Mansfield Park HTML version
Edmund had determined that it belonged entirely to Fanny to choose whether her
situation with regard to Crawford should be mentioned between them or not; and
that if she did not lead the way, it should never be touched on by him; but after a
day or two of mutual reserve, he was induced by his father to change his mind,
and try what his influence might do for his friend.
A day, and a very early day, was actually fixed for the Crawfords' departure; and
Sir Thomas thought it might be as well to make one more effort for the young
man before he left Mansfield, that all his professions and vows of unshaken
attachment might have as much hope to sustain them as possible.
Sir Thomas was most cordially anxious for the perfection of Mr. Crawford's
character in that point. He wished him to be a model of constancy; and fancied
the best means of effecting it would be by not trying him too long.
Edmund was not unwilling to be persuaded to engage in the business; he wanted
to know Fanny's feelings. She had been used to consult him in every difficulty,
and he loved her too well to bear to be denied her confidence now; he hoped to
be of service to her, he thought he must be of service to her; whom else had she
to open her heart to? If she did not need counsel, she must need the comfort of
communication. Fanny estranged from him, silent and reserved, was an
unnatural state of things; a state which he must break through, and which he
could easily learn to think she was wanting him to break through.
"I will speak to her, sir: I will take the first opportunity of speaking to her alone,"
was the result of such thoughts as these; and upon Sir Thomas's information of
her being at that very time walking alone in the shrubbery, he instantly joined her.
"I am come to walk with you, Fanny," said he. "Shall I?" Drawing her arm within
his. "It is a long while since we have had a comfortable walk together."
She assented to it all rather by look than word. Her spirits were low.
"But, Fanny," he presently added, "in order to have a comfortable walk,
something more is necessary than merely pacing this gravel together. You must
talk to me. I know you have something on your mind. I know what you are
thinking of. You cannot suppose me uninformed. Am I to hear of it from
everybody but Fanny herself?"
Fanny, at once agitated and dejected, replied, "If you hear of it from everybody,
cousin, there can be nothing for me to tell."
"Not of facts, perhaps; but of feelings, Fanny. No one but you can tell me them. I
do not mean to press you, however. If it is not what you wish yourself, I have
done. I had thought it might be a relief."
"I am afraid we think too differently for me to find any relief in talking of what I
"Do you suppose that we think differently? I have no idea of it. I dare say that, on
a comparison of our opinions, they would be found as much alike as they have
been used to be: to the point--I consider Crawford's proposals as most
advantageous and desirable, if you could return his affection. I consider it as
most natural that all your family should wish you could return it; but that, as you