Back Mansfield Park and Mummies
Chapters (57)
  1. REGENCY ERA PRAISE FOR…
  2. MANSFIELD PARK AND MUMMIES:
  3. Dedication
  4. MANSFIELD PARK AND MUMMIES
  5. Chapter I
  6. Chapter II
  7. Chapter III
  8. Chapter IV
  9. Chapter V
  10. Chapter VI
  11. Chapter VII
  12. Chapter VIII
  13. Chapter IX
  14. Chapter X
  15. Chapter XI
  16. Chapter XII
  17. Chapter XIII
  18. Chapter XIV
  19. Chapter XV
  20. Chapter XVI
  21. Chapter XVII
  22. Chapter XVIII
  23. Chapter XIX
  24. Chapter XX
  25. Chapter XXI
  26. Chapter XXII
  27. Chapter XXIII
  28. Chapter XXIV
  29. Chapter XXV
  30. Chapter XXVI
  31. Chapter XXVII
  32. Chapter XXVIII
  33. Chapter XXIX
  34. Chapter XXX
  35. Chapter XXXI
  36. Chapter XXXII
  37. Chapter XXXIII
  38. Chapter XXXIV
  39. Chapter XXXV
  40. Chapter XXXVI
  41. Chapter XXXVII
  42. Chapter XXXVIII
  43. Chapter XXXIX
  44. Chapter XL
  45. Chapter XLI
  46. Chapter XLII
  47. Chapter XLIII
  48. Chapter XLIV
  49. Chapter XLV
  50. Chapter XLVI
  51. Chapter XLVII
  52. Chapter XLVIII
  53. APPENDIX
  54. APPENDIX 2
  55. Author’s After-Note
  56. About the Harridan
  57. Scholarly Footnotes

Henry meanwhile forcefully switched back to his levity. “I shall flirt and charm her like a tiny butterfly. And, it can be but for a fortnight. A fortnight is all that is required. And if a fortnight can kill her, she must have a constitution which nothing could save. No, I will not do her any harm, dear little soul! only want her to look kindly on me, to give me smiles as well as blushes, to keep a chair for me by herself wherever we are, and be all animation when I take it and talk to her; to think as I think, be interested in all my possessions and pleasures, try to keep me longer at Mansfield, and feel when I go away that she shall be never happy again. I want nothing more.”

“Moderation itself!” said Mary with a wicked smile. “I can have no scruples now. Well, you will have opportunities enough of endeavouring to recommend yourself, for we are a great deal together.”

And without attempting any further remonstrance, she left Fanny to her fate, a fate which, had not Fanny’s heart been guarded in a way unsuspected by Miss Crawford, might have been a little harder than she deserved.

For, although there doubtless are such unconquerable young ladies of eighteen as are never to be persuaded into love against their judgment by all that talent, manner, attention, and flattery can do, I have no inclination to believe Fanny one of them. With so much tenderness of disposition, and so much taste, she could not have escaped heart-whole from the courtship (though the courtship only of a fortnight) of such a man as Crawford—in spite of there being previous ill opinion of him to be overcome—had not her affection been engaged elsewhere.

With all the security which love of another could give to the peace of mind he was attacking, his continued unobtrusive attentions, adapting themselves to the gentle delicacy of her character—obliged her very soon to dislike him less than formerly. She had not forgotten the past; she thought as ill of him as ever; but she felt his powers. He was entertaining; and his manners were so improved, so seriously and blamelessly polite, that it was impossible not to be civil to him in return.