Edmund Bertram's Diary

Fanny was kind. She said that, although we had missed some lines, our performance did us credit, and I found myself looking forward to a repetition of it when we should rehearse with the others in the evening.

The evening, however, brought a blow. Dr Grant was ill. It was not serious, but Mrs. Grant had to remain at home, which left us without a Cottager’s Wife. Everyone looked to Fanny, for we could not rehearse without Cottager’s Wife.

‘If Miss Price would read the part?’ said Yates.

‘Certainly, you would only have to read it, Fanny,’ said Crawford. ‘You would not need to act at all.’

‘And I do believe she can say every word of it,’ added Maria encouragingly, ‘for she could put Mrs. Grant right the other day in twenty places. Fanny, I am sure you know the part.’

Fanny was sweet and obliging, and although she did not like to act, she took the part so that the rehearsal might go ahead. I knew what it had cost her, and I thanked her for it warmly, and then it was time to begin.

Maria had got her lines by heart and needed no prompting. Crawford, too, knew his part well, and imbued it with a great deal of feeling, his voice carrying around the room. We had just got to the part where he seized Maria’s hand when the door was thrown open and we all turned towards it in surprise.

Julia stood there, with a face all aghast, exclaiming, ‘My father is come! He is in the hall at this moment.’

We looked at each other in stunned amazement! Our father? But he was not due back for another month! Then Tom, Maria, Julia and I, recovering ourselves, went to pay our respects to him in the drawing-room. And there he was, looking thinner, and burned by the sun, and tired after his journey, but pleased to be home.

We had hardly all greeted each other when he said, ‘But where is Fanny? Why do not I see my little Fanny?’ in such a kindly way that I loved him all the more. His stateliness had sometimes frightened her in the past, but his mood was so affectionate that I knew his notice would delight her.

Fanny stepped forward, and he embraced her, saying how much she had grown, and taking her over to the light so that he might see her better.

‘I have no need to ask after your health, for I have never seen you more blooming,’ he said.

‘And how are your family?’

‘Well, sir, I thank you.’

‘And how is William?’

‘He is well, sir.’

‘Has he been made Captain?’ he asked her with a smile.

‘No, sir,’ she said, adding, ‘not yet.’

He laughed, glad to see her so bold, for she did not have the courage to say two words to him before he went away.

He bade us all sit by the fire and then told us of his adventures: his perils on the voyage, with storms and calms, and his business in Antigua, which had at last prospered. He broke off now and then to say how lucky he was to find us all at home.

‘You must have something to eat, Sir Thomas,’ said my aunt. ‘I will ring for some dinner at once.’

‘No, no, I do not want to eat. I will wait for the tea to be brought in.’

‘And how was your passage to England, sir?’ asked Tom.

‘Ah, now that was not such plain sailing,’ he said. ‘We had any number of storms, but worse was to come. We saw a sail on the horizon, and suddenly the ship sprang into action, for she was a French privateer. As she drew closer—’

‘Sure, my dear Sir Thomas, a basin of soup would be a much better thing for you than tea,’

broke in my aunt. ‘Do have a basin of soup.’

‘Still the same anxiety for everybody’s comfort, my dear Mrs. Norris,’ said my father indulgently.

‘But indeed I would rather have nothing but tea.’

Mama rang for tea directly, and my father continued with his tale.

‘We could see her colors, and it looked for a moment as though we might not outrun her, but then the wind filled our sails and off we sped, leaving her behind us.’

‘But how are you with us so soon?’ Mama asked.

‘I came directly from Liverpool. I had an opportunity of sailing in a private vessel, rather than waiting for the packet, for I saw one of my old friends in Liverpool who offered me passage on his yacht — and what a remarkable piece of good fortune it was to find you al lhere!’ he said again, smiling at us all.

‘It could not be too soon for me,’ said Mama, watching him with love. He looked around. ‘How glad I am to find you all here, for I have come among you unexpectedly, and much sooner than looked for. And how lucky to find you here, too, Rushworth, ’ he said, for he did not forget Maria’s fiancé.

‘How do you think the young people have been amusing themselves lately, Sir Thomas?’ said Mama. ‘They have been acting. We have been al lalive with acting.’

‘Indeed! and what have you been acting?’

‘Oh! They will tel you all about it.’