Here Fanny interposed, however, with anxious protestations of her own equal ignorance; she had never played the game nor seen it played in her life; and Lady Bertram felt a moment’s indecision again. But upon everybody’s assuring her that nothing could be so easy, that it was the easiest game on the cards, and Henry Crawford’s stepping forward with an earnest request to be allowed to sit between her ladyship and Miss Price, and teach them both, it was so settled. Sir Thomas, Mrs. Norris, and Dr. and Mrs. Grant seated themselves at the table of prime intellectual state and dignity. The remaining six, under Miss Crawford’s direction, were arranged round the other.

It was a fine arrangement for Henry Crawford, who was close to Fanny, and with his hands full of business, having two persons’ cards to manage as well as his own (even though Fanny learned the rules of the game in three minutes), he had yet to inspirit her play, sharpen her avarice, and harden her heart, which, especially in any competition with William, was a work of some difficulty. As for Lady Bertram, he continued in charge of all her fame and fortune through the whole evening, in order to keep her from looking at her cards inappropriately, and to direct her in each move.

He was in high spirits, doing everything with happy ease, in lively turns, quick resources, and playful impudence that could do honour to the game.

That is, until Lord Eastwind silently took a seat on the other side of Fanny.

Henry glared at him mockingly, but Eastwind ignored him after a single unreadable glance, while Fanny, feigning ignorance, felt herself boxed in from all sides.

From the other table Sir Thomas inquired into the enjoyment and success of his lady, but in vain, being unheard; till Mrs. Grant was able to go to her and pay her compliments.

“I hope your ladyship is pleased with the game.”

“Oh dear, yes! very entertaining indeed. A very odd game. I do not know what it is all about. I am never to see my cards; and Mr. Crawford does all the rest, like Horus presiding over fate.”

Fanny glanced to one side of her where Mr. Crawford was perusing their cards, and then to the other where Lord Eastwind was perusing her.

“What is it?” she whispered. “Why do you look at me so?

Lord Eastwind drew his face closer and for a moment would not speak, only gazed at her, like a waking dream.

“I look at you, Miss Price,” he replied, “Because, as the sun must rise in the morrow and then sink in the evening, as the wind must sweep the stones smooth with time, it is inevitable. I need to look at you always, because unlike all the rest of them, you are so much alive.”

“What does that mean, Lord Eastwind?”