@@@@@They reached Mansfield on Thursday, and it
@@@@@They reached Mansfield on Thursday, and it was not
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till Sunday evening that Edmund began to talk to her on the subject
Sitting with her on Sunday evening—a wet Sunday evening—
the very time of all others when, if a friend is at hand, the heart
must be opened, and everything told; no one else in the room, except
his mother, who, after hearing an affecting sermon, had cried
herself to sleep, it was impossible not to speak; and so, with the
usual beginnings, hardly to be traced as to what came first, and the
usual declaration that if she would listen to him for a few minutes, he
should be very brief, and certainly never tax her kindness in the same
way again; she need not fear a repetition; it would be a subject prohibited
entirely: he entered upon the luxury of relating circumstances
and sensations of the first interest to himself, to one of whose affectionate
sympathy he was quite convinced
How Fanny listened, with what curiosity and concern, what pain
and what delight, how the agitation of his voice was watched, and
how carefully her own eyes were fixed on any object but himself,
may be imaginedThe opening was alarmingHe had seen Miss
CrawfordHe had been invited to see herHe had received a note
from Lady Stornaway to beg him to call; and regarding it as what
was meant to be the last, last interview of friendship, and investing
her with all the feelings of shame and wretchedness which Crawford’s
sister ought to have known, he had gone to her in such a state of
mind, so softened, so devoted, as made it for a few moments impossible
to Fanny’s fears that it should be the lastBut as he proceeded
in his story, these fears were overShe had met him, he said, with a
serious—certainly a serious—even an agitated air; but before he had
been able to speak one intelligible sentence, she had introduced the
subject in a manner which he owned had shocked him“‘I heard
you were in town,’ said she; ‘I wanted to see youLet us talk over
this sad businessWhat can equal the folly of our two relations?’ I
could not answer, but I believe my looks spoke
Sometimes how quick to feel! With a graver look and voice she then
added, ‘I do not mean to defend Henry at your sister’s expense So
she began, but how she went on, Fanny, is not fit, is hardly fit to be
repeated to youI cannot recall all her wordsI would not dwell
upon them if I couldTheir substance was great anger at the folly of
eachShe reprobated her brother’s folly in being drawn on by a
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woman whom he had never cared for, to do what must lose him the
woman he adored; but still more the folly of poor Maria, in sacrificing
such a situation, plunging into such difficulties, under the idea
of being really loved by a man who had long ago made his indifference
clearGuess what I must have feltTo hear the woman whom—
no harsher name than folly given! So voluntarily, so freely, so coolly
to canvass it! No reluctance, no horror, no feminine, shall I say, no
modest loathings? This is what the world doesFor where, Fanny,
shall we find a woman whom nature had so richly endowed? Spoilt,
spoilt!”
After a little reflection, he went on with a sort of desperate calmness
“I will tell you everything, and then have done for everShe saw
it only as folly, and that folly stamped only by exposureThe want of
common discretion, of caution: his going down to Richmond for the
whole time of her being at Twickenham; her putting herself in the
power of a servant; it was the detection, in short—oh, Fanny! it was
the detection, not the offence, which she reprobatedIt was the imprudence
which had brought things to extremity, and obliged her
brother to give up every dearer plan in order to fly with h