Mansfield Park
Edmund was the only one of the family who could see a fault in the
business; but no representation of his aunt’s could induce him to find
Mr. Rushworth a desirable companion. He could allow his sister to be
the best judge of her own happiness, but he was not pleased that her
happiness should centre in a large income; nor could he refrain from
often saying to himself, in Mr. Rushworth’s company—“If this man had
not twelve thousand a year, he would be a very stupid fellow.”
Sir Thomas, however, was truly happy in the prospect of an alliance so
unquestionably advantageous, and of which he heard nothing but the
perfectly good and agreeable. It was a connexion exactly of the right
sort—in the same county, and the same interest—and his most hearty
concurrence was conveyed as soon as possible. He only conditioned that
the marriage should not take place before his return, which he was
again looking eagerly forward to. He wrote in April, and had strong
hopes of settling everything to his entire satisfaction, and leaving
Antigua before the end of the summer.
Such was the state of affairs in the month of July; and Fanny had just
reached her eighteenth year, when the society of the village received
an addition in the brother and sister of Mrs. Grant, a Mr. and Miss
Crawford, the children of her mother by a second marriage. They were
young people of fortune. The son had a good estate in Norfolk, the
daughter twenty thousand pounds. As children, their sister had been
always very fond of them; but, as her own marriage had been soon
followed by the death of their common parent, which left them to the
care of a brother of their father, of whom Mrs. Grant knew nothing, she
had scarcely seen them since. In their uncle’s house they had found a
kind home. Admiral and Mrs. Crawford, though agreeing in nothing else,
were united in affection for these children, or, at least, were no
farther adverse in their feelings than that each had their favourite,
to whom they showed the greatest fondness of the two. The Admiral
delighted in the boy, Mrs. Crawford doted on the girl; and it was the
lady’s death which now obliged her _protegee_, after some months’
further trial at her uncle’s house, to find another home. Admiral
Crawford was a man of vicious conduct, who chose, instead of retaining
his niece, to bring his mistress under his own roof; and to this Mrs.
Grant was indebted for her sister’s proposal of coming to her, a
measure quite as welcome on one side as it could be expedient on the
other; for Mrs. Grant, having by this time run through the usual
resources of ladies residing in the country without a family of
children—having more than filled her favourite sitting-room with pretty
furniture, and made a choice collection of plants and poultry—was very
much in want of some variety at home. The arrival, therefore, of a
sister whom she had always loved, and now hoped to retain with her as
long as she remained single, was highly agreeable; and her chief
anxiety was lest Mansfield should not satisfy the habits of a young
woman who had been mostly used to London.
Miss Crawford was not entirely free from similar apprehensions, though
they arose principally from doubts of her sister’s style of living and
tone of society; and it was not till after she had tried in vain to
persuade her brother to settle with her at his own country house, that
she could resolve to hazard herself among her other relations. To
anything like a permanence of abode, or limitation of society, Henry
Crawford had, unluckily, a great dislike: he could not accommodate his
sister in an article of such importance; but he escorted her, with the
utmost kindness, into Northamptonshire, and as readily engaged to fetch
her away again, at half an hour’s notice, whenever she were weary of
the place.
The meeting was very satisfactory on each side. Miss Crawford found a
sister without preciseness or rusticity, a sister’s husband who looked
the gentleman, and a house commodious and well fitted up; and Mrs.
Grant received in those whom she hoped to love better than ever a young
man and woman of very prepossessing appearance. Mary Crawford was
remarkably pretty; Henry, though not handsome, had air and countenance;
the manners of both were lively and pleasant, and Mrs. Grant
immediately gave them credit for everything else. She was delighted
with each, but Mary was her dearest object; and having never been able
to glory in beauty of her own, she thoroughly enjoyed the power of
being proud of her sister’s. She had not waited her arrival to look out
for a suitable match for her: she had fixed on Tom Bertram; the eldest
son of a baronet was not too good for a girl of twenty thousand pounds,
with all the elegance and accomplishments which Mrs. Grant foresaw in
her; and being a warm-hearted, unreserved woman, Mary had not been
three hours in the house before she told her what she had planned.
Miss Crawford was glad to find a family of such consequence so very
near them, and not at all displeased either at her sister’s early care,
or the choice it had fallen on. Matrimony was her object, provided she
could marry well: and having seen Mr. Bertram in town, she knew that
objection could no more be made to his person than to his situation in
life. While she treated it as a joke, therefore, she did not forget to
think of it seriously. The scheme was soon repeated to Henry.
“And now,” added Mrs. Grant, “I have thought of something to make it
complete. I should dearly love to settle you both in this country; and
therefore, Henry, you shall marry the youngest Miss Bertram, a nice,
handsome, good-humoured, accomplished girl, who will make you very
happy.”
Henry bowed and thanked her.
“My dear sister,” said Mary, “if you can persuade him into anything of
the sort, it will be a fresh matter of delight to me to find myself
allied to anybody so clever, and I shall only regret that you have not
half a dozen daughters to dispose of. If you can persuade Henry to
marry, you must have the address of a Frenchwoman. All that English
abilities can do has been tried already. I have three very particular
friends who have been all dying for him in their turn; and the pains
which they, their mothers (very clever women), as well as my dear aunt
and myself, have taken to reason, coax, or trick him into marrying, is
inconceivable! He is the most horrible flirt that can be imagined. If
your Miss Bertrams do not like to have their hearts broke, let them
avoid Henry.”
“My dear brother, I will not believe this of you.”
“No, I am sure you are too good. You will be kinder than Mary. You will
allow for the doubts of youth and inexperience. I am of a cautious
temper, and unwilling to risk my happiness in a hurry. Nobody can think
more highly of the matrimonial state than myself. I consider the
blessing of a wife as most justly described in those discreet lines of
the poet—‘Heaven’s _last_ best gift.’”
“There, Mrs. Grant, you see how he dwells on one word, and only look at
his smile. I assure you he is very detestable; the Admiral’s lessons
have quite spoiled him.”
“I pay very little regard,” said Mrs. Grant, “to what any young person
says on the subject of marriage. If they profess a disinclination for
it, I only set it down that they have not yet seen the right person.”
Dr. Grant laughingly congratulated Miss Crawford on feeling no
disinclination to the state herself.
“Oh yes! I am not at all ashamed of it. I would have everybody marry if
they can do it properly: I do not like to have people throw themselves
away; but everybody should marry as soon as they can do it to
advantage.”
CHAPTER V
The young people were pleased with each other from the first. On each
side there was much to attract, and their acquaintance soon promised as
early an intimacy as good manners would warrant. Miss Crawford’s beauty
did her no disservice with the Miss Bertrams. They were too handsome
themselves to dislike any woman for being so too, and were almost as
much charmed as their brothers with her lively dark eye, clear brown
complexion, and general prettiness. Had she been tall, full formed, and
fair, it might have been more of a trial: but as it was, there could be
no comparison; and she was most allowably a sweet, pretty girl, while
they were the finest young women in the country.
Her brother was not handsome: no, when they first saw him he was
absolutely plain, black and plain; but still he was the gentleman, with
a pleasing address. The second meeting proved him not so very plain: he
was plain, to be sure, but then he had so much countenance, and his
teeth were so good, and he was so well made, that one soon forgot he
was plain; and after a third interview, after dining in company with
him at the Parsonage, he was no longer allowed to be called so by
anybody. He was, in fact, the most agreeable young man the sisters had
ever known, and they were equally delighted with him. Miss Bertram’s
engagement made him in equity the property of Julia, of which Julia was
fully aware; and before he had been at Mansfield a week, she was quite
ready to be fallen in love with.
Maria’s notions on the subject were more confused and indistinct. She
did not want to see or understand. “There could be no harm in her
liking an agreeable man—everybody knew her situation—Mr. Crawford must
take care of himself.” Mr. Crawford did not mean to be in any danger!
the Miss Bertrams were worth pleasing, and were ready to be pleased;
and he began with no object but of making them like him. He did not
want them to die of love; but with sense and temper which ought to have
made him judge and feel better, he allowed himself great latitude on
such points.
“I like your Miss Bertrams exceedingly, sister,” said he, as he
returned from attending them to their carriage after the said dinner
visit; “they are very elegant, agreeable girls.”
“So they are indeed, and I am delighted to hear you say it. But you
like Julia best.”
“Oh yes! I like Julia best.”
“But do you really? for Miss Bertram is in general thought the
handsomest.”
“So I should suppose. She has the advantage in every feature, and I
prefer her countenance; but I like Julia best; Miss Bertram is
certainly the handsomest, and I have found her the most agreeable, but
I shall always like Julia best, because you order me.”
“I shall not talk to you, Henry, but I know you _will_ like her best at
last.”
“Do not I tell you that I like her best _at_ _first_?”
“And besides, Miss Bertram is engaged. Remember that, my dear brother.
Her choice is made.”
“Yes, and I like her the better for it. An engaged woman is always more
agreeable than a disengaged. She is satisfied with herself. Her cares
are over, and she feels that she may exert all her powers of pleasing
without suspicion. All is safe with a lady engaged: no harm can be
done.”
“Why, as to that, Mr. Rushworth is a very good sort of young man, and
it is a great match for her.”
“But Miss Bertram does not care three straws for him; _that_ is your
opinion of your intimate friend. _I_ do not subscribe to it. I am sure
Miss Bertram is very much attached to Mr. Rushworth. I could see it in
her eyes, when he was mentioned. I think too well of Miss Bertram to
suppose she would ever give her hand without her heart.”
“Mary, how shall we manage him?”
“We must leave him to himself, I believe. Talking does no good. He will
be taken in at last.”
“But I would not have him _taken_ _in_; I would not have him duped; I
would have it all fair and honourable.”
“Oh dear! let him stand his chance and be taken in. It will do just as
well. Everybody is taken in at some period or other.”
“Not always in marriage, dear Mary.”
“In marriage especially. With all due respect to such of the present