“Ah, I understand,” cried her uncle, recollecting himself, and not wanting to hear more: “Your aunt Norris has always been an advocate, and very judiciously, for young people’s being brought up without unnecessary indulgences; but there should be moderation in everything. She is also very hardy—to say the least—herself, which of course will influence her opinion of the wants of others. But this good principle has been carried too far in your case. Now, I think too well of you, Fanny, to suppose you will ever harbour resentment on account of your aunt Norris—But enough of this. Sit down, my dear. I must speak to you for a few minutes, but I will not detain you long.”

Fanny obeyed, with eyes cast down and colour rising. After a moment’s pause, Sir Thomas, trying to suppress a smile, went on.

“You are not aware, perhaps, that I have had a visitor this morning—Mr. Crawford. His errand you may probably conjecture.”

Fanny’s colour grew deeper and deeper. Her uncle, perceiving that she was embarrassed to a degree that made either speaking or looking up impossible, turned away his own eyes gently, and proceeded in his account of Mr. Crawford’s visit.

Mr. Crawford’s business had been to declare himself the lover of Fanny, make decided proposals for her, and entreat the sanction of the uncle, who seemed to stand in the place of her parents. He had done it all so well, so properly, that Sir Thomas was exceedingly happy to give the particulars of their conversation. Sir Thomas was little aware of what was passing in his niece’s mind. He talked, therefore, for several minutes without Fanny’s daring to interrupt him.

She had hardly wanted to. Her mind was in too much confusion. She had changed her position; and, with her eyes fixed intently on one of the windows (Mrs. Norris was either swinging from tree to tree, or Fanny was hallucinating in broad daylight), was listening to her uncle in dismay.

For a moment he ceased. But rising from his chair, he said, “And now, Fanny, having performed one part of my commission, and shewn you everything being most assured and satisfactory, I may execute the remainder by prevailing on you to accompany me downstairs. Mr. Crawford, as you have perhaps foreseen, is yet in the house. He is in my room, and hoping to see you there.”

There was a look, a start, an exclamation on hearing this, which astonished Sir Thomas. But his astonishment increased on hearing her exclaim—“Oh! no, sir, I cannot, indeed I cannot go down to him. Mr. Crawford must know that: I told him enough yesterday to convince him; he spoke to me on this subject yesterday, and I told him without disguise that it was very disagreeable to me, and quite out of my power to return his good opinion.”