Fanny’s eyes were turned on Crawford for a moment with an expression more than grave—even reproachful; but on catching his, were instantly withdrawn. With something of consciousness he shook his head at his sister, and laughingly replied, “I cannot say there was much done at Sotherton; but it was a hot day, and we were all walking after each other, and bewildered. And one must not forget, Mr. Rushworth was so charmingly engaged with the wildlife. Wasn’t there some kind of duck? A vicious creature, it flew in your face, Mary—” As soon as a general buzz gave him shelter, he added, in a low voice, directed solely at Fanny, “I should be sorry to have my powers of planning judged of by the day at Sotherton. I see things very differently now. Do not think of me as I appeared then.”

Sotherton was a word to catch Mrs. Norris, and she called out, in high good-humour, “Sotherton! Yes, that is a place, indeed, and we had a charming day there. William, the next time you come, I hope dear Mr. and Mrs. Rushworth will be at home, and I can answer for your being kindly received by both. Your cousins are not of a sort to forget their relations, and Mr. Rushworth is a most amiable man. They are at Brighton now; in one of the best houses there. When you get back to Portsmouth, you ought to pay your respects to them; and I could send a little parcel by you—”

“I should be very happy, aunt; but Brighton is almost by Beachey Head—”

Mrs. Norris began an eager insistence, when she was stopped by Sir Thomas’s saying with authority, “I do not advise your going to Brighton, William, as I trust you may soon have more convenient opportunities of meeting; but my daughters would be happy to see their cousins anywhere.”

And the subject dropped.

As yet Sir Thomas had seen nothing to remark in Mr. Crawford’s behaviour; but when the whist-table broke up, he found his niece the object of attentions, or rather of professions, of a somewhat pointed character.

Henry Crawford was in the first glow of another scheme about Thornton Lacey, and he told it to Fanny. His plan was to rent the house himself the following winter, that he might have a home of his own in that neighbourhood; and it was not merely for the use of it in the hunting-season. He had set his heart upon having a something there that he could come to at any time, a little homestall at his command, where he might find himself continuing, improving, and perfecting that friendship and intimacy with the Mansfield Park family which was increasing in value to him every day.