“Have you ever happened to look at the part I mean?” continued Miss Crawford, opening her book. “Here it is. I did not think much of it at first—but, upon my word. There, look at that speech, and that, and that. How am I ever to look him in the face and say such things? Could you do it? But then he is your cousin, which makes all the difference. You must rehearse it with me, that I may fancy you him, and get on by degrees. You have a look of his sometimes.”

“Have I? I will do my best with the greatest readiness; but I must read the part, for I can say very little of it.” Fanny’s reply came in a far steadier voice than she dared to hope for. She also began to wonder about the local availability of holy water—something Edmund himself had taught her as to be effective against evil, when they had last discussed the family Curse. She must obtain a vial the next time they visited the Parsonage chapel.

“You need say none of it, I suppose. You are to have the book, of course. Now—We must have two chairs at hand for you to bring forward to the front of the stage. There—very good school-room chairs, not made for a theatre, I dare say; much more fitted for little girls to sit and kick their feet against when they are learning a lesson. What would your governess and your uncle say to see them used for such a purpose? Could Sir Thomas look in upon us just now, he would bless himself, for we are rehearsing all over the house. Yates is storming away in the dining-room, and the theatre is engaged of course by those indefatigable rehearsers, Agatha and Frederick. By the bye, I looked in upon them five minutes ago, and it happened to be exactly at one of the times when they were trying not to embrace, and Mr. Rushworth was with me. I thought he began to look a little queer and rather wolfish, so I turned it off as well as I could, by whispering to him, ‘We shall have an excellent Agatha; there is something so maternal in her manner, so completely maternal in her voice and countenance.’ Was not that well done of me? He brightened up directly. Now for my soliloquy.”

She began, and Fanny joined in with modest feeling, wondering meanwhile what she might do if Miss Crawford were to suddenly rise and attack her mid-sentence. They had got through half the scene, when a tap at the door brought a pause, and the entrance of Edmund, the next moment, suspended it all.