“Thank you, I am so glad,” was Fanny’s instinctive reply. Though when she had turned from him and shut the door, she could not help feeling, “And yet why should I be glad? for am I not certain of seeing or hearing something there to pain me?”

In spite of this conviction, however, she was glad. Simple as such an engagement might appear in other eyes, it had novelty and importance in hers, for, excepting the day at Sotherton, she had scarcely ever dined out before.

But Mrs. Norris, invited by Sir Thomas to keep Lady Bertram company, was in a very ill humour, ready to spoil Fanny’s pleasure.

“Upon my word, Fanny, you are in high luck to meet with such attention and indulgence! You ought to be very much obliged to Mrs. Grant for thinking of you, and to your aunt for letting you go, and you ought to look upon it as something extraordinary. For I hope you are aware that the compliment is intended to your uncle and aunt and me. Mrs. Grant thinks it a civility due to us to take a little notice of you. If your cousin Julia had been at home, you would not have been asked at all.”

Mrs. Norris had now so ingeniously done away all Mrs. Grant’s part of the favour, that Fanny, who found herself expected to speak, could only say that she was very much obliged to her aunt Bertram for sparing her.

“Oh! depend upon it, your aunt can do very well without you, or you would not be allowed to go. I shall be here. And I hope you will have a very agreeable day, and find it all mighty delightful. But I must observe that five is the very awkwardest of all possible numbers to sit down to table; and I cannot but be surprised that such an elegant lady as Mrs. Grant should not contrive better! Remember that, Fanny. Five—only five to be sitting round that table. However, you will have dinner enough on it for ten, I dare say.”

Mrs. Norris fetched breath, and went on again, warning Fanny not to be forward, not to step out of one’s proper sphere, not to give opinions, and to stay for only as long as Edmund.

“Yes, ma’am, I should not think of anything else.”

“And if it should rain, you must manage as well as you can, and not be expecting the carriage to be sent for you.”

Her niece thought it perfectly reasonable. She rated her own claims to comfort as low even as Mrs. Norris could. And when Sir Thomas soon afterwards, just opening the door, said, “Fanny, at what time would you have the carriage come round?” she felt a degree of astonishment which made it impossible for her to speak.