Henry Crawford continued his supplication with Julia. “You must oblige us,” said he, “indeed you must. When you have studied the character, I am sure you will feel it suit you. Tragedy may be your choice, but comedy chuses you. You will visit me in prison with a basket of provisions; you will not refuse to visit me in prison? Indeed, I see you thus, with your basket.”

The influence of his voice was felt. Julia wavered; but was he only trying to soothe and pacify her, and make her overlook the previous affront? She distrusted him. The slight had been real. He was but at treacherous play with her.

She looked suspiciously at her sister. Maria’s countenance was to decide it: if she were vexed and alarmed—but Maria looked all serenity and satisfaction. And Julia knew that on this ground Maria could not be happy but at her expense. With hasty indignation, therefore, and a tremulous voice, she said to him, “You do not seem afraid of not keeping your countenance when I come in comical, with a basket of provisions—but it is only as Agatha that I was to be so overpowering!” She stopped—Henry Crawford looked rather foolish, and as if he did not know what to say.

Tom Bertram began again—

“Miss Crawford must be Amelia, an excellent Amelia.”

“Do not be afraid of my wanting the character,” cried Julia, with angry quickness: “I am not to be Agatha, and I am sure I will do nothing else. And as to Amelia, it is of all parts in the world the most disgusting to me. I quite detest her. An odious, little, pert, unnatural, impudent girl. I have always protested against comedy, and this is comedy in its worst form.”

And speaking thus, she walked hastily out of the room, leaving awkward feelings to more than one, but eliciting compassion only in Fanny—who had been a quiet auditor of the whole, and thought of her cousin’s jealousy with great pity.

Across the room, Lord Eastwind observed Fanny’s reaction, and knew.

A short silence succeeded Julia’s exit. But her brother soon returned to business, and was eagerly looking over the play, with Mr. Yates’s help, to ascertain what scenery would be necessary, and how to remove all bulky items of Egyptian nature out of the way, particularly the life-size golden statuary—while Maria and Henry Crawford conversed together in an under-voice. Her offer to give up the part to Julia, accompanied with: “Though I shall probably do the part very ill, she would do it worse,” doubtless received all the compliments it called for.

This lasted for some time, then Tom Bertram and Mr. Yates walked off together to consult further in the room now beginning to be called the Theatre. Miss Bertram resolved to go down to the Parsonage herself with the offer of Amelia to Miss Crawford, and Fanny remained alone.