‘How happy Fanny is,’ she said, glancing towards the side of the room where Fanny sat, with face aglow, watching and listening to William. ‘I am sure I have never looked at Henry like that.’
‘But perhaps you would if you had not seen him for years, and had been parted when you were ten years old.’
‘I am glad for her. She has a good heart, and she deserves her happiness.’
This could not help but warm me, and her brother warmed me more when he offered William a horse so that he could join us in our ride tomorrow.
Fanny’s face was a mixture of heartfelt gratitude for such kindness to her brother, and fear that he would take a fall.
‘Nonsense!’ said William. ‘After all the scrambling parties I have been on, the rough horses and mules I have ridden, and the falls I have escaped, you have nothing to fear.’
‘Do not worry, Miss Price. I will bring him back to you in one piece,’ said Crawford indulgently. The party broke up in good humor, with an arrangement for us all to dine together tomorrow.
Thursday 15 December
We had a fine day’s sport, and once Fanny saw William come home safely again she was able to value Crawford’s kindness as it should be valued, free of the taint of fear. She was so much reassured by William’s return, without so much as a scratch, that she was able to smile when Crawford said, during dinner at the Parsonage, ‘You must keep the horse for the duration of your visit, Mr. Price.’
‘I thought your brother was going to return to his estate?’ I asked Mary.
‘He was, but he has changed his mind. We have Fanny and William to thank for keeping him here,’ she said. ‘He has decided to stay indefinitely.’
Crawford looked round.
‘What was that? Did someone say my name?’
‘I was telling Mr. Bertram that you had decided to stay with us instead of returning to your estate.’
‘Yes, indeed. I find the place suits me. When I was out riding this morning, I found myself in Thornton Lacey,’ he went on. ‘Is not that the living you are to have, Bertram?’
‘It is. And how did you like what you saw?’ I asked.
‘Very much indeed. You are a lucky fellow,’ he said, adding satirically, ‘there will be work for five summers at least before the place is livable.’
‘No, no, not so bad as that!’ I protested. ‘The farmyard must be moved, I grant you; but I am not aware of anything else. The house is by no means bad, and when the yard is removed, there may be a very tolerable approach to it. I think the house and premises may be made comfortable, and given the air of a gentleman’s residence, without any very heavy expense, and that must suffice me.’ I could not help adding, with a glance at Miss Crawford, ‘And, I hope, may suffice all who care about me.’
‘I have a mind to take something in the neighborhood myself,’ said Crawford. ‘It would be very pleasant to have a home of my own here, for in spite of all Dr Grant’s very great kindness, it is impossible for him to accommodate me and my horses without material inconvenience. will you rent me Thornton Lacey?’ he asked me.
My father replied that I would be residing there myself, which surprised Crawford, who had thought I would claim the privileges without taking on the responsibilities of the living.
‘Come as a friend instead of a tenant,’ I said. ‘Consider the house as half your own every winter, and we will add to the stables on your own improved plan, and with all the improvements that may occur to you this spring.’
Crawford said he had half a mind to take me up on it, but the conversation progressed no further for William began talking of dancing, and it captured the interest of everyone present.
‘Are you fond of dancing, Fanny?’ he asked, turning towards her.
‘Yes, very; only I am soon tired,’ she confessed.
‘I should like to go to a ball with you and see you dance. Have you never any balls at Northampton? I should like to see you dance, and I’d dance with you if you would, for nobody would know who I was here, and I should like to be your partner once more. We used to jump about together many a time, did not we? When the hand-organ was in the street? I am a pretty good dancer in my way, but I dare say you are a better.’ And turning to my father, who was now close to them, said, ‘Is not Fanny a very good dancer, sir?’
‘I am sorry to say that I am unable to answer your question. I have never seen Fanny dance since she was a little girl; but I trust we shall both think she acquits herself like a gentle-woman when we do see her, which, perhaps, we may have an opportunity of doing ere long.’
‘I have had the pleasure of seeing your sister dance, Mr. Price,’ said Crawford, leaning forward, ‘and will engage to answer every inquiry which you can make on the subject, to your entire satisfaction.’
Fanny flushed to hear herself so flatteringly spoken of. Fortunately for her modesty the conversation moved on to balls my father had at ended in Antigua. So engrossed were we all in listening to him that we did not hear the carriage until it was announced. I was about to take Fanny’s shawl to lay it round her shoulders when Crawford did it for me. I glanced at Mary and she smiled at me, wishing us a safe journey back to the Park. And now, back in my room, I feel the time is coming when I must put Mary’s feelings to the test, for I cannot hide my own any longer. I am in love with her, and I wish to make her my wife. Once Christmas is over and I have been ordained, I will be in a position to know exactly what I have to offer her.
But will it be enough? When I think of all the encouragements she has given me, the smiles and playful comments, the thoughts and feelings shared, then I think yes. But when I think of her comments on the necessity of wealth and her decided preference for London life, I am sure she will say no.
Friday 16 December
This morning my father announced that he intends to give a ball in honor of Fanny and William, and I was relieved and pleased. Relieved, because it would give another turn to my thoughts, which are at present occupied by the serious considerations of my ordination and the torment of wondering whether Mary will marry me. And pleased, because Fanny has little opportunity for dancing, and I want her to be given the pleasure.
My aunt was soon busily deciding that she must take all the care from Mama’s shoulders, and Mama had no objections to make.
My father suggested the twenty-second, a date my aunt declared to be impossible because of the shortness of the notice, but he was firm.
‘We must hold it soon, for William has to be at Portsmouth on the twenty-fourth, so we have not much time left. But I believe we can collect enough young people to form ten or twelve couples next week, despite the shortness of the notice.’
As soon as I had a chance to speak to my father alone, I said, ‘I am very happy at the idea of a ball, for it has been troubling me recently that Fanny has not yet come out.’
My father was surprised to learn of it.
‘Mama felt that her health made it wise to wait until she was older.’
‘Just so,’ he said. ‘Well, this shall be her come-out ball then.’
The invitations were sent out this afternoon, and as I happened to be going past the Parsonage, I took the Crawfords’ and the Grants’ invitation in person. I was pleased to see Mary’s eyes sparkle, but learned it was not with thoughts of the ball. She had just then received a letter from her friends in London, and they had invited her to stay.
‘I thought you were fixed here,’ I said, my spirits sinking.
‘And so I am, but you would not begrudge me a visit to my friends, I am sure,’ she returned.
‘Henry has kindly agreed to remain at Mansfield until January, so that he might convey me to them.’
And so, before January I must offer her my hand, for if I do not, I may miss my chance for many months, or, if she decides to stay in London, forever.