Edmund Bertram's Diary

I rescued Fanny from my aunt’s spite by suggesting a walk in the garden, where we continued our discussion of Thomson, and from thence, sparked by our joy of the soft summer air, Fanny progressed to Cowper, saying:

God made the country, and manmade the town.

‘You were not happy in Portsmouth?’ I said.

‘No. It grieves me to say it, but I was not. I missed Mansfield, not just the countryside, but the people. I had thought, before I went, that I would feel at home there, with my family, but their ways are so different to ours — in truth, I was often horrified. My father...’

‘You may say anything to me, Fanny. If you want to ease your heart, I am at your disposal.’

‘It seems wrong to speak disrespectful y of my parents.’

‘There is no disrespect in turning to a friend for comfort and guidance,’ I said.

‘You do me good, Edmund. You always do me good.’

‘Except...’ I thought of the time I had tried to persuade her to marry Henry Crawford. I had been blinded by my own concerns. I had not been a friend to her there. But I put such thoughts aside and continued, ‘Your family were not what you were expecting them to be?’

‘No. My father cursed a great deal, and my mother seemed content to proceed without any order. I confess, I learnt the lesson that I believe Sir Thomas had been endeavoring to teach me, that wealth and position bring with them many advantages, and that poverty brings with it many hardships that cannot be overlooked.’

‘And yet you did not succumb to the lure of riches that was being held out to you.’

‘No. I would rather live in an attic at Mansfield Park than in a manor house where I did not love.’

‘I too. One evening spent walking by the river with you, talking of things that matter, is of far more value to me than a year in London, talking of nothing and attending the most glittering parties.’

The light began to fade and we went indoors, to continue our conversation in the library, away from Aunt Norris.

Wednesday 19 July

Tom went out riding for the first time since his fall, and though he was wary to begin with he soon regained his confidence and came home looking as well as he did before his illness.

Thursday 27 July

Our evening walks have become a settled thing, and not a day goes by without Fanny and I strolling through the grounds. As we walked by the river this evening I stopped to survey the water, whose surface was sparkling in the sunlight. I thought that it was like Mary, dazzling on the surface, but with mud beneath. Further on, there was no sparkle, but the water was clear and deep, and I thought of Fanny, whose goodness ran down to the depths of her being. I turned to face her and thought how lucky I was to have her, for she had safeguarded my faith in women when Mary would have shattered it.

As long as I have Fanny, I will always know that goodness exists, because I will have it right in front of me.

AUGUST

Tuesday 1 August

My father is so pleased with Julia and Yates, who improve daily, that he has decided to acknowledge them with a ball in their honor. The invitations have gone out and my father’s recognition of their marriage will ensure they are accepted in society.

Wednesday 2 August

I asked Tom if he wanted to go into town with me this morning but he said he was too busy seeing to the improvements on the home farm. He has changed since his illness. He has recovered his health and spirits but he has had a shock, and says he does not want to spend all his life racing and drinking.

‘And that is what it almost was, Edmund. all my life,’ he said to me. Instead, he has started to take an interest in his inheritance, as well as an interest in pleasure. I left him setting out to look over the home farm and went into town alone, where I ordered a string of pearls for Fanny.

Thursday 3 August

I asked Fanny if I might secure her as my partner for the first two dances of Julia’s ball and she agreed. As I did so, I remembered the ball at which I danced the first two dances with Mary, but it seemed almost as though it had happened to another person and not to me. To my surprise, it no longer hurts me, or angers me, or even interests me to think of Mary. She seems of no consequence at all.

Thursday 10 August

As soon as I had dressed for the ball I took the pearls to Fanny’s sitting-room, where I found her. She was watering her geraniums. She was already dressed for the ball and I felt as though I was seeing her, for the first time, as a desirable young woman. Her dress was new and its whiteness set off the soft gold of her arms and face. Her hair was piled on top of her head, showing the gracefulness of her neck, and I could not understand why it had taken me so long to see the truth: I was in love with Fanny. It was Fanny who shared my thoughts and feelings; Fanny who was like me; Fanny who was part of me.

She turned round and saw me.

‘I have brought you something,’ I said. I noticed she was wearing my gold chain round her neck, and William’s amber cross. ‘Would you wear these for me tonight instead?’