Edmund Bertram's Diary

Fanny could not settle to anything all day, so busy was she watching for William’s arrival. I came across her in the lobby, in the hall and on the stairs, her eyes looking out of the window, and her ears straining for the first sound of a carriage. At last she repaired to the drawing-room and took up her needlework, though I believe very few stitches were laid, for every time a step came on the gravel she jumped up, and if she heard a horse whinny she ran to the window.

‘He cannot be here before dinner,’ I told her.

‘If he has a good journey he could be here by four o’clock,’ she said.

‘You have measured the distance?’ I asked her teasingly.

She said with a smile, ‘I have been looking at the map.’

She sat down again, and picked up her needlework.

‘What a lucky boy William is, to be sure, to have had so much help from Sir Thomas,’ said my aunt, as Fanny’s eyes went every few minutes out of the window. ‘I hope he is properly grateful for all the help he has received, for without it he would not have done half so well.’

‘I did very little,’ said my father kindly. ‘He has worked hard and made the most of his advantages. I gave him his start, perhaps, but he has progressed on his own merits.’

My aunt continued in a similar vein until, hearing the carriage, she said, ‘There he is! What a day this is, to be sure! How happy he will be to be here, in the house of his benefactor. I must go and welcome him at once.’

‘Pray, do not stir yourself,’ said my father, as Fanny ran out of the room, ‘for I am sure there is no need.’

‘But Sir Thomas, there is every need in the world,’ she said, eager to be doing something.

‘It is cold in the hall, you had much better remain by the fire,’ I said to her, for I was determined to give Fanny some time alone with William before she had to share him with others.

‘I have never been one to worry about a little cold, when there is a duty to perform,’ said my aunt. ‘Indeed, where would we all be if we allowed such trifles to prevent us from doing what we knew to be right?’

As she stood up, my father spoke, and I realized we had the same idea.

‘Mrs. Norris, I need your advice,’ he said. ‘Do you think I should have the fire built up? It is, as Edmund so rightly says, cold today. Do you think we should have more coal on the fire, or will we grow too hot?’

She looked surprised at being consulted on such a trifling matter but the ruse served, for it gave Fanny a few minutes alone with William. By the time the fire had been thoroughly discussed, Fanny and William had joined us, faces aglow, evidently delighted in each other’s company. William proved to be a young man of open, pleasing countenance, and frank but respectful manners, a credit to my father, the Navy, and himself.

My father welcomed him cordial y, and though she sprinkled her conversation with, ‘I am sure you will be grateful to your uncle’... ‘benefactor’... ‘stirred himself on your behalf’... my aunt made William welcome, too.

Mama showed him Pug, and before long we were all being entertained by stories of life at sea. Fanny watched William avidly, tracing in his manly face the likeness of the boy she had known. I saw her emotions change from elation at being with him, to perplexity at seeing the changes time had wrought in him, to a welcome recognition of certain expressions and features, and then a more happy, settled joy at being with her beloved William again.

Saturday 10 December

William kept us entertained with stories of his exploits at sea and Fanny lived through every minute of them with him, whether he was telling of his time in the Mediterranean or in the West Indies.

‘My captain sometimes took me ashore, and the places were strange at first, and so were the people. They wore—’

‘I have lost my needle,’ said my aunt. ‘Pray, has anyone seen my needle? I cannot sew without it. Sister, have you seen it? It was here with my sewing not five minutes ago.’

We all stopped and looked for her needle. When it was found, William continued, telling us of a chase as the Antwerp ran down a prize.

‘We were gaining on her every minute, and at last we drew alongside her, and then—’

‘Now where is that button? I know I had it somewhere. Do help me to look for it, Fanny.’

‘The button can wait, I am sure, until we have found out whether the Antwerp captured her prize,’ I said. ‘So, William, you boarded the ship? And what then?’

We sat enraptured as he painted the scene for us, and did it so vividly that Mama murmured,

‘Dear me! How disagreeable. I wonder anybody can ever go to sea.’

‘Why, sister, if no one ever went to sea, what would we do with so many men on land?’ asked my aunt. She turned to William. ‘I hope you are grateful for all the chances you have been given because of the beneficence of your uncle. It is not every young man who has someone to speak for him.’

‘Indeed, I am very sensible of it,’ said William, though he looked surprised to be reminded of it for the third time.