“The Miss Owens,” said she, soon afterwards; “suppose one of them settled at Thornton Lacey. How should you like it? Sir Thomas Bertram’s son is somebody; and now he is in their own line. Their father, brother, they are all clergymen together. He is their lawful property; he fairly belongs to them.”

“No,” said Fanny stoutly, “I do not expect it at all.”

“Not at all!” cried Miss Crawford with alacrity. “I wonder at that. But I dare say you know exactly—perhaps you do not think him likely to marry at all—or not at present.”

“No, I do not,” said Fanny softly, hoping she did not err either in the belief or the acknowledgment of it.

Her wickedly charming companion looked at her keenly; and, gratified by Fanny’s blush, said, “He is best off as he is.”

Chapter XXX

Miss Crawford’s uneasiness was much lightened by this conversation. She walked home again in high spirits—if such may be attributed to a spiritless vampire—and she even felt a sudden sympathetic zest for the living, a hunger unlike the usual.

That very evening brought her brother down from London, in quite more than his usual cheerfulness. Still refusing to tell her what he had gone for might have irritated, but now it was a pleasant joke. And the next day did bring a surprise to her. Henry had said he should just go and ask the Bertrams how they did, and be back in ten minutes, but he was gone above an hour. When his sister met him at last impatiently in the garden, and cried out, “My dear Henry, where can you have been all this time?” he said he had been sitting with Lady Bertram and Fanny.

“Sitting with them an hour and a half!” exclaimed Mary.

But this was only the beginning of her surprise.

“Yes, Mary,” said he, drawing her arm within his, and walking along the sweep as if not knowing where he was: “I could not get away sooner; Fanny looked so lovely! I am quite determined, Mary. My mind is entirely made up. Will it astonish you? No: you must be aware that I am quite determined to marry Fanny Price.”

The surprise was now complete. For, in spite of whatever behavior, a suspicion of his having any such views had never entered his sister’s imagination. She looked so astonished, that he was obliged to repeat, more solemnly.

The conviction of his determination, once admitted, was not unwelcome. There was even pleasure with the surprise. Mary was in a state of mind to rejoice in a connexion with the Bertram family, and to be not displeased with her brother’s marrying a little beneath him.