Edmund was too angry to speak. But Miss Crawford, looking for a moment with astonished eyes at Mrs. Norris, and then at Fanny, whose tears were beginning to shew themselves, immediately said, with some keenness, “I do not like my situation: this place is too hot for me,” and moved away her chair to the opposite side of the table, close to Fanny, saying to her, in a seemingly kind, low whisper, as she placed herself, “Never mind, my dear Miss Price, this is a cross evening: everybody is cross and teasing, but do not let us mind them.” And with pointed attention Miss Crawford talked to her and endeavoured to raise her spirits, in spite of being out of spirits herself. By a look at her brother she prevented any further entreaty from the theatrical board, and the really good feelings by which she was almost purely governed were rapidly restoring her to all the little she had lost in Edmund’s favour.

In his place, Lord Eastwind smiled.

Fanny did not love Miss Crawford. But she felt very obliged for her present kindness. Miss Crawford took notice of Fanny’s work, wished she could work as well, begged for the pattern, and supposed Fanny was now preparing for her appearance—surely she would “come out”[13] when her cousin was married. She asked if Fanny heard lately from her brother at sea, was curious to see the fine young man, advised Fanny to get his picture drawn before he went to sea again. Fanny admitted it to be very agreeable flattery. She listened and answered with more animation than she had intended.

The consultation upon the play still went on, and Miss Crawford’s attention was first called from Fanny by Tom Bertram’s telling her, with infinite regret, that he found it absolutely impossible for him to undertake the part of Anhalt in addition to the Butler. “But there will not be the smallest difficulty in filling it,” he added. “I could name at least six young men within six miles of us, who are wild to be admitted into our company: either of the Olivers or Charles Maddox. I will ride to-morrow morning to Stoke, and ask one of them.”

While he spoke, Maria looked in apprehension at Edmund, expecting opposition, but he said nothing. After a moment, Miss Crawford calmly replied, “I have no objection. Have I ever seen either of the gentlemen? Yes, Mr. Charles Maddox, a quiet-looking young man, I remember. Let it be him: less unpleasant to me than to have a perfect stranger.”

Charles Maddox was to be the man. Tom repeated his resolution of going to him early on the morrow. Julia observed, in a sarcastic manner that “the Mansfield theatricals would enliven the whole neighbourhood exceedingly.” Yet Edmund still held his peace, and shewed only a determined gravity.