Tuesday 10 January
My visit came to an end this morning. The Owens sent me off with good wishes, with Mrs. Owen telling me I must stay with them whenever I should find myself in the neighborhood, and Mr. Owen seconding her invitation. Owen rode with me as far as Peterborough, where he left me, and I went on alone. The weather remained fine, with a piercing blue sky and sharp shadows, but it was bitingly cold, and I was glad of the exercise to keep me warm. As I neared Mansfield I was glad I did not have to fear meeting Miss Crawford, for her satirical comments on my new status would have been hard to bear. To be laughed at before I was a clergyman had been hard enough; to be laughed at when my ambition was accomplished would have been far worse. I had so far schooled myself to forgetting her, that when I saw her walking through the village with her brother I was astonished. I was forced to stop, and I steeled myself to her satirical words. But I was surprised to hear her saying, in the most affable manner, ‘Mr. Bertram! This is a welcome surprise. You have been very much missed.’
My thoughts were sent reeling. What did it mean? Had she been thinking about what I had said?
Had her natural justice done what her hastiness could not, and shown her the truth of my words? And had they been strong enough to do away with her unreasonable prejudices?
The smile that accompanied her words was so radiant it gave me cause to hope. I returned her greeting, and rode on to Mansfield Park with my spirits singing. She was still at Mansfield! And she had greeted me warmly! And with such a smile! She had decided — perhaps she had decided — that the church was an honorable calling; and that true friendship, and more than friendship, outweighed all other considerations. But whatever the case, of one thing I could be certain: she had missed me!
There was more good news when I reached home. Once I had greeted my family, I settled myself by the fire, ready to hear all the Mansfield news. I was hoping, too, to hear why Miss Crawford and her brother were still in the neighborhood.
‘What do you think, Edmund?’ asked my aunt. ‘William has been made a lieutenant.’
It was the best possible news for Fanny, and her looks spoke her happiness. I forestalled my aunt, who would have given me every particular, by asking Fanny to tell me all about it, and I soon learned that William had been helped to his good fortune by Admiral Crawford, at Henry’s instigation.
‘Fanny, this is a wonderful thing,’ I said, delighted at her happiness.
‘Oh, yes, Edmund, is it not?’ she said. ‘William was so worried about being passed over, but Mr. Crawford took him to dine with the Admiral, and the Admiral bestirred himself, with the result that William is now second Lieutenant of HM sloop Thrush.’
‘And never a young man deserved it more! But how good of Crawford to help him!’
Fanny blushed, but it was not until after dinner, when I sat over the port with my father, that I learned the cause of her blushes. No youthful colorings these, for in my absence Henry Crawford had proposed to her!
I could not believe it at first, but when I had grasped it, I thought it was an excellent thing, for it meant that Fanny and I would not be parted. When I married Mary — if I married Mary; if her smiles had told me what her heart felt — and Fanny married Henry, then we would be united through two bonds, and would be together forever. Mary would want to visit Henry at his own estate, and what could be more natural than that we should go for lengthy visits, when I would have not only the pleasure of gratifying Mary’s wishes to see her brother, but my own wishes to see my dearest Fanny? And in return, they would come and stay with us at Thornton Lacey. I was about to express my wholehearted delight in the engagement when my father hesitated, and said, ‘There is just one thing I find it hard to comprehend. Fanny has refused him.’
‘Refused him?’ I asked in surprise.
‘Yes. You have always understood her very well, Edmund. It would be an excellent match for her. It would provide her with an establishment, a very good establishment I might say, and a settled and secure future. It is a match I could not have presumed to hope for, as I can give Fanny very little in the way of a dowry, and Crawford is entitled to look much higher, but I am very happy to think of it. He is not only wealthy, he has no vices, and he is an agreeable young man into the bargain. The ladies all seem to like him. And yet she has still refused him. Why do you think she has done it?’
‘I should imagine she was taken by surprise, and did not know what to say.’
‘Perhaps. Although I cannot think why she should be surprised. I have noticed his interest in her with pleasure for some time now, and have hoped it might lead to something. Fanny’s future has often troubled me. Taking her in as we did, we took on responsibility for her, and I did not want to see her dwindle into an old maid, but I confess there have been times when I have not been able to see a different future for her. She is so quiet, and we live so retired, that I knew she would have little opportunity to meet other young people. I was hoping that Maria might ask her to stay, although I also dreaded the idea, for I feared the noise and the bustle of London would not suit her. But if she marries Crawford, she will be well provided for, and I am persuaded she will be happy. And yet she has turned him down.’
‘Fanny thinks so poorly of herself, and her own claims to the ordinary happinesses of life, that, until he proposed, she probably thought his attentions were nothing but kindness.’
‘Then it does not surprise you?’
‘Not at all, and I honor her for it. She could do nothing else. But now that she has been alerted to his preference she will have time to grow used to it and to enjoy it by and by. She deserves to have the love of a good man, one who can give her the elegancies of life, as well as his kindness, his friendship and his affection.’
‘It will be a very big change for her.’
‘Yes, it will. She will go from being our quiet, shy Fanny, to being the centre of attention, but I am sure she will come round. Indeed, I think it must be so. Crawford has been too precipitate, that is all. He has not given her time to attach herself. He has begun at the wrong end. But with such powers of pleasing, he must be able to win her over.’
‘I am glad to hear you say so.’
‘Depend upon it, it will all come right in the end.’
As soon as my father and I returned to the drawing-room for tea, I sat down next to Fanny and took her hand.
‘Fanny, I have been hearing all about your proposal,’ I said warmly. ‘I am not surprised. You have powers of attaching a man that another woman would envy, through your goodness and your purity of spirit. Now I see why Crawford put himself out to help William. He was helping his future brother-in-law!’
‘But I have refused him,’ she said quietly.
‘Of course, for the moment. But when you come to know him better you will see that he is just the sort of man to make you happy.’
She said no more but, feeling sure that she would soon change her mind, I let the matter drop and turned the conversation instead to William.
‘William is coming to stay with us, I understand,’ I said.
She brightened.
‘Yes, he will be here before long. He wants to see us all and thank us for our help in his promotion.’
‘Though it was all Crawford’s doing,’ I put in.
‘He would like to show us his uniform, too, but he is not allowed to wear it except on duty.’
‘Never mind. He will just have to describe it to us and we will then be able to imagine him in all his splendor.’
She talked on happily, looking forward to the day when she will see him again.