A pause followed. Taking up one of the many volumes of plays on the table, Tom suddenly exclaimed—“Lovers’ Vows! And why should not Lovers’ Vows do for us as well as for the Ravenshaws? Here are two capital tragic parts for Yates and Crawford, and here is the rhyming Butler for me. And as for the rest, they may be filled up by anybody. It is only Count Cassel and Anhalt.”

The suggestion was generally welcome. Everybody was weary of indecision, and Mr. Yates was particularly pleased—he had been longing to do the Baron at Ecclesford, had grudged every rant of Lord Ravenshaw’s, and been forced to re-rant it all in his own room. The role was the height of his theatrical ambition. And he had the advantage of knowing half the scenes by heart already. To do him justice, however, he did not resolve to appropriate it. Remembering that there was some very good ranting-ground in Frederick, he professed an equal willingness for that.

Henry Crawford was ready to take either. Whichever Mr. Yates did not chuse would perfectly satisfy him. Miss Bertram, feeling all the interest of an Agatha in the question, observed to Mr. Yates that height and figure ought to be considered, and that his being the tallest, seemed to fit him peculiarly for the Baron. She was acknowledged to be quite right, then she was certain of the proper Frederick. Three of the characters were now cast, besides Mr. Rushworth, who was always answered for by Maria as willing to do anything (foremost, he would make a fine Caliban, Maria had remarked); when Julia, meaning, like her sister, to be Agatha, began to be scrupulous on Miss Crawford’s account.

“Here are not women enough. Amelia and Agatha may do for Maria and me, but here is nothing for your sister, Mr. Crawford.”

Mr. Crawford desired that might not be thought of. His sister had no wish of acting but as she might be useful. But this was immediately opposed by Tom Bertram, who asserted the part of Amelia to be the property of Miss Crawford, if she would accept it. “It falls as naturally, as necessarily to her,” said he, “as Agatha does to one or other of my sisters. It can be no sacrifice on their side, for it is highly comic.”

A short silence followed. Each sister looked anxious; for each felt the best claim to Agatha, and was hoping to have it. Henry Crawford, who meanwhile had taken up the play, and with seeming carelessness was turning over the first act, soon settled the business.