In a few minutes Sir Thomas came to her, and asked if she were engaged; and the “Yes, sir; to Mr. Crawford,” was exactly what he had intended to hear.

Mr. Crawford was not far off; Sir Thomas brought him to her, saying something which stunned Fanny—that she was to lead the way and open the ball. This was an idea that had never occurred to her before.

Whenever she had thought of the minutiae of the evening, it had been as a matter of course that Edmund would begin with Miss Crawford. The impression was so strong, that though her uncle spoke the contrary, she could not help an exclamation of surprise, a hint of her unfitness, an entreaty even to be excused. To be urging her opinion against Sir Thomas’s was a proof of the extremity of the case. But such was her horror at the first suggestion, that she could actually look him in the face and say that she hoped it might be settled otherwise.

Her protests were in vain. Sir Thomas smiled, tried to encourage her, and then looked too serious, and said too decidedly, “It must be so, my dear,” for her to hazard another word. She found herself the next dizzying moment conducted by Mr. Crawford to the top of the room, and standing there to be joined by the rest of the dancers, couple after couple, as they were formed.

She could hardly believe it. To be placed above so many elegant young women! The distinction was too great. It was treating her like her cousins! And her thoughts flew to those absent cousins with most unfeigned and truly tender regret, that they were not at home to take their own place in the room, and have their share of this pleasure. So often had she heard them wish for a ball at home as the greatest of all felicities! And to have them away when it was given—and for her to be opening the ball—and with Mr. Crawford too!

She hoped they would not envy her that distinction now. But when she looked back to the state of things in the autumn, to what they had all been to each other when once dancing in that house before, the present arrangement was almost more than she could understand herself.

The ball began. It was rather honour than happiness to Fanny, for the first dance at least. Her partner was in excellent spirits, and tried to impart them to her. But she was a great deal too much frightened to have any enjoyment till she could suppose herself no longer looked at.