Edmund Bertram's Diary

I spoke to him of our reputation and our father’s absence but he only said, ‘Pooh! You take everything too seriously, Edmund. Anyone would think we were going to act three times a week till my father’s return, and invite all the country! And as to my father’s being absent, it is so far from an objection, that I consider it rather as a motive; for the expectation of his return must be a very anxious period to my mother; and if we can be the means of amusing that anxiety, and keeping up her spirits for the next few weeks, I shall think our time very well spent, and so, I am sure, will he. It is a very anxious period for her.’

As he said this, we looked towards our mother who, sunk back in one corner of the sofa, the picture of health, ease, and tranquility, was just falling into a gentle doze. I could not help giving a wry smile, and Tom had the grace to laugh.

‘By Jove! this won’t do,’ he cried, throwing himself into a chair. ‘To be sure, my dear mother, your anxiety — I was unlucky there.’

‘What is the matter?’ she asked, half-roused. ‘I was not asleep.’

‘Oh dear, no, ma’am, nobody suspected you! well, Edmund, ’ he continued, ‘but this I will maintain, that we shall be doing no harm.’

Nothing I could say would sway him; no concern for Maria and Julia’s reputations, for if word of it got out they would be regarded as fast; nor considerations of our father’s wishes, for he would surely not wish us to take such liberties with his house whilst he was away; nor thoughts of the upheaval and expense.

‘I know my father as well as you do; and I’ll take care that his daughters do nothing to distress him. Manage your own concerns, Edmund, and I’ll take care of the rest of the family,’ he said.

‘Don’t imagine that nobody in this house can see or judge but yourself. Don’t act yourself, if you do not like it, but don’t expect to govern everybody else.’

He walked out of the room and I sat down by the fire, feeling exceedingly low, for I was sure one thing would lead to another and I feared that, before long, we would find ourselves embroiled in a major undertaking. And I was responsible, for I had promised my father I would look after affairs in his absence. What would he feel if he returned to find the profits of the estate spent on something so frivolous, when he had just spent two years in Antigua in an effort to mend the family fortunes?

Fanny followed me and sat down beside me.

‘Perhaps they may not be able to find any play to suit them. Your brother’s taste and your sisters’ seem very different, ’ she said.

‘I have no hope there, Fanny,’ I said with a sigh. ‘If they persist in the scheme, they will find something. I shall speak to my sisters and try to dissuade them, and that is all I can do.’

She agreed that this would be my best choice of conduct. Tomorrow, then, I must try to dissuade my sisters from acting, and hope it puts an end to the scheme.

Friday 23 September

I did my best to dissuade Maria and Julia from putting on a play this morning, but they would not listen to me.

‘Of course the estate can bear the expense,’ said Maria.

‘I am persuaded Rushworth would not like you to act,’ I said, trying to sway her.

‘He must learn I have a mind of my own,’ she returned.

Julia was no easier to persuade, for although she thought Maria had better not act, as for herself, there could be no objection to it.

At that very moment Henry Crawford entered the room, fresh from the Parsonage, calling out,

‘No want of hands in our theatre, Miss Bertram. No want of understrappers: my sister desires her love, and hopes to be admitted into the company, and will be happy to take the part of any old duenna or tame confidante, that you may not like to do yourselves.’

Maria looked at me as much as to say, ‘Can we be wrong if Mary Crawford sees no harm in it?’

I was obliged to acknowledge that the charm of acting might well carry fascination to the mind of genius; and to think that Miss Crawford, as ever, was the most obliging young woman. She, at least, was blameless, for she did not know how my father’s affairs stood, and could not be expected to know that any additional expense, coming at such a time, was very undesirable. My aunt expressed a few reservations when Tom told her of the scheme and I hoped, briefly, that this would dampen his enthusiasm, but he and Maria joined forces and soon talked Aunt Norris out of her objections, and the play became a settled thing. I must now make it my concern to limit the scope of the production so that it does as little harm as possible.

Saturday 24 September

Tom lost no time in calling the estate carpenter to the house, despite the fact that Jackson was needed to finish mending the fences blown down in last week’s strong winds. Tom told him to take measurements for a stage.