Chapter XVII

by Jane Austen

　　It was, indeed, a triumphant day to Mr. Bertram and Maria.Such a victory over Edmund's discretion had been beyondtheir hopes, and was most delightful. There was nolonger anything to disturb them in their darling project,and they congratulated each other in private on thejealous weakness to which they attributed the change,with all the glee of feelings gratified in every way.Edmund might still look grave, and say he did not like thescheme in general, and must disapprove the play in particular;their point was gained: he was to act, and he wasdriven to it by the force of selfish inclinations only.Edmund had descended from that moral elevation which hehad maintained before, and they were both as much the betteras the happier for the descent.They behaved very well, however, to _him_ on the occasion,betraying no exultation beyond the lines about the cornersof the mouth, and seemed to think it as great an escapeto be quit of the intrusion of Charles Maddox, as if theyhad been forced into admitting him against their inclination."To have it quite in their own family circle was whatthey had particularly wished. A stranger among themwould have been the destruction of all their comfort";and when Edmund, pursuing that idea, gave a hint of his hopeas to the limitation of the audience, they were ready,in the complaisance of the moment, to promise anything.It was all good-humour and encouragement. Mrs. Norrisoffered to contrive his dress, Mr. Yates assured himthat Anhalt's last scene with the Baron admitted a gooddeal of action and emphasis, and Mr. Rushworth undertookto count his speeches."Perhaps," said Tom, "Fanny may be more disposed to obligeus now. Perhaps you may persuade _her_.""No, she is quite determined. She certainly will not act.""Oh! very well." And not another word was said; but Fannyfelt herself again in danger, and her indifferenceto the danger was beginning to fail her already.There were not fewer smiles at the Parsonage than at the Parkon this change in Edmund; Miss Crawford looked very lovelyin hers, and entered with such an instantaneous renewalof cheerfulness into the whole affair as could have butone effect on him. "He was certainly right in respectingsuch feelings; he was glad he had determined on it."And the morning wore away in satisfactions very sweet,if not very sound. One advantage resulted from itto Fanny: at the earnest request of Miss Crawford,Mrs. Grant had, with her usual good-humour, agreedto undertake the part for which Fanny had been wanted;and this was all that occurred to gladden _her_ heartduring the day; and even this, when imparted by Edmund,brought a pang with it, for it was Miss Crawford towhom she was obliged--it was Miss Crawford whose kindexertions were to excite her gratitude, and whose meritin making them was spoken of with a glow of admiration.She was safe; but peace and safety were unconnected here.Her mind had been never farther from peace. She couldnot feel that she had done wrong herself, but she wasdisquieted in every other way. Her heart and her judgmentwere equally against Edmund's decision: she could notacquit his unsteadiness, and his happiness under it madeher wretched. She was full of jealousy and agitation.Miss Crawford came with looks of gaiety which seemedan insult, with friendly expressions towards herselfwhich she could hardly answer calmly. Everybody aroundher was gay and busy, prosperous and important; each hadtheir object of interest, their part, their dress,their favourite scene, their friends and confederates:all were finding employment in consultations and comparisons,or diversion in the playful conceits they suggested.She alone was sad and insignificant: she had no sharein anything; she might go or stay; she might be in themidst of their noise, or retreat from it to the solitudeof the East room, without being seen or missed. She couldalmost think anything would have been preferable to this.Mrs. Grant was of consequence: _her_ good-nature hadhonourable mention; her taste and her time were considered;her presence was wanted; she was sought for, and attended,and praised; and Fanny was at first in some dangerof envying her the character she had accepted.But reflection brought better feelings, and shewed herthat Mrs. Grant was entitled to respect, which could neverhave belonged to _her_; and that, had she received eventhe greatest, she could never have been easy in joininga scheme which, considering only her uncle, she mustcondemn altogether.Fanny's heart was not absolutely the only saddened oneamongst them, as she soon began to acknowledge to herself.Julia was a sufferer too, though not quite so blamelessly.Henry Crawford had trifled with her feelings; but shehad very long allowed and even sought his attentions,with a jealousy of her sister so reasonable as oughtto have been their cure; and now that the convictionof his preference for Maria had been forced on her,she submitted to it without any alarm for Maria's situation,or any endeavour at rational tranquillity for herself.She either sat in gloomy silence, wrapt in such gravityas nothing could subdue, no curiosity touch, no wit amuse;or allowing the attentions of Mr. Yates, was talking withforced gaiety to him alone, and ridiculing the acting ofthe others.For a day or two after the affront was given,Henry Crawford had endeavoured to do it away by the usualattack of gallantry and compliment, but he had not caredenough about it to persevere against a few repulses;and becoming soon too busy with his play to have timefor more than one flirtation, he grew indifferent tothe quarrel, or rather thought it a lucky occurrence,as quietly putting an end to what might ere longhave raised expectations in more than Mrs. Grant.She was not pleased to see Julia excluded from the play,and sitting by disregarded; but as it was not a matterwhich really involved her happiness, as Henry must be thebest judge of his own, and as he did assure her, with amost persuasive smile, that neither he nor Julia had everhad a serious thought of each other, she could only renewher former caution as to the elder sister, entreat himnot to risk his tranquillity by too much admiration there,and then gladly take her share in anything that broughtcheerfulness to the young people in general, and that didso particularly promote the pleasure of the two so dear to her."I rather wonder Julia is not in love with Henry,"was her observation to Mary."I dare say she is," replied Mary coldly. "I imagineboth sisters are.""Both! no, no, that must not be. Do not give him a hintof it. Think of Mr. Rushworth!""You had better tell Miss Bertram to think of Mr. Rushworth.It may do _her_ some good. I often think of Mr. Rushworth'sproperty and independence, and wish them in other hands;but I never think of him. A man might represent the countywith such an estate; a man might escape a professionand represent the county.""I dare say he _will_ be in parliament soon. When SirThomas comes, I dare say he will be in for some borough,but there has been nobody to put him in the way of doinganything yet.""Sir Thomas is to achieve many mighty things when hecomes home," said Mary, after a pause. "Do you rememberHawkins Browne's 'Address to Tobacco,' in imitationof Pope?--Blest leaf! whose aromatic gales dispenseTo Templars modesty, to Parsons sense.I will parody them--Blest Knight! whose dictatorial looks dispenseTo Children affluence, to Rushworth sense.Will not that do, Mrs. Grant? Everything seems to dependupon Sir Thomas's return.""You will find his consequence very just and reasonablewhen you see him in his family, I assure you. I do not thinkwe do so well without him. He has a fine dignified manner,which suits the head of such a house, and keeps everybodyin their place. Lady Bertram seems more of a ciphernow than when he is at home; and nobody else can keepMrs. Norris in order. But, Mary, do not fancy that MariaBertram cares for Henry. I am sure _Julia_ does not,or she would not have flirted as she did last night withMr. Yates; and though he and Maria are very good friends,I think she likes Sotherton too well to be inconstant.""I would not give much for Mr. Rushworth's chance if Henrystept in before the articles were signed.""If you have such a suspicion, something must be done;and as soon as the play is all over, we will talk to himseriously and make him know his own mind; and if hemeans nothing, we will send him off, though he is Henry,for a time."Julia _did_ suffer, however, though Mrs. Grant discernedit not, and though it escaped the notice of many of herown family likewise. She had loved, she did love still,and she had all the suffering which a warm temper and ahigh spirit were likely to endure under the disappointmentof a dear, though irrational hope, with a strong senseof ill-usage. Her heart was sore and angry, and shewas capable only of angry consolations. The sisterwith whom she was used to be on easy terms was now becomeher greatest enemy: they were alienated from each other;and Julia was not superior to the hope of some distressingend to the attentions which were still carrying on there,some punishment to Maria for conduct so shameful towardsherself as well as towards Mr. Rushworth. With no materialfault of temper, or difference of opinion, to preventtheir being very good friends while their interestswere the same, the sisters, under such a trial as this,had not affection or principle enough to make them mercifulor just, to give them honour or compassion. Maria felther triumph, and pursued her purpose, careless of Julia;and Julia could never see Maria distinguished by HenryCrawford without trusting that it would create jealousy,and bring a public disturbance at last.Fanny saw and pitied much of this in Julia; but therewas no outward fellowship between them. Julia madeno communication, and Fanny took no liberties. They weretwo solitary sufferers, or connected only by Fanny's consciousness.The inattention of the two brothers and the aunt toJulia's discomposure, and their blindness to its true cause,must be imputed to the fullness of their own minds.They were totally preoccupied. Tom was engrossed bythe concerns of his theatre, and saw nothing that didnot immediately relate to it. Edmund, between histheatrical and his real part, between Miss Crawford'sclaims and his own conduct, between love and consistency,was equally unobservant; and Mrs. Norris was too busyin contriving and directing the general little mattersof the company, superintending their various dresseswith economical expedient, for which nobody thanked her,and saving, with delighted integrity, half a crown here andthere to the absent Sir Thomas, to have leisure for watchingthe behaviour, or guarding the happiness of his daughters.