Chapter XLIII

by Jane Austen

　　It was presumed that Mr. Crawford was travelling back,to London, on the morrow, for nothing more was seenof him at Mr. Price's; and two days afterwards, it wasa fact ascertained to Fanny by the following letter fromhis sister, opened and read by her, on another account,with the most anxious curiosity:--"I have to inform you, my dearest Fanny, that Henryhas been down to Portsmouth to see you; that he had adelightful walk with you to the dockyard last Saturday,and one still more to be dwelt on the next day,on the ramparts; when the balmy air, the sparkling sea,and your sweet looks and conversation were altogetherin the most delicious harmony, and afforded sensationswhich are to raise ecstasy even in retrospect. This, as wellas I understand, is to be the substance of my information.He makes me write, but I do not know what else is tobe communicated, except this said visit to Portsmouth,and these two said walks, and his introduction toyour family, especially to a fair sister of yours, a finegirl of fifteen, who was of the party on the ramparts,taking her first lesson, I presume, in love. I havenot time for writing much, but it would be out of placeif I had, for this is to be a mere letter of business,penned for the purpose of conveying necessary information,which could not be delayed without risk of evil. My dear,dear Fanny, if I had you here, how I would talk to you!You should listen to me till you were tired, and adviseme till you were still tired more; but it is impossibleto put a hundredth part of my great mind on paper,so I will abstain altogether, and leave you to guess whatyou like. I have no news for you. You have politics,of course; and it would be too bad to plague you withthe names of people and parties that fill up my time.I ought to have sent you an account of your cousin'sfirst party, but I was lazy, and now it is too long ago;suffice it, that everything was just as it ought to be,in a style that any of her connexions must have beengratified to witness, and that her own dress and manners didher the greatest credit. My friend, Mrs. Fraser, is madfor such a house, and it would not make _me_ miserable.I go to Lady Stornaway after Easter; she seems in high spirits,and very happy. I fancy Lord S. is very good-humouredand pleasant in his own family, and I do not think him sovery ill-looking as I did--at least, one sees many worse.He will not do by the side of your cousin Edmund.Of the last-mentioned hero, what shall I say? If Iavoided his name entirely, it would look suspicious.I will say, then, that we have seen him two or three times,and that my friends here are very much struck with hisgentlemanlike appearance. Mrs. Fraser (no bad judge)declares she knows but three men in town who have so gooda person, height, and air; and I must confess, when he dinedhere the other day, there were none to compare with him,and we were a party of sixteen. Luckily there is nodistinction of dress nowadays to tell tales, but--but--but Yours affectionately."I had almost forgot (it was Edmund's fault: he gets intomy head more than does me good) one very material thing Ihad to say from Henry and myself--I mean about our takingyou back into Northamptonshire. My dear little creature,do not stay at Portsmouth to lose your pretty looks.Those vile sea-breezes are the ruin of beauty and health.My poor aunt always felt affected if within ten milesof the sea, which the Admiral of course never believed,but I know it was so. I am at your service and Henry's,at an hour's notice. I should like the scheme, and we wouldmake a little circuit, and shew you Everingham in our way,and perhaps you would not mind passing through London,and seeing the inside of St. George's, Hanover Square.Only keep your cousin Edmund from me at such a time:I should not like to be tempted. What a long letter!one word more. Henry, I find, has some idea of goinginto Norfolk again upon some business that _you_ approve;but this cannot possibly be permitted before the middleof next week; that is, he cannot anyhow be spared tillafter the l4th, for _we_ have a party that evening.The value of a man like Henry, on such an occasion,is what you can have no conception of; so you must take itupon my word to be inestimable. He will see the Rushworths,which own I am not sorry for--having a little curiosity,and so I think has he--though he will not acknowledgeit."This was a letter to be run through eagerly, to beread deliberately, to supply matter for much reflection,and to leave everything in greater suspense than ever.The only certainty to be drawn from it was, that nothingdecisive had yet taken place. Edmund had not yet spoken.How Miss Crawford really felt, how she meant to act,or might act without or against her meaning; whether hisimportance to her were quite what it had been beforethe last separation; whether, if lessened, it were likelyto lessen more, or to recover itself, were subjectsfor endless conjecture, and to be thought of on that dayand many days to come, without producing any conclusion.The idea that returned the oftenest was that Miss Crawford,after proving herself cooled and staggered by a returnto London habits, would yet prove herself in the endtoo much attached to him to give him up. She wouldtry to be more ambitious than her heart would allow.She would hesitate, she would tease, she would condition,she would require a great deal, but she would finallyaccept.This was Fanny's most frequent expectation. A housein town--that, she thought, must be impossible.Yet there was no saying what Miss Crawford might not ask.The prospect for her cousin grew worse and worse.The woman who could speak of him, and speak only ofhis appearance! What an unworthy attachment! To bederiving support from the commendations of Mrs. Fraser!_She_ who had known him intimately half a year!Fanny was ashamed of her. Those parts of the letter whichrelated only to Mr. Crawford and herself, touched her,in comparison, slightly. Whether Mr. Crawford wentinto Norfolk before or after the 14th was certainlyno concern of hers, though, everything considered,she thought he _would_ go without delay. That MissCrawford should endeavour to secure a meeting between himand Mrs. Rushworth, was all in her worst line of conduct,and grossly unkind and ill-judged; but she hoped _he_would not be actuated by any such degrading curiosity.He acknowledged no such inducement, and his sisterought to have given him credit for better feelings thanher own.She was yet more impatient for another letter fromtown after receiving this than she had been before;and for a few days was so unsettled by it altogether,by what had come, and what might come, that her usualreadings and conversation with Susan were much suspended.She could not command her attention as she wished.If Mr. Crawford remembered her message to her cousin,she thought it very likely, most likely, that he would writeto her at all events; it would be most consistent with hisusual kindness; and till she got rid of this idea, till itgradually wore off, by no letters appearing in the courseof three or four days more, she was in a most restless,anxious stateAt length, a something like composure succeeded.Suspense must be submitted to, and must not be allowedto wear her out, and make her useless. Time did something,her own exertions something more, and she resumed herattentions to Susan, and again awakened the same interestin them.Susan was growing very fond of her, and though withoutany of the early delight in books which had beenso strong in Fanny, with a disposition much lessinclined to sedentary pursuits, or to information forinformation's sake, she had so strong a desire of not_appearing_ ignorant, as, with a good clear understanding,made her a most attentive, profitable, thankful pupil.Fanny was her oracle. Fanny's explanations and remarkswere a most important addition to every essay, or everychapter of history. What Fanny told her of former timesdwelt more on her mind than the pages of Goldsmith; and shepaid her sister the compliment of preferring her styleto that of any printed author. The early habit of reading waswanting.Their conversations, however, were not always on subjectsso high as history or morals. Others had their hour;and of lesser matters, none returned so often,or remained so long between them, as Mansfield Park,a description of the people, the manners, the amusements,the ways of Mansfield Park. Susan, who had an innate tastefor the genteel and well-appointed, was eager to hear,and Fanny could not but indulge herself in dwelling onso beloved a theme. She hoped it was not wrong; though,after a time, Susan's very great admiration of everythingsaid or done in her uncle's house, and earnest longingto go into Northamptonshire, seemed almost to blameher for exciting feelings which could not be gratified.Poor Susan was very little better fitted for homethan her elder sister; and as Fanny grew thoroughlyto understand this, she began to feel that when herown release from Portsmouth came, her happiness wouldhave a material drawback in leaving Susan behind.That a girl so capable of being made everything good shouldbe left in such hands, distressed her more and more.Were _she_ likely to have a home to invite her to,what a blessing it would be! And had it been possiblefor her to return Mr. Crawford's regard, the probabilityof his being very far from objecting to such a measure wouldhave been the greatest increase of all her own comforts.She thought he was really good-tempered, and could fancyhis entering into a plan of that sort most pleasantly.