Jane Austen's Mansfield Park: Abridged
Page 17
It was, indeed, a triumphant day to Mr. Bertram and Maria. Such a victory over Edmund had been beyond their hopes, and was most delightful. Edmund might still look grave, and say he did not like the scheme; but their point was gained: he was to act, and he was driven to it by selfish inclinations only. Edmund had descended from his moral elevation, and they were both the happier for the descent.
They behaved very well to him, however, betraying no exultation beyond the lines about the corners of the mouth. When Edmund gave a hint of his hope that the audience would be limited, they were ready to promise anything. It was all good-humour and encouragement. Mrs. Norris offered to contrive his dress, and Mr. Rushworth undertook to count his speeches.
"Perhaps," said Tom, "Fanny may be more disposed to oblige us now. Perhaps you may persuade her."
"No, she is quite determined. She will not act."
"Oh! very well." Not another word was said; but Fanny felt herself again in danger, and her indifference to the danger was beginning to fail her already.
Miss Crawford entered into the affair with such renewed cheerfulness as could have but one effect on Edmund. "He was certainly right in respecting her 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 to Fanny: at Miss Crawford’s request, Mrs. Grant agreed to take the part for which Fanny had been wanted. Even this brought a pang, for it was Miss Crawford to whom she was obliged. She was safe; but peace and safety were unconnected here. Her mind had been never farther from peace. She could not feel that she had done wrong, but she was disquieted in every other way. Her heart and her judgment were equally against Edmund's decision: she could not acquit his unsteadiness, and his happiness made her wretched. She was full of jealousy and agitation. Miss Crawford’s looks of gaiety seemed an insult, and she could hardly answer her friendly expressions calmly.
Everybody around her was busy and important; each had their part, their dress, their favourite scene, their friends: all were finding employment. She alone was sad and insignificant: she had no share in anything; she might go or stay without being seen or missed. She could almost think anything would have been preferable to this. Mrs. Grant was of consequence: she was sought for, and attended, and praised; and Fanny was in some danger of envying her the character she had accepted. But reflection brought better feelings, and showed her that Mrs. Grant was entitled to respect which could never have belonged to her; and that she could never have supported a scheme which, considering her uncle, she must condemn.
Fanny's heart was not the only saddened one. Julia was a sufferer too, though not quite so blamelessly.
Henry Crawford had trifled with her feelings; but she had allowed his attentions, and now that his preference for Maria had been forced on her, she submitted to it without any alarm for Maria's situation, or any endeavour at tranquillity for herself. She either sat in gloomy silence; or, allowing the attentions of Mr. Yates, was talking with forced gaiety to him alone, and ridiculing the acting of the others.
For a day or two, Henry Crawford had endeavoured to do away the affront by the usual attack of gallantry and compliment, but he had not cared enough to persevere; and becoming too busy to have time for more than one flirtation, he grew indifferent to the quarrel, or rather thought it lucky in quietly putting an end to her expectations. He assured Mrs Grant, with a smile, that neither he nor Julia had ever had a serious thought of each other. She cautioned him as to the elder sister, entreating him not to risk too much admiration there.
"I rather wonder Julia is not in love with Henry," was her observation to Mary.
"I dare say she is," replied Mary coldly. "I imagine both sisters are."
"Both! no, that must not be. Think of Mr. Rushworth!"
"You had better tell Miss Bertram to think of Mr. Rushworth. It may do her some good."
"I dare say he will be in parliament soon, when Sir Thomas comes."
"Sir Thomas is to achieve many mighty things when he comes home," said Mary. "Everything seems to depend upon Sir Thomas's return."
"You will find his consequence very reasonable when you see him, I assure you. He has a fine dignified manner, which suits the head of such a house. Lady Bertram seems more of a cipher now than when he is at home; and nobody else can keep Mrs. Norris in order. But, Mary, do not fancy that Maria Bertram cares for Henry. I am sure Julia does not, or she would not have flirted as she did last night with Mr. 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 Henry stepped in."
"If you have such a suspicion, something must be done; and as soon as the play is all over, we will talk to him seriously; and if he means nothing, we will send him off, though he is Henry, for a time."
Julia did suffer, however. She had loved, she did love still; and she was suffering under the disappointment of a dear, though irrational hope, and a strong sense of ill-usage. Her heart was sore and angry, and she was capable only of angry consolations. Her sister was now become her greatest enemy: and Julia was not above hoping for some distressing end to the attentions which were still carrying on. The sisters had not affection or principle enough to give them honour or compassion. Maria felt her triumph, and pursued her purpose, careless of Julia; and Julia trusted that there would be punishment for Maria at last.
Fanny saw and pitied much of this in Julia; but they did not speak of it to each other. They were two solitary sufferers.
The blindness of the two brothers and their aunt to this must be imputed to the fullness of their own minds. Tom was engrossed by the concerns of his theatre. Edmund, with Miss Crawford's claims, was equally unobservant; and Mrs. Norris was too busy in directing little matters, and saving half a crown here and there for the absent Sir Thomas, to have leisure for watching the behaviour, or guarding the happiness of his daughters.
CHAPTER 18