Edmund Bertram's Diary

‘They will do each other good. Fanny cannot fail to do Henry good, and he will give her the consequence she deserves. She will feel it every day, every hour, in the way people approach her and speak to her. And he will make her happy. There is no woman Henry cannot fail to please, if he sets his mind to it, and he is certain to set his mind to pleasing the woman he loves. He has already done it. Fanny’s happiness is his only thought.’

‘Ay, so much so that he talks of renting a house round here, so that he need not take her from everything she knows,’ said Mrs. Grant. ‘He means to let Everingham and rent a place in this neighborhood — perhaps Stanwix Lodge.’

‘Settle in Northamptonshire?’ I asked, much pleased. ‘That will be a very good idea.’

‘Yes, is it not pleasant?’ said Mary. ‘Then we shall all be together.’

The look she gave me with this encouraged me more than I can say. We shall all be together. My heart leapt at the thought that she wanted us all to be together as much as I did. Henry and Fanny, and Mary and I.

As I returned home at last, I resolved to put my hopes to the test. As soon as Thornton Lacey is ready to receive a mistress, and as soon as I have settled my affairs so that I know exactly what I am able to offer her, I will ask her to be my wife.

Friday 13 January

I was at Thornton Lacey early this morning, and rode round the grounds, reining in my horse at the southern edge and looking over the adjacent fields. If I can persuade Robert Ingles to sell them to me I can improve the living and increase my income. Having examined them, I returned to Mansfield Park and talked over the idea with my father.

‘An excellent notion,’ he said. ‘Thornton Lacey is capable of a good deal of improvement in the right hands, and I will help you in any way I can.’

He hesitated, and I said, ‘You wish to talk to me about something? About Fanny?’

He nodded.

‘I wish you would have a word with her, Edmund. Crawford talks of constancy, but he is going away in a few days’ time, and I think it is best not to try him too far.’

‘If he knows Fanny’s true worth — and I think that he does — he will not forget her,’ I reassured him, for I did not feel it was in Crawford’s feelings that the obstacle lay.

‘Well, it may be as you say, but I would like some indication of her present feelings. I cannot advise or guide her if I do not know her mind or her heart.’

‘I have been thinking the same thing. I will take the first opportunity of speaking to her alone. The time has come for me to find out what she truly thinks and feels.’

‘Good. She is walking through the shrubbery at the moment. I saw her from the window not five minutes ago.’

‘Then I will join her.’

I donned my coat and a very few minutes took me outside.

‘I am come to walk with you, Fanny,’ I said. I drew her arm through mine companionably, but I was disturbed to find that she did not lean against me, as was her custom. ‘It is a long while since we have had a comfortable walk together, you and I.’

She agreed to this by look rather than word and I could tel by her silence that her spirits were low. My heartfelt for her.

‘I know you have something on your mind,’ I said gently.

‘Am I to hear of it from everybody but Fanny herself?’

She sounded dejected. ‘If you hear of it from everybody, cousin, there can be nothing for me to tel.’

‘Not of facts, perhaps; but of feelings, Fanny. No one but you can tel me them. I do not mean to press you. If it is not what you wish yourself, I have done,’ I said, adding only, by way of encouragement, ‘I had thought it might be a relief.’

‘I am afraid we think too differently for me to find any relief in talking of what I feel,’ she said quietly.

‘Do you suppose that we think differently?’ I asked in surprise. ‘I dare say, that on a comparison of our opinions, they would be found as much alike as they had been used to be. I consider Crawford’s proposals as most advantageous and desirable, if you could return his affection. I consider it as most natural that all your family should wish you could return it; but that, as you cannot, you have done exactly as you ought in refusing him. Can there be any disagreement between us here?’

‘Oh no!’ she cried in relief. ‘But I thought you blamed me! I thought you were against me. This is such a comfort!’

I pull ed her arm further through mine and was relieved and reassured to feel her lean on me.

‘How could you possibly suppose me against you?’ I asked her softly.

‘My uncle thought me wrong, and I knew he had been talking to you.’

‘As far as you have gone, Fanny, I think you perfectly right. Can it admit of a question? It is disgraceful to us if it does. If you did not love Crawford, nothing could have justified your accepting him.’