My suspicions were every moment being confirmed. She had only had bad examples before her and so it was not to be wondered at that she should feel as she did. But I hoped that when she had seen more she would change her mind; and I knew her to be so reasonable that I did not have a doubt of it.
‘It is a great defect of temper, and to see your sister suffering from it must be exceedingly painful to such feelings as yours,’ I acknowledged. ‘Fanny, it goes against us. We cannot attempt to defend Dr Grant.’
‘No, but we need not give up his profession for all that,’ said Fanny. ‘Besides, a sensible man like Dr Grant cannot go to church twice every Sunday, and preach such very good sermons, without being the better for it himself. It must make him think; and I have no doubt that he oftener endeavors 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,’ said Miss Crawford satirically. ‘For though he may preach himself into a good humor every Sunday, it will be bad enough to have him quarrelling about green geese from Monday morning till Saturday night.’
‘I think the man who could often quarrel with Fanny must be beyond the reach of any sermons,’ I said affectionately.
Fanny smiled, and turned her face to the window so that I should not see how much my words had pleased her. I thought how pretty she was looking, and I was glad that my father was returning, so that she would soon be able to take part in all the pleasures of life to which her growing maturity entitled her.
‘I fancy Miss Price has been more used to deserve praise than to hear it,’ said Miss Crawford, seeing how shyly she received the compliment.
I was about to say that that would change when Fanny went more into society, but I was forestalled by Maria calling for Miss Crawford from the pianoforte, and inviting her to join them in a glee.
Miss Crawford agreed at once, tripping off to the instrument. I looked after her, thinking what a wonderful woman she was, from her obliging manners down to her light and graceful tread.
‘There goes good humor, I am sure,’ I said. ‘How well she walks! and how readily she falls in with the inclination of others! joining them the moment she is asked. What a pity that she should have been in such hands!’
Fanny agreed, for if Miss Crawford had had better friends and relatives, it was clear to both of us that her opinions would have matched our own.
We remained by the window and looked out into the darkening night. all that was solemn and soothing and lovely appeared in the brilliancy of the unclouded sky, and the contrast of the deep shade of the woods.
‘Here’s harmony!’ said Fanny softly. ‘Here’s repose! Here’s what may leave all painting and all music behind, and what poetry only can attempt to describe! Here’s what may tranquillize 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.’
She spoke with great feeling, and I said it was a great pity that not everyone had been given a taste of nature, for they lost a great deal by it.
‘You taught me to think and feel on the subject,’ she said with a warm smile.
‘I had a very apt scholar,’ I replied. I turned my head to look up at the star-speckled sky. ‘There’s Arcturus looking very bright.’
‘Yes, and the Bear,’ mused Fanny. ‘I wish I could see Cassiopeia. ’
‘We must go out on the lawn for that. Should you be afraid?’
‘Not in the least. It is a great while since we have had any stargazing.’
‘I do not know how it has happened,’ I said.
I was about to give her my arm and suggest we supply our recent lack, when the bustle around the pianoforte died down and the music began.
‘We will stay till this is finished, Fanny,’ I said.
I walked over to the instrument and as I did so Miss Crawford began to sing. I was enchanted by her voice which flowed, silvery, into the warm night; and I was enraptured by the sight of her standing with her hands clasped in front of her, showing the delicacy of her white arms and the grace of her carriage. I was so enchanted by the whole that, when it was over, I asked to hear it again.
The evening at last broke up and I walked Miss Crawford’s party back to the rectory. It was only when I returned to the Park that I realized that Fanny and I had not had our stargazing, after all.
Saturday 27 August
Tom has returned and has regaled us all with stories of Brighton and Weymouth, of parties and friends, and all his doings of the last six weeks. I watched Miss Crawford, fearing to see signs of her earlier liking for him returning but, although she listened politely to everything he had to say, she seemed more interested in talking to me. It relieved me more than I can say. Her face, her voice, her carriage, her air, all delight me. Indeed, I find myself thinking that, if I had anything to offer her, I would be in some danger, for she is the most bewitching woman I have ever met.
Monday 29 August
Henry Crawford has returned to his own estate in Norfolk, for he cannot afford to be absent in September when there is so much to be done. My sisters seem listless without him, for they have both greatly enjoyed his company, but Miss Crawford and Fanny are the same as ever and their spirits carry us through.
Tuesday 30 August
Owen wrote to me this morning inviting me to stay with his family again at Christmas. He suggested I make it a longer visit than previously, as we are going to be ordained together, and I have accepted.
SEPTEMBER
Monday 12 September
After a fortnight’s absence, Henry Crawford is with us once more. He made a welcome addition to our party this evening, for I fear we were all tired of hearing Rushworth’s commentary on his day’s sport, his boasts of his dogs, his jealousies of his neighbours and his zeal after poachers. Indeed, he seems to have no other conversation.
Fanny was surprised at Crawford’s return, for he had told us often that he was fond of change and moving about and she had thought he would have gone on to somewhere gayer than Mansfield. But I was pleased he had come back, for I was sure his presence gave his sister pleasure.
‘What a favorite he is with my cousins!’ Fanny remarked.
I agreed that his manners to women were such as must please and I was heartened to find that Mrs. Grant suspected him of a preference for Julia.
‘I have never seen much symptom of it,’ I confessed to Fanny, ‘but I wish it may be so. He has no faults but what a serious attachment would remove, and I think he would make her a good husband.’
Fanny was silent and looked at the floor. After a minute she said cautiously, ‘If Miss Bertram were not engaged, I could sometimes almost think that he admired her more than Julia.’
‘Which is, perhaps, more in favor of his liking Julia best, than you, Fanny, may be aware,’ I told her kindly, for she has seen very little of the world. ‘I believe it often happens that a man, before he has quite made up his own mind, will distinguish the sister or intimate friend of the woman he is really thinking of more than the woman herself. Crawford has too much sense to stay here if he found himself in any danger from Maria, engaged as she is to Rushworth.’