[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge of."
"I do not defend him. I leave him entirely to your mercy; and when he has got you at Everingham, I do
not care how much you lecture him. But this I will say, that his fault, the liking to make girls a little in love
with him, is not half so dangerous to a wife's happiness, as a tendency to fall in love himself, which he has
never been addicted to. And I do seriously and firmly believe that he is attached to you in a way that he
never was to any woman before; that he loves you with all his heart, and will love you as nearly for ever
as possible. If any man ever loved a woman for ever, I think Henry will do as much for you."
Fanny could not avoid a faint smile, but had nothing to say.
"I cannot imagine Henry ever to have been happier," continued Mary, presently, "than when he had
succeeded in getting your brother's commission."
She had made a sure push at Fanny's feelings here.
"Oh! yes. How very, very kind of him!"
"I know he must have exerted himself very much, for I know the parties he had to move. The Admiral
hates trouble, and scorns asking favors; and there are so many young men's claims to be attended to in
the same way, that a friendship and energy, not very determined, is easily put by. What a happy creature
William must be! I wish we could see him."
Poor Fanny's mind was thrown into the most distressing of all its varieties. The recollection of what had
been done for William was always the most powerful disturber of every decision against Mr. Crawford;
and she sat thinking deeply of it till Mary, who had been first watching her complacently, and then musing
on something else, suddenly called her attention, by saying, "I should like to sit talking with you here all
day, but we must not forget the ladies below, and so good bye, my dear, my amiable, my excellent
Fanny, for though we shall nominally part in the breakfast parlor, I must take leave of you here. And I do
take leave, longing for a happy re-union, and trusting, that when we meet again, it will be under
circumstances which may open our hearts to each other without any remnant or shadow of reserve."
A very, very kind embrace, and some agitation of manner, accompanied these words.
"I shall see your cousin in town soon; he talks of being there tolerably soon; and Sir Thomas, I dare say,
in the course of the spring; and your eldest cousin and the Rushworths and Julia I am sure of meeting
again and again, and all but you. I have two favors to ask, Fanny; one is your correspondence. You must
write to me. And the other, that you will often call on Mrs. Grant and make her amends for my being
gone."
The first, at least, of these favors Fanny would rather not have been asked; but it was impossible for her
to refuse the correspondence; it was impossible for her even not to accede to it more readily than her
own judgment authorized. There was no resisting so much apparent affection. Her disposition was
peculiarly calculated to value a fond treatment, and from having hitherto known so little of it, she was the
more overcome by Miss Crawford's. Besides, there was gratitude towards her, for having made their
tête à tête so much less painful than her fears had predicted.
Page 147
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
It was over, and she had escaped without reproaches and without detection. Her secret was still her
own; and while that was the case, she thought she could resign herself to almost everything.
In the evening there was another parting. Henry Crawford came and sat some time with them; and her
spirits not being previously in the strongest state, her heart was softened for a while towards
him because he really seemed to feel. Quite unlike his usual self, he scarcely said any thing. He was
evidently oppressed, and Fanny must grieve for him, though hoping she might never see him again till he
were the husband of some other woman.
When it came to the moment of parting, he would take her hand, he would not be denied it; he said
nothing, however, or nothing that she heard, and when he had left the room, she was better pleased that
such a token of friendship had passed.
On the morrow the Crawfords were gone.
|Go to Table of Contents |
Chapter 37
Mr. Crawford gone, Sir Thomas's next object was, that he should be missed, and he entertained great
hope that his niece would find a blank in the loss of those attentions which at the time she had felt, or
fancied an evil. She had tasted of consequence in its most flattering form; and he did hope that the loss of
it, the sinking again into nothing, would awaken very wholesome regrets in her mind. He watched her
with this idea but he could hardly tell with what success. He hardly knew whether there were any
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]zanotowane.pldoc.pisz.plpdf.pisz.plkajaszek.htw.pl