Edmund Bertram's Diary

The conversation turned to talk of alterations in general and Miss Crawford began to speak of her uncle’s cottage at Twickenham, but as she did so I was surprised to find that she seemed to blame him for the dirt and inconvenience of the alterations he was making. Her liveliness seemed out of place and her droll comments, instead of lifting my spirits, dampened them, for it was disagreeable to hear her speak so slightingly of the man who had taken her in when her parents had died.

I was glad when the conversation moved on to her harp.

‘I am assured that it is safe at Northampton; and there it has probably been these ten days, in spite of the solemn assurances we have so often received to the contrary,’ she said. ‘I am to have it tomorrow; but how do you think it is to be conveyed? Not by a wagon or cart: oh no! nothing of that kind could be hired in the village. I might as well have asked for porters and a handbarrow.’

I smiled at her naïveté, for she was surprised that it should be difficult to hire a horse and cart at this time of year! What did she expect, when the grass had to be got in?

‘I shall understand all your ways in time; but, coming down with the true London maxim, that everything is to be got with money, I was a little embarrassed at first by the sturdy independence of your country customs,’ she said. ‘However, I am to have my harp fetched tomorrow. Henry, who is good-nature itself, has offered to fetch it in his barouche. will it not be honorably conveyed?’

Her humor was infectious, and I found myself looking forward to the morrow, for if there is one instrument I like above all others, it is the harp. Fanny expressed a wish to hear it, too.

‘I shall be most happy to play to you both,’ said Miss Crawford. ‘Now, Mr. Bertram, if you write to your brother, I entreat you to tel him that my harp is come. And you may say, if you please, that I shall prepare my most plaintive airs against his return, in compassion to his feelings, as I know his horse will lose.’

‘If I write, I will say whatever you wish me,’ I replied, rather more reluctantly than I had intended, for I was dismayed to know that she still thought of Tom, even though he was no longer with us.

‘But I do not, at present, foresee any occasion for writing.’

‘What strange creatures brothers are! You would not write to each other but upon the most urgent necessity in the world. Henry, who is in every other respect exactly what a brother should be, who loves me, consults me, confides in me, and will talk to me by the hour together, has never yet turned the page in a letter; and very often it is nothing more than, “Dear Mary, I am just arrived. Bath seems full, and everything as usual. Yours sincerely.” That is the true manly style; that is a complete brother’s letter,’ she said comical y. Fanny, however, saw nothing amusing in it, and was indignant on behalf of her own brother, her much-loved William. She could not help saying boldly, ‘When they are at a distance from all their family, they can write long letters.’

I was glad that love had driven her to do what encouragement had not; for it did me good to hear her join in the conversation and express her views, rather than sit quietly by.

‘Miss Price has a brother at sea, whose excellence as a correspondent makes her think you too severe upon us,’ I explained, as Miss Crawford looked startled.

‘Ah. I understand. He is at sea, is he? In the King’s service, of course?’

Fanny had by that time blushed for her own forwardness, but as it was an excellent opportunity for her to speak, I remained resolutely silent, so that she had to continue. As she began to talk of William she lost her shyness, and her voice became animated as she spoke of the foreign stations he had been on; but such was her tenderness that she could not mention the number of years he had been absent without tears in her eyes.

Miss Crawford civil y wished him an early promotion, and a thought occurred to me.

‘Do you know anything of my cousin’s captain? Captain Marshal ? You have a large acquaintance in the Navy, I conclude? ’ I asked her, thinking that perhaps something might be done to help William.

‘Among admirals, large enough, for my uncle, as you know, is Admiral Crawford; but we know very little of the inferior ranks,’ she said. ‘Of various admirals I could tel you a great deal: of them and their flags, and the gradation of their pay, and their bickerings and jealousies. But, in general, I can assure you that they are all passed over, and all very ill used.’

Again I was surprised and unsettled by her lack of respect for her uncle and his friends, and I replied with something or nothing, saying, ‘It is a noble profession,’ and the subject soon dropped.