feel that she had not yet gone through all the changes of opinion and sentiment which the progress of time and variation of circumstances occasion in this world of changes.


The vicissitudes of the human mind had not yet been exhausted by her.

varied trials of the human mind had not yet been exhausted by her.


though going as she did willingly and eagerly, the last evening at Mansfield Park must still be wretchedness.

though going eagerly, the last evening at Mansfield Park must still be wretched.


Her heart was completely sad at parting.


She had tears for every room in the house, much more for every beloved inhabitant.

She had tears for every room in the house, and every beloved inhabitant.


She clung to her aunt, because she would miss her; she kissed the hand of her uncle with struggling sobs, because she had displeased him; and as for Edmund, she could neither speak, nor look, nor think, when the last moment came with _him_; and it was not till it was over that she knew he was giving her the affectionate farewell of a brother.

She clung to her aunt, because she would miss her; she kissed the hand of her uncle with struggling sobs, because she had displeased him; and as for Edmund, she could neither speak, nor look, nor think; and it was not till it was over that she knew he was giving her the affectionate farewell of a brother.


All this passed overnight, for the journey was to begin very early in the morning; and when the small, diminished party met at breakfast, William and Fanny were talked of as already advanced one stage.

The journey began very early in the morning; and when the diminished party met at breakfast, William and Fanny were talked of as already advanced one stage.


The young people were pleased with each other from the first.


On each side there was much to attract, and their acquaintance soon promised as early an intimacy as good manners would warrant.


Miss Crawford's beauty did her no disservice with the Miss Bertrams.


They were too handsome themselves to dislike any woman for being so too, and were almost as much charmed as their brothers with her lively dark eye, clear brown complexion, and general prettiness.

were too handsome themselves to dislike any woman for being so too, and were as much charmed as their brothers with Miss Crawford's lively dark eye, clear brown complexion, and general prettiness.


Had she been tall, full formed, and fair, it might have been more of a trial: but as it was, there could be no comparison; and she was most allowably a sweet, pretty girl, while they were the finest young women in the country.

Had she been tall, full formed, and fair, it might have been more of a trial: but as it was, there could be no comparison; and she was allowably a sweet, pretty girl, while they were the finest young women in the country.


Her brother was not handsome: no, when they first saw him he was absolutely plain, black and plain; but still he was the gentleman, with a pleasing address.

Her brother was not handsome: no, he was absolutely plain; but still a gentleman, with a pleasing address.


The second meeting proved him not so very plain: he was plain, to be sure, but then he had so much countenance, and his teeth were so good, and he was so well made, that one soon forgot he was plain; and after a third interview, after dining in company with him at the Parsonage, he was no longer allowed to be called so by anybody.

The second meeting proved him not so very plain: he was so expressive, and so well made, that one soon forgot he was plain; and after a third interview, he was no longer allowed to be called so by anybody.


He was, in fact, the most agreeable young man the sisters had ever known, and they were equally delighted with him.

He was, in fact, the most agreeable young man the sisters had ever known.


Miss Bertram's engagement made him in equity the property of Julia, of which Julia was fully aware; and before he had been at Mansfield a week, she was quite ready to be fallen in love with.

Miss Bertram's engagement made him the property of Julia, of which Julia was fully aware; and before he had been at Mansfield a week, she was quite ready to be fallen in love with.


Maria's notions on the subject were more confused and indistinct.

Maria's notions on the subject were more confused.


"There could be no harm in her liking an agreeable man-everybody knew her situation-Mr. Crawford must take care of himself."


Mr. Crawford did not mean to be in any danger!


the Miss Bertrams were worth pleasing, and were ready to be pleased; and he began with no object but of making them like him.

the Miss Bertrams were worth pleasing, and he began with no object but of making them like him.


He did not want them to die of love; but with sense and temper which ought to have made him judge and feel better, he allowed himself great latitude on such points.

He did not want them to die of love; but he allowed himself great latitude on such points.


"I like your Miss Bertrams exceedingly, sister," said he, as he returned from attending them to their carriage after the said dinner visit; "they are very elegant, agreeable girls."

"I like your Miss Bertrams exceedingly, sister," said he, as they returned from a dinner visit; "very elegant, agreeable girls."


"So they are indeed, and I am delighted to hear you say it.


for Miss Bertram is in general thought the handsomest."


She has the advantage in every feature, and I prefer her countenance; but I like Julia best; Miss Bertram is certainly the handsomest, and I have found her the most agreeable, but I shall always like Julia best, because you order me."

"Miss Bertram is certainly the handsomest, and I have found her the most agreeable, but I shall always like Julia best, because you order me."


"I shall not talk to you, Henry, but I know you _will_ like her best at last."

"I shall not talk to you, Henry, but I know you will like her best at last."


"Do not I tell you that I like her best _at_ _first_?"

"Do not I tell you that I like her best at first?"


An engaged woman is always more agreeable than a disengaged.

An engaged woman is always more agreeable.


Her cares are over, and she feels that she may exert all her powers of pleasing without suspicion.

She feels that she may exert her powers of pleasing without suspicion.


All is safe with a lady engaged: no harm can be done."

All is safe with her: no harm can be done."


"Why, as to that, Mr. Rushworth is a very good sort of young man, and it is a great match for her."

"Mr. Rushworth is a very good sort of man, and it is a great match."


"But Miss Bertram does not care three straws for him; _that_ is your opinion of your intimate friend.

"But Miss Bertram does not care three straws for him; that is your opinion.


I am sure Miss Bertram is very much attached to Mr. Rushworth.


I could see it in her eyes, when he was mentioned.


I think too well of Miss Bertram to suppose she would ever give her hand without her heart."


"We must leave him to himself, I believe.


"But I would not have him _taken_ _in_; I would not have him duped; I would have it all fair and honourable."

"But I would not have him taken in; I would not have him duped."


let him stand his chance and be taken in.


Everybody is taken in at some period or other."

Everybody is taken in at some time or other."


With all due respect to such of the present company as chance to be married, my dear Mrs. Grant, there is not one in a hundred of either sex who is not taken in when they marry.

With all due respect, my dear Mrs. Grant, there is not one in a hundred who is not taken in when they marry.


Look where I will, I see that it _is_ so; and I feel that it _must_ be so, when I consider that it is, of all transactions, the one in which people expect most from others, and are least honest themselves."

It is, of all transactions, the one in which people expect most from others, and are least honest themselves."


You have been in a bad school for matrimony, in Hill Street."


"My poor aunt had certainly little cause to love the state; but, however, speaking from my own observation, it is a manoeuvring business.


I know so many who have married in the full expectation and confidence of some one particular advantage in the connexion, or accomplishment, or good quality in the person, who have found themselves entirely deceived, and been obliged to put up with exactly the reverse.

I know many who have married in the expectation of some good quality in the person, who have found themselves entirely deceived, and been obliged to put up with exactly the reverse.


"My dear child, there must be a little imagination here.


I beg your pardon, but I cannot quite believe you.


You see the evil, but you do not see the consolation.


There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere-and those evil-minded observers, dearest Mary, who make much of a little, are more taken in and deceived than the parties themselves."

There will be little disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but those evil-minded observers, dearest Mary, who make much of a little, are more deceived than the parties themselves."


When I am a wife, I mean to be just as staunch myself; and I wish my friends in general would be so too.

When I am a wife, I mean to be just as staunch myself."


"You are as bad as your brother, Mary; but we will cure you both.


Mansfield shall cure you both, and without any taking in.

stay with us, and Mansfield shall cure you both, without any taking in


The Crawfords, without wanting to be cured, were very willing to stay.

The Crawfords were very willing to stay.


Mary was satisfied with the Parsonage as a present home, and Henry equally ready to lengthen his visit.

Mary was satisfied with the Parsonage as a home, and Henry equally ready to lengthen his visit.


He had come, intending to spend only a few days with them; but Mansfield promised well, and there was nothing to call him elsewhere.

He had come, intending to spend only a few days; but Mansfield promised well.


It delighted Mrs. Grant to keep them both with her, and Dr. Grant was exceedingly well contented to have it so: a talking pretty young woman like Miss Crawford is always pleasant society to an indolent, stay-at-home man; and Mr. Crawford's being his guest was an excuse for drinking claret every day.

It delighted Mrs. Grant to keep them both, and Dr. Grant was well contented to have the society of a pretty young woman like Miss Crawford; while Mr. Crawford's being his guest was an excuse for drinking claret every day.


The Miss Bertrams' admiration of Mr. Crawford was more rapturous than anything which Miss Crawford's habits made her likely to feel.


She acknowledged, however, that the Mr. Bertrams were very fine young men, that two such young men were not often seen together even in London, and that their manners, particularly those of the eldest, were very good.

Miss Crawford acknowledged that the Mr. Bertrams were very fine young men, and their manners, particularly those of the eldest, were very good.


_He_ had been much in London, and had more liveliness and gallantry than Edmund, and must, therefore, be preferred; and, indeed, his being the eldest was another strong claim.

He had been much in London, and had more liveliness and gallantry than Edmund, and must, therefore, be preferred; and, indeed, his being the eldest was another strong claim.


She had felt an early presentiment that she _should_ like the eldest best.

She had felt a presentiment that she should like the eldest best.


Tom Bertram must have been thought pleasant, indeed, at any rate; he was the sort of young man to be generally liked, his agreeableness was of the kind to be oftener found agreeable than some endowments of a higher stamp, for he had easy manners, excellent spirits, a large acquaintance, and a great deal to say; and the reversion of Mansfield Park, and a baronetcy, did no harm to all this.

Tom Bertram was the sort of young man to be generally liked, for he had easy manners, excellent spirits, a large acquaintance, and a great deal to say; and the reversion of Mansfield Park, and a baronetcy, did no harm to all this.


Miss Crawford soon felt that he and his situation might do.


She looked about her with due consideration, and found almost everything in his favour: a park, a real park, five miles round, a spacious modern-built house, so well placed and well screened as to deserve to be in any collection of engravings of gentlemen's seats in the kingdom, and wanting only to be completely new furnished-pleasant sisters, a quiet mother, and an agreeable man himself-with the advantage of being tied up from much gaming at present by a promise to his father, and of being Sir Thomas hereafter.

She looked about her, and found almost everything in his favour: a real park, five miles round, a spacious modern-built house, well placed and well-screened, and wanting only to be completely new furnished-pleasant sisters, a quiet mother, and an agreeable man himself-with the advantages of being prevented from gambling by a promise to his father, and of being Sir Thomas hereafter.


It might do very well; she believed she should accept him; and she began accordingly to interest herself a little about the horse which he had to run at the B-- races.

It might do very well; she believed she should accept him; and she began accordingly to interest herself about the horse which he was going to run at the races.


These races were to call him away not long after their acquaintance began; and as it appeared that the family did not, from his usual goings on, expect him back again for many weeks, it would bring his passion to an early proof.

These races were to call him away soon; and as the family did not expect him back for many weeks, it would bring his passion to an early proof.


Much was said on his side to induce her to attend the races, and schemes were made for a large party to them, with all the eagerness of inclination, but it would only do to be talked of.

Much was said on his side to induce her to attend the races, and eager schemes were made for a large party, but it was no more than talk.


And Fanny, what was _she_ doing and thinking all this while?

And Fanny, what was she doing all this while?


and what was _her_ opinion of the newcomers?

and what was her opinion of the newcomers?


Few young ladies of eighteen could be less called on to speak their opinion than Fanny.


In a quiet way, very little attended to, she paid her tribute of admiration to Miss Crawford's beauty; but as she still continued to think Mr. Crawford very plain, in spite of her two cousins having repeatedly proved the contrary, she never mentioned _him_.

In a quiet way, she paid her tribute to Miss Crawford's beauty; but she continued to think Mr. Crawford very plain, in spite of her two cousins having proved the contrary.


The notice, which she excited herself, was to this effect.


"I begin now to understand you all, except Miss Price," said Miss Crawford, as she was walking with the Mr. Bertrams.

"Pray, is Miss Price out, or not?" said Miss Crawford, as she was walking with the Mr. Bertrams.


She dined at the Parsonage, with the rest of you, which seemed like being _out_; and yet she says so little, that I can hardly suppose she _is_."

She dined at the Parsonage, with the rest of you, which seemed like being out; and yet she says so little, that I can hardly suppose she is."


Edmund, to whom this was chiefly addressed, replied, "I believe I know what you mean, but I will not undertake to answer the question.

Edmund replied, "I will not undertake to answer.


She has the age and sense of a woman, but the outs and not outs are beyond me."


"And yet, in general, nothing can be more easily ascertained.


Manners as well as appearance are, generally speaking, so totally different.


Till now, I could not have supposed it possible to be mistaken as to a girl's being out or not.


A girl not out has always the same sort of dress: a close bonnet, for instance; looks very demure, and never says a word.

A girl not out has always the same sort of dress: looks very demure, and never says a word.


You may smile, but it is so, I assure you; and except that it is sometimes carried a little too far, it is all very proper.

You may smile, but it is so, I assure you; and it is very proper.


The most objectionable part is, that the alteration of manners on being introduced into company is frequently too sudden.

But the alteration of manners on being introduced into company is frequently too sudden.


They sometimes pass in such very little time from reserve to quite the opposite-to confidence!

They sometimes pass in such very little time from reserve to confidence!


_That_ is the faulty part of the present system.


One does not like to see a girl of eighteen or nineteen so immediately up to every thing-and perhaps when one has seen her hardly able to speak the year before.

One does not like to see a girl of eighteen so immediately up to everything when she was hardly able to speak the year before.


Mr. Bertram, I dare say _you_ have sometimes met with such changes."

Mr. Bertram, I dare say you have met with such changes."


"I believe I have, but this is hardly fair; I see what you are at.


But I _will_ quiz you with a great deal of pleasure, if you will tell me what about."

But I will quiz you gladly, if you will tell me what about."


you carry it off very well, but I cannot be quite so far imposed on.


You must have had Miss Anderson in your eye, in describing an altered young lady.


We were speaking of them the other day, you know.


Edmund, you have heard me mention Charles Anderson.


The circumstance was precisely as this lady has represented it.


When Anderson first introduced me to his family, about two years ago, his sister was not _out_, and I could not get her to speak to me.

When he first introduced me to his family, his sister was not out, and I could not get her to speak to me.


I sat there an hour one morning waiting for Anderson, with only her and a little girl or two in the room, the governess being sick or run away, and the mother in and out every moment with letters of business, and I could hardly get a word or a look from the young lady-nothing like a civil answer-she screwed up her mouth, and turned from me with such an air!

I sat an hour one morning waiting for Anderson, with the mother in and out every moment, and I could hardly get a word from the young lady-she screwed up her mouth, and turned from me with such an air!


I did not see her again for a twelvemonth.


I met her at Mrs. Holford's, and did not recollect her.


She came up to me, claimed me as an acquaintance, stared me out of countenance; and talked and laughed till I did not know which way to look.

She came up to me, claimed me as an acquaintance, and talked and laughed till I did not know which way to look.


I felt that I must be the jest of the room at the time, and Miss Crawford, it is plain, has heard the story."

I felt that I must be the jest of the room, and Miss Crawford, it is plain, has heard the story."


"And a very pretty story it is, and with more truth in it, I dare say, than does credit to Miss Anderson.


Mothers certainly have not yet got quite the right way of managing their daughters.

Mothers certainly have not got quite the right way of managing their daughters.


I do not pretend to set people right, but I do see that they are often wrong."


"Those who are showing the world what female manners _should_ be," said Mr. Bertram gallantly, "are doing a great deal to set them right."

"Those who show the world what female manners should be," said Mr. Bertram gallantly, "are doing much to set them right."


"The error is plain enough," said the less courteous Edmund; "such girls are ill brought up.


They are given wrong notions from the beginning.


They are always acting upon motives of vanity, and there is no more real modesty in their behaviour _before_ they appear in public than afterwards."

There is no more real modesty in their behaviour before they appear in public than afterwards."


"I do not know," replied Miss Crawford hesitatingly.


It is certainly the modestest part of the business.


It is much worse to have girls not out give themselves the same airs and take the same liberties as if they were, which I have seen done.

It is much worse to have girls not out give themselves the same airs as if they were.


That is worse than anything-quite disgusting!"


"Yes, _that_ is very inconvenient indeed," said Mr. Bertram.

"Yes, very inconvenient indeed," said Mr. Bertram.


"It leads one astray; one does not know what to do.


The close bonnet and demure air you describe so well (and nothing was ever juster), tell one what is expected; but I got into a dreadful scrape last year from the want of them.

The demure air tells one what is expected; but I got into a dreadful scrape last year.


I went down to Ramsgate for a week with a friend last September, just after my return from the West Indies.

I went down to Ramsgate with a friend last September.


My friend Sneyd-you have heard me speak of Sneyd, Edmund-his father, and mother, and sisters, were there, all new to me.

My friend Sneyd-you have heard me speak of Sneyd, Edmund-his father, mother, and sisters were there, all new to me.


When we reached Albion Place they were out; we went after them, and found them on the pier: Mrs. and the two Miss Sneyds, with others of their acquaintance.

We went to meet them, and found them on the pier:


I made my bow in form; and as Mrs. Sneyd was surrounded by men, attached myself to one of her daughters, walked by her side all the way home, and made myself as agreeable as I could; the young lady perfectly easy in her manners, and as ready to talk as to listen.

I made my bow, and attached myself to one of Mrs Sneyd's daughters, walked by her side, and made myself agreeable; the young lady perfectly easy in her manners, and as ready to talk as to listen.


I had not a suspicion that I could be doing anything wrong.

I had not a suspicion that I was doing anything wrong.


They looked just the same: both well-dressed, with veils and parasols like other girls; but I afterwards found that I had been giving all my attention to the youngest, who was not _out_, and had most excessively offended the eldest.

They looked just the same: but I afterwards found that I had been giving all my attention to the youngest, who was not out, and had excessively offended the eldest.


Miss Augusta ought not to have been noticed for the next six months; and Miss Sneyd, I believe, has never forgiven me."


Though I have no younger sister, I feel for her.


To be neglected before one's time must be very vexatious; but it was entirely the mother's fault.


Miss Augusta should have been with her governess.


Such half-and-half doings never prosper.


But now I must be satisfied about Miss Price.


Does she dine out every where, as well as at my sister's?"


"No," replied Edmund; "I do not think she has ever been to a ball.

"No," replied Edmund; "I do not think Fanny has ever been to a ball.


My mother seldom goes into company herself, and dines nowhere but with Mrs. Grant, and Fanny stays at home with _her_."


The day at Sotherton, with all its imperfections, afforded the Miss Bertrams much more agreeable feelings than were derived from the letters from Antigua, which soon afterwards reached Mansfield.

The day at Sotherton, with all its imperfections, gave the Miss Bertrams much more agreeable feelings than the letters from Antigua, which soon afterwards reached Mansfield.


It was much pleasanter to think of Henry Crawford than of their father; and to think of their father in England again within a certain period, which these letters obliged them to do, was a most unwelcome exercise.

It was much pleasanter to think of Henry Crawford than of their father.


November was the black month fixed for his return.


Sir Thomas wrote of it with as much decision as experience and anxiety could authorise.


His business was so nearly concluded as to justify him in proposing to take his passage in the September packet, and he consequently looked forward with the hope of being with his beloved family again early in November.

's business being nearly concluded, he proposed to sail in the September packet, and looked forward to being with his beloved family again early in November.


Maria was more to be pitied than Julia; for to her the father brought a husband, and the return of the friend most solicitous for her happiness would unite her to the lover, on whom she had chosen that happiness should depend.

Maria was more to be pitied than Julia; for to her the father brought a husband, and the return of the friend most anxious for her happiness would unite her to the lover, on whom she had chosen that happiness should depend.


It was a gloomy prospect, and all she could do was to throw a mist over it, and hope when the mist cleared away she should see something else.

It was a gloomy prospect, and all she could do was to throw a mist over it, and hope that when the mist cleared away she should see something else.


It would hardly be _early_ in November, there were generally delays, a bad passage or _something_; that favouring _something_ which everybody who shuts their eyes while they look, or their understandings while they reason, feels the comfort of.

It would hardly be early in November, there were generally delays;


It would probably be the middle of November at least; the middle of November was three months off.

it would probably be the middle of November at least; the middle of November was thirteen weeks off.


Sir Thomas would have been deeply mortified by a suspicion of half that his daughters felt on the subject of his return, and would hardly have found consolation in a knowledge of the interest it excited in the breast of another young lady.

Sir Thomas would have been deeply mortified by his daughters' feelings, and would hardly have found consolation in another young lady's interest.


Miss Crawford, on walking up with her brother to spend the evening at Mansfield Park, heard the good news; and though seeming to have no concern in the affair beyond politeness, and to have vented all her feelings in a quiet congratulation, heard it with an attention not so easily satisfied.

Miss Crawford heard the good news with attention.


Mrs. Norris gave the particulars of the letters, and the subject was dropt; but after tea, as Miss Crawford was standing at an open window with Edmund and Fanny looking out on a twilight scene, while the Miss Bertrams, Mr. Rushworth, and Henry Crawford were all busy with candles at the pianoforte, she suddenly revived it by turning round towards the group, and saying, "How happy Mr. Rushworth looks!

After tea, as she was standing at a window with Edmund and Fanny looking out on a twilight scene, while the Miss Bertrams, Mr. Rushworth, and Henry Crawford were all busy at the pianoforte, she suddenly turned round towards the group, saying, "How happy Mr. Rushworth looks!


Edmund looked round at Mr. Rushworth too, but had nothing to say.


"Your father's return will be a very interesting event."


"It will, indeed, after such an absence; an absence not only long, but including so many dangers."


"It will be the forerunner also of other interesting events: your sister's marriage, and your taking orders."

"It will be the forerunner of other interesting events: your sister's marriage, and your taking orders."


"Don't be affronted," said she, laughing, "but it does put me in mind of some of the old heathen heroes, who, after performing great exploits in a foreign land, offered sacrifices to the gods on their safe return."

"Don't be affronted," said she, laughing, "but it does put me in mind of some old heathen heroes, who, after great exploits in a foreign land, offered sacrifices to the gods on their safe return."


"There is no sacrifice in the case," replied Edmund, with a serious smile, and glancing at the pianoforte again; "it is entirely her own doing."


She has done no more than what every young woman would do; and I have no doubt of her being extremely happy.


My other sacrifice, of course, you do not understand."

The other sacrifice, of course, you do not understand."


"My taking orders, I assure you, is quite as voluntary as Maria's marrying."


"It is fortunate that your inclination and your father's convenience should accord so well.

"It is fortunate that your wish and your father's convenience should accord so well.


There is a very good living kept for you, I understand, hereabouts."

There is a very good living kept for you, I understand."


"But _that_ I am sure it has not," cried Fanny.


"Thank you for your good word, Fanny, but it is more than I would affirm myself.

"Thank you, Fanny, but it is more than I would affirm myself.


On the contrary, the knowing that there was such a provision for me probably did bias me.

On the contrary, knowing that there was such a provision probably did bias me.


Nor can I think it wrong that it should.


There was no natural disinclination to be overcome, and I see no reason why a man should make a worse clergyman for knowing that he will have a competence early in life.


I hope I should not have been influenced myself in a wrong way, and I am sure my father was too conscientious to have allowed it.


I have no doubt that I was biased, but I think it was blamelessly."


"It is the same sort of thing," said Fanny, after a short pause, "as for the son of an admiral to go into the navy, or the son of a general to be in the army, and nobody sees anything wrong in that.

"It is the same sort of thing," said Fanny, "as for the son of an admiral to go into the navy, or the son of a general to be in the army, and nobody sees anything wrong in that.


Nobody wonders that they should prefer the line where their friends can serve them best, or suspects them to be less in earnest in it than they appear."

Nobody wonders that they should prefer the line where their friends can serve them best."


"No, my dear Miss Price, and for reasons good.


The profession, either navy or army, is its own justification.


It has everything in its favour: heroism, danger, bustle, fashion.


Soldiers and sailors are always acceptable in society.


Nobody can wonder that men are soldiers and sailors."


"But the motives of a man who takes orders with the certainty of preferment may be fairly suspected, you think?"

"But the motives of a man who takes orders with the certainty of preferment may be suspected, you think?"


"To be justified in your eyes, he must do it in the most complete uncertainty of any provision."

"To be justified in your eyes, he must do it in complete uncertainty of any provision."


No; that is madness indeed; absolute madness."


"Shall I ask you how the church is to be filled, if a man is neither to take orders with a living nor without?


No; for you certainly would not know what to say.


But I must beg some advantage to the clergyman from your own argument.


As he cannot be influenced by those feelings which you rank highly as temptation and reward to the soldier and sailor in their choice of a profession, as heroism, and noise, and fashion, are all against him, he ought to be less liable to the suspicion of wanting sincerity or good intentions in the choice of his."

As heroism, and noise, and fashion, cannot tempt him, he ought not to be suspected of lacking sincerity in his choice."


no doubt he is very sincere in preferring an income ready made, to the trouble of working for one; and has the best intentions of doing nothing all the rest of his days but eat, drink, and grow fat.

no doubt he is very sincere in preferring an income ready made, to the trouble of working for one; and has the best intentions of doing nothing all his days but eat, drink, and grow fat.


Indolence and love of ease; a want of all laudable ambition, of taste for good company, or of inclination to take the trouble of being agreeable, which make men clergymen.

; a want of ambition, of taste for good company, or of inclination to be agreeable, which make men clergymen.


A clergyman has nothing to do but be slovenly and selfish-read the newspaper, watch the weather, and quarrel with his wife.

A clergyman has nothing to do but be slovenly and selfish.


His curate does all the work, and the business of his own life is to dine."


"There are such clergymen, no doubt, but I think they are not so common as to justify Miss Crawford in esteeming it their general character.

"There are such clergymen, no doubt, but they are not so common as you suppose.


I suspect that in this comprehensive and (may I say) commonplace censure, you are not judging from yourself, but from prejudiced persons, whose opinions you have been in the habit of hearing.

I suspect that in this comprehensive censure, you are judging from prejudiced persons, whose opinions you have been in the habit of hearing.


It is impossible that your own observation can have given you much knowledge of the clergy.

It is impossible that you can have much knowledge of the clergy.


You can have been personally acquainted with very few of a set of men you condemn so conclusively.


You are speaking what you have been told at your uncle's table."


"I speak what appears to me the general opinion; and where an opinion is general, it is usually correct.

"I speak what is the general opinion; and where an opinion is general, it is usually correct.


Though _I_ have not seen much of the domestic lives of clergymen, it is seen by too many to leave any deficiency of information."

The lives of clergymen are seen by too many to leave any deficiency of information."


"Where any one body of educated men, of whatever denomination, are condemned indiscriminately, there must be a deficiency of information, or (smiling) of something else.

"Where any body of educated men are condemned indiscriminately, there must be a deficiency of information, or (smiling) of something else.


Your uncle, and his brother admirals, perhaps knew little of clergymen beyond the chaplains whom, good or bad, they were always wishing away."

Your uncle, and his brother admirals, perhaps knew little of clergymen beyond the chaplains whom they were always wishing away."


He has met with great kindness from the chaplain of the Antwerp," was a tender apostrophe of Fanny's, very much to the purpose of her own feelings if not of the conversation.

He has met with great kindness from the chaplain of the Antwerp," was a tender remark of Fanny's, very much to the purpose of her own feelings if not of the conversation.


"I have been so little addicted to take my opinions from my uncle," said Miss Crawford, "that I can hardly suppose-and since you push me so hard, I must observe, that I am not entirely without the means of seeing what clergymen are, being at this present time the guest of my own brother, Dr. Grant.

"I do not take my opinions from my uncle," said Miss Crawford, "and I can see what clergymen are, being the guest of Dr. Grant.


And though Dr. Grant is most kind and obliging to me, and though he is really a gentleman, and, I dare say, a good scholar and clever, and often preaches good sermons, and is very respectable, _I_ see him to be an indolent, selfish _bon_ _vivant_, who must have his palate consulted in everything; who will not stir a finger for the convenience of any one; and who, moreover, if the cook makes a blunder, is out of humour with his excellent wife.

And though Dr. Grant is most kind and obliging to me, and though he is clever, and often preaches good sermons, I see him to be an indolent, selfish bon vivant, who must have his palate consulted in everything; who will not stir a finger for the convenience of any one; and who, moreover, if the cook makes a blunder, is out of humour with his excellent wife.


To own the truth, Henry and I were partly driven out this very evening by a disappointment about a green goose, which he could not get the better of.

Henry and I were driven out this very evening by a disappointment about a green goose, which he could not get the better of.


My poor sister was forced to stay and bear it."


"I do not wonder at your disapprobation, upon my word.

"I do not wonder at your disapprobation.


It is a great defect of temper, made worse by a very faulty habit of self-indulgence; and to see your sister suffering from it must be exceedingly painful to such feelings as yours.

It is a great defect of temper, and to see your sister suffering from it must be exceedingly painful.


"No," replied Fanny, "but we need not give up his profession for all that; because, whatever profession Dr. Grant had chosen, he would have taken a-not a good temper into it; and as he must, either in the navy or army, have had a great many more people under his command than he has now, I think more would have been made unhappy by him as a sailor or soldier than as a clergyman.

"No," replied Fanny, "but whatever profession Dr. Grant had chosen, he would have taken a-not a good temper into it; and in the navy or army, I think more would have been made unhappy by him than as a clergyman.


Besides, I cannot but suppose that whatever there may be to wish otherwise in Dr. Grant would have been in a greater danger of becoming worse in a more active and worldly profession, where he would have had less time and obligation-where he might have escaped that knowledge of himself, the _frequency_, at least, of that knowledge which it is impossible he should escape as he is now.

Besides, in a more worldly profession, he might have escaped that knowledge of himself, which it is impossible he should escape now.


A man-a sensible man like Dr. Grant, cannot be in the habit of teaching others their duty every week, cannot go to church twice every Sunday, and preach such very good sermons in so good a manner as he does, without being the better for it himself.

A man cannot teach others their duty every week and preach such very good sermons as he does, without being the better for it himself.


It must make him think; and I have no doubt that he oftener endeavours to restrain himself than he would if he had been anything but a clergyman."


"We cannot prove to the contrary, to be sure; but I wish you a better fate, Miss Price, than to be the wife of a man whose amiableness depends upon his own sermons; for though he may preach himself into a good-humour every Sunday, it will be bad enough to have him quarrelling about green geese from Monday morning till Saturday night."

"We cannot prove to the contrary, to be sure; but I wish you a better fate, Miss Price, than to be the wife of a man whose amiableness depends upon his own sermons; for though he may preach himself into a good-humour every Sunday, it is still bad enough to have him quarrelling about green geese from Monday till Saturday night."


"I think the man who could often quarrel with Fanny," said Edmund affectionately, "must be beyond the reach of any sermons."

"I think the man who could quarrel with Fanny," said Edmund affectionately, "must be beyond the reach of any sermons."


Fanny turned farther into the window; and Miss Crawford had only time to say, in a pleasant manner, "I fancy Miss Price has been more used to deserve praise than to hear it"; when, being earnestly invited by the Miss Bertrams to join in a glee, she tripped off to the instrument, leaving Edmund looking after her in an ecstasy of admiration of all her many virtues, from her obliging manners down to her light and graceful tread.

Fanny turned away; and Miss Crawford had only time to say pleasantly, "I fancy Miss Price has been more used to deserve praise than to hear it"; when, being invited by the Miss Bertrams to join in a glee, she tripped off to the instrument, leaving Edmund looking after her in an ecstasy of admiration of her many virtues, from her obliging manners to her graceful tread.


"There goes good-humour, I am sure," said he presently.

"There goes good-humour, I am sure," said he.


"There goes a temper which would never give pain!


and how readily she falls in with the inclination of others!


What a pity," he added, after an instant's reflection, "that she should have been in such hands!"

What a pity that she should have been in such hands!"


Fanny agreed to it, and had the pleasure of seeing him continue at the window with her, in spite of the expected glee; and of having his eyes soon turned, like hers, towards the scene without, where all that was solemn, and soothing, and lovely, appeared in the brilliancy of an unclouded night, and the contrast of the deep shade of the woods.

Fanny agreed, and had the pleasure of seeing him continue at the window with her, in spite of the expected glee; and of having his eyes turned, like hers, outside, where a solemn, soothing, and lovely scene appeared in the brilliancy of an unclouded night.


Here's what may leave all painting and all music behind, and what poetry only can attempt to describe!


Here's what may tranquillise every care, and lift the heart to rapture!


When I look out on such a night as this, I feel as if there could be neither wickedness nor sorrow in the world; and there certainly would be less of both if the sublimity of Nature were more attended to, and people were carried more out of themselves by contemplating such a scene."


It is a lovely night, and they are much to be pitied who have not been taught to feel, in some degree, as you do; who have not, at least, been given a taste for Nature in early life.

They are much to be pitied who have not been taught to feel as you do."


"_You_ taught me to think and feel on the subject, cousin."

"You taught me to think and feel on the subject, cousin."


It is a great while since we have had any star-gazing."


"Yes; I do not know how it has happened."


"We will stay till this is finished, Fanny," said he, turning his back on the window; and as it advanced, she had the mortification of seeing him advance too, moving forward by gentle degrees towards the instrument, and when it ceased, he was close by the singers, among the most urgent in requesting to hear the glee again.

"We will stay till this is finished, Fanny," said he, turning his back on the window; and as it advanced, she had the mortification of seeing him advance too, moving forward by gentle degrees towards the instrument. When it ceased, he was close by the singers, among the most urgent in requesting to hear the glee again.


Fanny sighed alone at the window till scolded away by Mrs. Norris's threats of catching cold.

Fanny sighed alone at the window, till scolded away by Mrs. Norris's threats of catching cold.


The Prices were just setting off for church the next day when Mr. Crawford appeared again.

The Prices were just setting off for church the next day when Mr. Crawford appeared.


He came, not to stop, but to join them; he was asked to go with them to the Garrison chapel, which was exactly what he had intended, and they all walked thither together.

He was asked to go with them to the Garrison chapel, which was exactly what he had intended, and they all walked there together.


Nature had given them no inconsiderable share of beauty, and every Sunday dressed them in their cleanest skins and best attire.


Sunday always brought this comfort to Fanny, and on this Sunday she felt it more than ever.


Her poor mother now did not look so very unworthy of being Lady Bertram's sister as she was but too apt to look.

Her poor mother now did not look so very unworthy of being Lady Bertram's sister.


It often grieved her to the heart to think of the contrast between them; to think that where nature had made so little difference, circumstances should have made so much, and that her mother, as handsome as Lady Bertram, and some years her junior, should have an appearance so much more worn and faded, so comfortless, so slatternly, so shabby.

It often grieved her that where nature had made so little difference, circumstances should have made so much, and that her mother, as handsome as Lady Bertram, should have an appearance so much more worn and shabby.


But Sunday made her a very creditable and tolerably cheerful-looking Mrs. Price, coming abroad with a fine family of children, feeling a little respite of her weekly cares, and only discomposed if she saw her boys run into danger, or Rebecca pass by with a flower in her hat.

But Sunday made her a very creditable Mrs. Price, with a fine family of children.


In chapel they were obliged to divide, but Mr. Crawford took care not to be divided from the female branch; and after chapel he still continued with them, and made one in the family party on the ramparts.

In chapel they were obliged to divide, but Mr. Crawford took care not to be divided from the female branch; and after chapel he continued with them, and joined the family party on the ramparts.


Mrs. Price took her weekly walk on the ramparts every fine Sunday throughout the year, always going directly after morning service and staying till dinner-time.

Mrs. Price took her weekly walk on the ramparts every fine Sunday throughout the year.


It was her public place: there she met her acquaintance, heard a little news, talked over the badness of the Portsmouth servants, and wound up her spirits for the six days ensuing.

There she met her acquaintance, heard a little news, talked over the badness of the Portsmouth servants, and wound up her spirits for the six days.


Thither they now went; Mr. Crawford most happy to consider the Miss Prices as his peculiar charge; and before they had been there long, somehow or other, there was no saying how, Fanny could not have believed it, but he was walking between them with an arm of each under his, and she did not know how to prevent or put an end to it.

Thither they now went; Mr. Crawford most happy to consider the Miss Prices as his charge; and before they had been there long, somehow or other, there was no saying how, he was walking between them with an arm of each under his. Fanny did not know how to put an end to it.


It made her uncomfortable for a time, but yet there were enjoyments in the day and in the view which would be felt.

It made her uncomfortable, but yet there were enjoyments in the day.


It was really March; but it was April in its mild air, brisk soft wind, and bright sun, occasionally clouded for a minute; and everything looked so beautiful under the influence of such a sky, the effects of the shadows pursuing each other on the ships at Spithead and the island beyond, with the ever-varying hues of the sea, now at high water, dancing in its glee and dashing against the ramparts with so fine a sound, produced altogether such a combination of charms for Fanny, as made her gradually almost careless of the circumstances under which she felt them.

Everything looked so beautiful under the influence of such a fine March sky, with the ever-varying hues of the sea, now at high water, dancing in its glee and dashing against the ramparts; and produced altogether such a combination of charms for Fanny, as made her almost careless of the circumstances under which she felt them.


Nay, had she been without his arm, she would soon have known that she needed it, for she wanted strength for a two hours' saunter of this kind, coming, as it generally did, upon a week's previous inactivity.

Had she been without his arm, she would soon have known that she needed it, for she lacked strength for a two hours' saunter.


Fanny was beginning to feel the effect of being debarred from her usual regular exercise; she had lost ground as to health since her being in Portsmouth; and but for Mr. Crawford and the beauty of the weather would soon have been knocked up now.

Fanny was beginning to feel the effect of being debarred from her usual regular exercise; she had lost ground as to health since her being in Portsmouth.


The loveliness of the day, and of the view, he felt like herself.


They often stopt with the same sentiment and taste, leaning against the wall, some minutes, to look and admire; and considering he was not Edmund, Fanny could not but allow that he was sufficiently open to the charms of nature, and very well able to express his admiration.

They often stopped some minutes to look and admire; and considering he was not Edmund, Fanny had to allow that he was open to the charms of nature, and very well able to express his admiration.


She had a few tender reveries now and then, which he could sometimes take advantage of to look in her face without detection; and the result of these looks was, that though as bewitching as ever, her face was less blooming than it ought to be.

She had a few tender reveries now and then, during which he could sometimes look in her face without detection; and he concluded that, though as bewitching as ever, her face was less blooming than it ought to be.


She _said_ she was very well, and did not like to be supposed otherwise; but take it all in all, he was convinced that her present residence could not be comfortable, and therefore could not be salutary for her, and he was growing anxious for her being again at Mansfield, where her own happiness, and his in seeing her, must be so much greater.

She said she was very well; but he was convinced that her residence could not be comfortable, and he was growing anxious for her being again at Mansfield.


It is only four weeks to-morrow since I left Mansfield."


"You are a most accurate and honest reckoner.


"I did not arrive here till Tuesday evening."


"And it is to be a two months' visit, is not?"

It is to be a two months' visit, is not?"


"And how are you to be conveyed back again?"


I have heard nothing about it yet from my aunt.


It may not be convenient for me to be fetched exactly at the two months' end."

Perhaps it may not be convenient for me to be fetched exactly at the two months' end."


After a moment's reflection, Mr. Crawford replied, "I know Mansfield, I know its way, I know its faults towards _you_.

After reflection, Mr. Crawford replied, "I know Mansfield, I know its faults towards you.


I know the danger of your being so far forgotten, as to have your comforts give way to the imaginary convenience of any single being in the family.


I am aware that you may be left here week after week, if Sir Thomas cannot settle everything for coming himself, or sending your aunt's maid for you, without involving the slightest alteration of the arrangements which he may have laid down for the next quarter of a year.

I am aware that you may be left here week after week, if Sir Thomas cannot organize it without involving the slightest alteration of the arrangements which he has laid down for the next quarter of a year.


Two months is an ample allowance; I should think six weeks quite enough.

Two months is plenty; I should think six weeks quite enough.


I am considering your sister's health," said he, addressing himself to Susan, "which I think the confinement of Portsmouth unfavourable to.

I am considering your sister's health," said he, addressing Susan.


When you know her as well as I do, I am sure you will agree that she does, and that she ought never to be long banished from the free air and liberty of the country.

, and ought never to be long banished from the free air of the country.


If, therefore" (turning again to Fanny), "you find yourself growing unwell, and any difficulties arise about your returning to Mansfield, without waiting for the two months to be ended, _that_ must not be regarded as of any consequence, if you feel yourself at all less strong or comfortable than usual, and will only let my sister know it, give her only the slightest hint, she and I will immediately come down, and take you back to Mansfield.

If, therefore" (turning again to Fanny), "you find yourself growing unwell, and any difficulties arise about your returning, if you feel yourself at all less strong or comfortable than usual, and will only let my sister know it, give her only the slightest hint, she and I will immediately come down, and take you back to Mansfield.


You know the ease and the pleasure with which this would be done.

You know the pleasure with which this would be done."


You know all that would be felt on the occasion."


Fanny thanked him, but tried to laugh it off.


"I am perfectly serious," he replied, "as you perfectly know.

"I am perfectly serious," he replied, "as you know.


And I hope you will not be cruelly concealing any tendency to indisposition.

And I hope you will not conceal any indisposition.


Indeed, you shall _not_; it shall not be in your power; for so long only as you positively say, in every letter to Mary, 'I am well,' and I know you cannot speak or write a falsehood, so long only shall you be considered as well."

Indeed, so long as you positively say, in every letter to Mary, 'I am well,' since I know you cannot speak a falsehood, so long only shall you be considered well."


Fanny thanked him again, but was affected and distressed to a degree that made it impossible for her to say much, or even to be certain of what she ought to say.

Fanny thanked him again, but was affected and distressed to a great degree.


This was towards the close of their walk.


He attended them to the last, and left them only at the door of their own house, when he knew them to be going to dinner, and therefore pretended to be waited for elsewhere.

He left them at the door of their own house.


"I wish you were not so tired," said he, still detaining Fanny after all the others were in the house-"I wish I left you in stronger health.

"I wish you were not so tired," said he, detaining Fanny after the others were gone in-"I wish I left you in stronger health.


Is there anything I can do for you in town?


I have half an idea of going into Norfolk again soon.


I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible, and get a cousin of his own into a certain mill, which I design for somebody else.

I am sure he still means to impose on me if possible.


I must come to an understanding with him.


I must make him know that I will not be tricked on the south side of Everingham, any more than on the north: that I will be master of my own property.


I was not explicit enough with him before.


The mischief such a man does on an estate, both as to the credit of his employer and the welfare of the poor, is inconceivable.

The mischief such a man does on an estate, both to the credit of his employer and the welfare of the poor, is inconceivable.


I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly, and put everything at once on such a footing as cannot be afterwards swerved from.

I have a great mind to go back into Norfolk directly.


Maddison is a clever fellow; I do not wish to displace him, provided he does not try to displace _me_; but it would be simple to be duped by a man who has no right of creditor to dupe me, and worse than simple to let him give me a hard-hearted, griping fellow for a tenant, instead of an honest man, to whom I have given half a promise already.


When you give me your opinion, I always know what is right."


We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be.


Good-bye; I wish you a pleasant journey to-morrow."

Good-bye; I wish you a pleasant journey."


"Is there nothing I can do for you in town?"

"Is there nothing I can do for you in London?"


"My love to your sister, if you please; and when you see my cousin, my cousin Edmund, I wish you would be so good as to say that I suppose I shall soon hear from him."


"Certainly; and if he is lazy or negligent, I will write his excuses myself."


He could say no more, for Fanny would be no longer detained.


He pressed her hand, looked at her, and was gone.


_He_ went to while away the next three hours as he could, with his other acquaintance, till the best dinner that a capital inn afforded was ready for their enjoyment, and _she_ turned in to her more simple one immediately.


Their general fare bore a very different character; and could he have suspected how many privations, besides that of exercise, she endured in her father's house, he would have wondered that her looks were not much more affected than he found them.

Could he have suspected how many privations, besides that of exercise, she endured in her father's house, he would have wondered that her looks were not more affected.


She was so little equal to Rebecca's puddings and Rebecca's hashes, brought to table, as they all were, with such accompaniments of half-cleaned plates, and not half-cleaned knives and forks, that she was very often constrained to defer her heartiest meal till she could send her brothers in the evening for biscuits and buns.

She was so little equal to Rebecca's puddings and Rebecca's hashes, brought to table, as they all were, with half-cleaned plates, and not even half-cleaned knives and forks, that she very often deferred her heartiest meal till she could send her brothers in the evening for biscuits and buns.


After being nursed up at Mansfield, it was too late in the day to be hardened at Portsmouth; and though Sir Thomas, had he known all, might have thought his niece in the most promising way of being starved, both mind and body, into a much juster value for Mr. Crawford's good company and good fortune, he would probably have feared to push his experiment farther, lest she might die under the cure.

Though Sir Thomas might have thought his niece in the most promising way of being starved into valuing Mr. Crawford's company, he would probably have feared to push his experiment farther, lest she might die under the cure.


Fanny was out of spirits all the rest of the day.


Though tolerably secure of not seeing Mr. Crawford again, she could not help being low.


It was parting with somebody of the nature of a friend; and though, in one light, glad to have him gone, it seemed as if she was now deserted by everybody; it was a sort of renewed separation from Mansfield; and she could not think of his returning to town, and being frequently with Mary and Edmund, without feelings so near akin to envy as made her hate herself for having them.

It was parting with somebody of the nature of a friend; and though, in one light, glad to have him gone, it seemed as if she was now deserted by everybody. It was a sort of renewed separation from Mansfield; and she could not think of his being in town with Mary and Edmund without feelings so close to envy as made her hate herself for having them.


Her dejection had no abatement from anything passing around her; a friend or two of her father's, as always happened if he was not with them, spent the long, long evening there; and from six o'clock till half-past nine, there was little intermission of noise or grog.

Her dejection had no relief from anything around her; a friend or two of her father's spent the long, long evening there; and from six o'clock till half-past nine, there was little intermission of noise or grog.


The wonderful improvement which she still fancied in Mr. Crawford was the nearest to administering comfort of anything within the current of her thoughts.

The wonderful improvement which she fancied in Mr. Crawford was the nearest to comfort of anything in her thoughts.


Not considering in how different a circle she had been just seeing him, nor how much might be owing to contrast, she was quite persuaded of his being astonishingly more gentle and regardful of others than formerly.

Not considering how much might be owing to contrast, she was quite persuaded of his being astonishingly more gentle and regardful of others than formerly.


And, if in little things, must it not be so in great?


So anxious for her health and comfort, so very feeling as he now expressed himself, and really seemed, might not it be fairly supposed that he would not much longer persevere in a suit so distressing to her?

So anxious for her health and comfort as he seemed, might she not suppose that he would not much longer persevere in a suit so distressing to her?


It had been a miserable party, each of the three believing themselves most miserable.

It had been a miserable group at Mansfield.


Mrs. Norris, however, as most attached to Maria, was really the greatest sufferer.

Mrs. Norris, as most attached to Maria, was really the greatest sufferer.


Maria was her first favourite, the dearest of all; the match had been her own contriving, as she had been wont with such pride of heart to feel and say, and this conclusion of it almost overpowered her.

Maria was her first favourite; the match had been her own contriving, and this conclusion of it almost overpowered her.


She was an altered creature, quieted, stupefied, indifferent to everything that passed.

She was an altered creature, quiet, stupefied, indifferent to everything that passed.


The being left with her sister and nephew, and all the house under her care, had been an advantage entirely thrown away; she had been unable to direct or dictate, or even fancy herself useful.

She had been unable to direct or dictate, or even fancy herself useful.


When really touched by affliction, her active powers had been all benumbed; and neither Lady Bertram nor Tom had received from her the smallest support or attempt at support.

When really afflicted, her active powers had been all benumbed; and neither Lady Bertram nor Tom had received from her the smallest support.


She had done no more for them than they had done for each other.


They had been all solitary, helpless, and forlorn alike; and now the arrival of the others only established her superiority in wretchedness.

They had been all solitary, helpless, and forlorn alike.


Her companions were relieved, but there was no good for _her_.

Her companions were now relieved, but there was no good for her.


Edmund was almost as welcome to his brother as Fanny to her aunt; but Mrs. Norris, instead of having comfort from either, was but the more irritated by the sight of the person whom, in the blindness of her anger, she could have charged as the daemon of the piece.

Edmund was almost as welcome to his brother as Fanny was to her aunt; but Mrs. Norris was irritated by the sight of the person whom, in blind anger, she could have blamed as the daemon of the piece.


Had Fanny accepted Mr. Crawford this could not have happened.


She had not spirits to notice her in more than a few repulsive looks, but she felt her as a spy, and an intruder, and an indigent niece, and everything most odious.

Mrs. Norris had not spirits to notice her much, but she felt her as a spy, an intruder, and everything most odious.


By her other aunt, Susan was received with quiet kindness.


Lady Bertram could not give her much time, or many words, but she felt her, as Fanny's sister, to have a claim at Mansfield, and was ready to kiss and like her; and Susan was more than satisfied, for she came perfectly aware that nothing but ill-humour was to be expected from aunt Norris; and was so provided with happiness, so strong in that best of blessings, an escape from many certain evils, that she could have stood against a great deal more indifference than she met with from the others.

Lady Bertram could not give her many words, but she was ready to kiss and like her; and Susan was satisfied; for she was so happy in her escape from many certain evils, that she could have stood against a great deal more indifference than she met with.


She was now left a good deal to herself, to get acquainted with the house and grounds as she could, and spent her days very happily in so doing, while those who might otherwise have attended to her were shut up, or wholly occupied each with the person quite dependent on them, at this time, for everything like comfort; Edmund trying to bury his own feelings in exertions for the relief of his brother's, and Fanny devoted to her aunt Bertram, returning to every former office with more than former zeal, and thinking she could never do enough for one who seemed so much to want her.

She was now left a good deal to herself, to get acquainted with the house and grounds as she could, and spent her days very happily in so doing, while those who might otherwise have attended to her were shut up, or wholly occupied with each other; Edmund trying to bury his own feelings in exertions for the relief of his brother's, and Fanny devoted to her aunt Bertram, and thinking she could never do enough for one who seemed so much to want her.


To talk over the dreadful business with Fanny, talk and lament, was all Lady Bertram's consolation.


To be listened to and borne with, and hear the voice of kindness and sympathy in return, was everything that could be done for her.

To listen and give her kindness and sympathy in return, was all that could be done for her.


To be otherwise comforted was out of the question.


Lady Bertram did not think deeply, but, guided by Sir Thomas, she thought justly on all important points; and she saw, therefore, in all its enormity, what had happened, and neither endeavoured herself, nor required Fanny to advise her, to think little of guilt and infamy.


Her affections were not acute, nor was her mind tenacious.


After a time, Fanny found it not impossible to direct her thoughts to other subjects, and revive some interest in the usual occupations; but whenever Lady Bertram _was_ fixed on the event, she could see it only in one light, as comprehending the loss of a daughter, and a disgrace never to be wiped off.

After a time, Fanny found it possible to direct her thoughts to other subjects, and revive some interest in her usual occupations; but whenever Lady Bertram thought of the event, she could see it only in one light, as comprehending the loss of a daughter, and a disgrace never to be wiped off.


Fanny learnt from her all the particulars which had yet transpired.


Her aunt was no very methodical narrator, but with the help of some letters to and from Sir Thomas, and what she already knew herself, and could reasonably combine, she was soon able to understand quite as much as she wished of the circumstances attending the story.

; and with the help of some letters to and from Sir Thomas, she was soon able to understand quite as much as she wished of the circumstances attending the story.


Mrs. Rushworth had gone, for the Easter holidays, to Twickenham, with a family whom she had just grown intimate with: a family of lively, agreeable manners, and probably of morals and discretion to suit, for to _their_ house Mr. Crawford had constant access at all times.

Mrs. Rushworth had gone, for the Easter holidays, to Twickenham, with a family whom she had grown intimate with: a family of lively, agreeable manners, and probably of morals and discretion to suit, for to their house Mr. Crawford had constant access at all times.


His having been in the same neighbourhood Fanny already knew.


Mr. Rushworth had been gone at this time to Bath, to pass a few days with his mother, and bring her back to town, and Maria was with these friends without any restraint, without even Julia; for Julia had removed from Wimpole Street two or three weeks before, on a visit to some relations of Sir Thomas; a removal which her father and mother were now disposed to attribute to some view of convenience on Mr. Yates's account.

Mr. Rushworth had been gone at this time to Bath, to pass a few days with his mother, and bring her back to town, and Maria was with these friends without any restraint, without even Julia; for Julia had removed from Wimpole Street two or three weeks before, on a visit to some relations of Sir Thomas; a removal which her father and mother were now disposed to attribute to Mr. Yates's account.


Very soon after the Rushworths' return to Wimpole Street, Sir Thomas had received a letter from an old and most particular friend in London, who hearing and witnessing a good deal to alarm him in that quarter, wrote to recommend Sir Thomas's coming to London himself, and using his influence with his daughter to put an end to the intimacy which was already exposing her to unpleasant remarks, and evidently making Mr. Rushworth uneasy.

Very soon after the Rushworths' return to Wimpole Street, Sir Thomas had received a letter from an old friend in London, who hearing and witnessing a good deal to alarm him in that quarter, wrote to advise Sir Thomas to come to London himself, and use his influence with his daughter to put an end to the intimacy which was already exposing her to unpleasant remarks, and evidently making Mr. Rushworth uneasy.


Sir Thomas was preparing to act upon this letter, without communicating its contents to any creature at Mansfield, when it was followed by another, sent express from the same friend, to break to him the almost desperate situation in which affairs then stood with the young people.

Sir Thomas was preparing to act upon this letter, when it was followed by another, sent express from the same friend, to break to him the almost desperate situation in which affairs then stood.


Mrs. Rushworth had left her husband's house: Mr. Rushworth had been in great anger and distress to _him_ (Mr. Harding) for his advice; Mr. Harding feared there had been _at_ _least_ very flagrant indiscretion.

Mrs. Rushworth had left her husband's house: Mr. Rushworth had been in great anger and distress to him (Mr. Harding) for his advice; Mr. Harding feared there had been at least very flagrant indiscretion.


The maidservant of Mrs. Rushworth, senior, threatened alarmingly.


He was doing all in his power to quiet everything, with the hope of Mrs. Rushworth's return, but was so much counteracted in Wimpole Street by the influence of Mr. Rushworth's mother, that the worst consequences might be apprehended.

He was doing all in his power to quiet everything, with the hope of Mrs. Rushworth's return, but was so much counteracted in Wimpole Street by the influence of Mr. Rushworth's mother, that the worst consequences might be feared.


This dreadful communication could not be kept from the rest of the family.


Sir Thomas set off, Edmund would go with him, and the others had been left in a state of wretchedness, inferior only to what followed the receipt of the next letters from London.

Sir Thomas set off with Edmund, and the others had been left in a state of wretchedness, made worse by the receipt of the next letters from London.


Everything was by that time public beyond a hope.


The servant of Mrs. Rushworth, the mother, had exposure in her power, and supported by her mistress, was not to be silenced.


The two ladies, even in the short time they had been together, had disagreed; and the bitterness of the elder against her daughter-in-law might perhaps arise almost as much from the personal disrespect with which she had herself been treated as from sensibility for her son.

The two Mrs. Rushworths, even in the short time they had been together, had disagreed; the bitterness of the elder against her daughter-in-law arising as much from the personal disrespect with which she had been treated as from her feelings for her son.


However that might be, she was unmanageable.


But had she been less obstinate, or of less weight with her son, who was always guided by the last speaker, by the person who could get hold of and shut him up, the case would still have been hopeless, for Mrs. Rushworth did not appear again, and there was every reason to conclude her to be concealed somewhere with Mr. Crawford, who had quitted his uncle's house, as for a journey, on the very day of her absenting herself.

But had she been less obstinate, the case would still have been hopeless, for Maria did not appear again, and there was every reason to conclude her to be concealed somewhere with Mr. Crawford, who had quitted his uncle's house on the very day of her absenting herself.


Sir Thomas, however, remained yet a little longer in town, in the hope of discovering and snatching her from farther vice, though all was lost on the side of character.

Sir Thomas, however, remained a little longer in town, in the hope of discovering and snatching her from further vice, though all was lost on the side of character.


_His_ present state Fanny could hardly bear to think of.

His present state Fanny could hardly bear to think of.


There was but one of his children who was not at this time a source of misery to him.

There was only one of his children who was not at this time a source of misery to him.


Tom's complaints had been greatly heightened by the shock of his sister's conduct, and his recovery so much thrown back by it, that even Lady Bertram had been struck by the difference, and all her alarms were regularly sent off to her husband; and Julia's elopement, the additional blow which had met him on his arrival in London, though its force had been deadened at the moment, must, she knew, be sorely felt.

Tom's illness had been so heightened by the shock of his sister's conduct, that even Lady Bertram had been struck by the difference, and all her alarms were regularly sent off to her husband; and Julia's elopement, the additional blow, though its force had been deadened at the moment, must, she knew, be sorely felt.


His letters expressed how much he deplored it.


Under any circumstances it would have been an unwelcome alliance; but to have it so clandestinely formed, and such a period chosen for its completion, placed Julia's feelings in a most unfavourable light, and severely aggravated the folly of her choice.

Under any circumstances it would have been an unwelcome alliance; but to have it so clandestinely formed, and at such a time, placed Julia in a most unfavourable light.


He called it a bad thing, done in the worst manner, and at the worst time; and though Julia was yet as more pardonable than Maria as folly than vice, he could not but regard the step she had taken as opening the worst probabilities of a conclusion hereafter like her sister's.

He called it a bad thing, done in the worst manner, and at the worst time; and though Julia's act was more pardonable than Maria's, as folly rather than vice, he regarded it as probable that her state would end up like her sister's.


Such was his opinion of the set into which she had thrown herself.


Every other child must be racking his heart.


His displeasure against herself she trusted, reasoning differently from Mrs. Norris, would now be done away.

His displeasure against herself, she trusted, would now be done away.


Mr. Crawford would have fully acquitted her conduct in refusing him; but this, though most material to herself, would be poor consolation to Sir Thomas.

in refusing Mr. Crawford; but this, though important to herself, would be poor consolation to Sir Thomas.


Her uncle's displeasure was terrible to her; but what could her justification or her gratitude and attachment do for him?

What could her justification or her attachment do for him?


She was mistaken, however, in supposing that Edmund gave his father no present pain.


It was of a much less poignant nature than what the others excited; but Sir Thomas was considering his happiness as very deeply involved in the offence of his sister and friend; cut off by it, as he must be, from the woman whom he had been pursuing with undoubted attachment and strong probability of success; and who, in everything but this despicable brother, would have been so eligible a connexion.

It was of a less poignant nature than that caused by the others; but Sir Thomas considered Edmund's happiness as very deeply involved, cut off, as he must be, from the woman whom he had been pursuing with undoubted attachment and strong probability of success; and who, in everything but her despicable brother, would have been so eligible a connexion.


He was aware of what Edmund must be suffering on his own behalf, in addition to all the rest, when they were in town: he had seen or conjectured his feelings; and, having reason to think that one interview with Miss Crawford had taken place, from which Edmund derived only increased distress, had been as anxious on that account as on others to get him out of town, and had engaged him in taking Fanny home to her aunt, with a view to his relief and benefit, no less than theirs.

He was aware of what Edmund must be suffering, when they were in town. He had guessed his feelings; and, having reason to think that one interview with Miss Crawford had taken place, from which Edmund derived only increased distress, had been anxious on that account to get him out of town, and had engaged him in taking Fanny home to her aunt, with a view to his relief no less than theirs.


Fanny was not in the secret of her uncle's feelings, Sir Thomas not in the secret of Miss Crawford's character.

Sir Thomas was not in the secret of Miss Crawford's character.


Had he been privy to her conversation with his son, he would not have wished her to belong to him, though her twenty thousand pounds had been forty.


That Edmund must be for ever divided from Miss Crawford did not admit of a doubt with Fanny; and yet, till she knew that he felt the same, her own conviction was insufficient.

Fanny had no doubt that Edmund must be for ever divided from Miss Crawford; and yet, till she knew that he felt the same, her own conviction was not enough.


She thought he did, but she wanted to be assured of it.


If he would now speak to her with the unreserve which had sometimes been too much for her before, it would be most consoling; but _that_ she found was not to be.

If he would now speak to her, it would be most consoling; but that was not to be.


He probably avoided being alone with her.


That his judgment submitted to all his own peculiar and bitter share of this family affliction, but that it was too keenly felt to be a subject of the slightest communication.

, his own affliction being too keenly felt to be communicated.


He yielded, but it was with agonies which did not admit of speech.

He yielded, but with agonies which did not admit of speech.


Long, long would it be ere Miss Crawford's name passed his lips again, or she could hope for a renewal of such confidential intercourse as had been.

Long would it be before Miss Crawford's name passed his lips again.


They reached Mansfield on Thursday, and it was not till Sunday evening that Edmund began to talk to her on the subject.

They reached Mansfield on Thursday, and it was not till Sunday that Edmund began to talk to her on the subject.


Sitting with her on Sunday evening-a wet Sunday evening-the very time of all others when, if a friend is at hand, the heart must be opened, and everything told; no one else in the room, except his mother, who, after hearing an affecting sermon, had cried herself to sleep, it was impossible not to speak; and so, with the usual beginnings, hardly to be traced as to what came first, and the usual declaration that if she would listen to him for a few minutes, he should be very brief, and certainly never tax her kindness in the same way again; she need not fear a repetition; it would be a subject prohibited entirely: he entered upon the luxury of relating circumstances and sensations of the first interest to himself, to one of whose affectionate sympathy he was quite convinced.

Sitting with her on a wet Sunday evening-the very time when the heart must be opened, and everything told; no one else in the room, except his mother, who was asleep, it was impossible not to speak. And so, with the declaration that if she would listen to him for a few minutes, he should be very brief, and never tax her kindness in the same way again; he entered upon the luxury of relating circumstances and sensations of the first interest to himself, to one of whose affectionate sympathy he was quite convinced.


How Fanny listened, with what curiosity and concern, what pain and what delight, how the agitation of his voice was watched, and how carefully her own eyes were fixed on any object but himself, may be imagined.

How Fanny listened, with what curiosity and concern, what pain and what delight, how carefully her own eyes were fixed on any object but himself, may be imagined.


He had received a note from Lady Stornaway to beg him to call; and regarding it as what was meant to be the last, last interview of friendship, and investing her with all the feelings of shame and wretchedness which Crawford's sister ought to have known, he had gone to her in such a state of mind, so softened, so devoted, as made it for a few moments impossible to Fanny's fears that it should be the last.

He had received a note from Lady Stornaway begging him to call; and regarding it as what must be the last, last interview of friendship, and imagining the shame and wretchedness which Crawford's sister ought to have felt, he had gone to her in such a softened and devoted state of mind, as made it impossible to Fanny's fears that it should be the last.


But as he proceeded in his story, these fears were over.


She had met him, he said, with a serious-certainly a serious-even an agitated air; but before he had been able to speak one intelligible sentence, she had introduced the subject in a manner which he owned had shocked him.

She had met him, he said, with a serious, even an agitated air; but before he had been able to speak one sentence, she had introduced the subject in a manner which had shocked him.


"'I heard you were in town,' said she; 'I wanted to see you.


What can equal the folly of our two relations?'


I could not answer, but I believe my looks spoke.


With a graver look and voice she then added, 'I do not mean to defend Henry at your sister's expense.'

With a graver look she then added, 'I do not mean to defend Henry at your sister's expense.'


So she began, but how she went on, Fanny, is not fit, is hardly fit to be repeated to you.

So she began, but how she went on, Fanny, is hardly fit to be repeated to you.


Their substance was great anger at the _folly_ of each.

Their substance was great anger at the folly of each.


She reprobated her brother's folly in being drawn on by a woman whom he had never cared for, to do what must lose him the woman he adored; but still more the folly of poor Maria, in sacrificing such a situation, plunging into such difficulties, under the idea of being really loved by a man who had long ago made his indifference clear.

Her brother's folly in being drawn on by a woman whom he had never cared for, to do what must lose him the woman he adored; but still more the folly of poor Maria, in sacrificing such a situation, under the idea of being really loved by a man who had long ago made his indifference clear.


To hear the woman whom-no harsher name than folly given!


So voluntarily, so freely, so coolly to canvass it!


No reluctance, no horror, no feminine, shall I say, no modest loathings?

No reluctance, no horror, no modest loathings?


For where, Fanny, shall we find a woman whom nature had so richly endowed?


After a little reflection, he went on with a sort of desperate calmness.


"I will tell you everything, and then have done for ever.


She saw it only as folly, and that folly stamped only by exposure.


The want of common discretion, of caution: his going down to Richmond for the whole time of her being at Twickenham; her putting herself in the power of a servant; it was the detection, in short-oh, Fanny!

The want of caution: Maria's putting herself in the power of a servant; it was the detection, in short-oh, Fanny!


it was the detection, not the offence, which she reprobated.

it was the detection, not the offence, which she deplored.


It was the imprudence which had brought things to extremity, and obliged her brother to give up every dearer plan in order to fly with her."


"And what," said Fanny (believing herself required to speak), "what could you say?"


She went on, began to talk of you; yes, then she began to talk of you, regretting, as well she might, the loss of such a-.

She began to talk of you; regretting, as well she might, the loss of such a-.


'He has thrown away,' said she, 'such a woman as he will never see again.


She would have fixed him; she would have made him happy for ever.'


My dearest Fanny, I am giving you, I hope, more pleasure than pain by this retrospect of what might have been-but what never can be now.

My dearest Fanny, I am giving you, I hope, more pleasure than pain by this retrospect of what might have been-but never can be now.


If you do, give me but a look, a word, and I have done."


"We were all disposed to wonder, but it seems to have been the merciful appointment of Providence that the heart which knew no guile should not suffer.

"It seems to have been the merciful gift of Providence that the heart which knew no guile should not suffer.


She spoke of you with high praise and warm affection; yet, even here, there was alloy, a dash of evil; for in the midst of it she could exclaim, 'Why would not she have him?

She spoke of you with high praise and warm affection; yet, even here, there was a dash of evil; for in the midst of it she exclaimed, 'Why would not she have him?


Had she accepted him as she ought, they might now have been on the point of marriage, and Henry would have been too happy and too busy to want any other object.

Had she accepted him as she ought, they might now have been on the point of marriage, and Henry would have been too happy and busy to want any other object.


He would have taken no pains to be on terms with Mrs. Rushworth again.


It would have all ended in a regular standing flirtation, in yearly meetings at Sotherton and Everingham.'


At such a moment to give way to gaiety, to speak with lightness, and to you!

At such a moment to speak with lightness, and to you!


I do not consider her as meaning to wound my feelings.


The evil lies yet deeper: in her total ignorance, unsuspiciousness of there being such feelings; in a perversion of mind which made it natural to her to treat the subject as she did.


She was speaking only as she had been used to hear others speak, as she imagined everybody else would speak.


She would not voluntarily give unnecessary pain to any one, and though I may deceive myself, I cannot but think that for me, for my feelings, she would-.


Hers are faults of principle, Fanny; of blunted delicacy and a corrupted, vitiated mind.

Hers are faults of principle, Fanny; of blunted delicacy and a corrupted, damaged mind.


Perhaps it is best for me, since it leaves me so little to regret.


Gladly would I submit to all the increased pain of losing her, rather than have to think of her as I do.


Well, she went on to say that what remained now to be done was to bring about a marriage between them.

She went on to say that what remained now to be done was to bring about a marriage between them.


She spoke of it, Fanny, with a steadier voice than I can."


He was obliged to pause more than once as he continued.


"'We must persuade Henry to marry her,' said she; 'and what with honour, and the certainty of having shut himself out for ever from Fanny, I do not despair of it.


I do not think that even _he_ could now hope to succeed with one of her stamp, and therefore I hope we may find no insuperable difficulty.

I do not think that even he could now hope to succeed with one of her stamp.


My influence, which is not small shall all go that way; and when once married, and properly supported by her own family, people of respectability as they are, she may recover her footing in society to a certain degree.

My influence shall all go that way; and when once married, and properly supported by her own family, respectable as they are, she may recover her footing in society to a certain degree.


In some circles, we know, she would never be admitted, but with good dinners, and large parties, there will always be those who will be glad of her acquaintance; and there is, undoubtedly, more liberality and candour on those points than formerly.

In some circles, we know, she would never be admitted, but there will always be those who will be glad of her acquaintance; and there is more liberality on those points than formerly.


What I advise is, that your father be quiet.


Do not let him injure his own cause by interference.


Persuade him to let things take their course.


If by any officious exertions of his, she is induced to leave Henry's protection, there will be much less chance of his marrying her than if she remain with him.

If by any interference of his, she is induced to leave Henry's protection, there will be much less chance of his marrying her than if she remain with him.


I know how he is likely to be influenced.