In truth, it is with sincere regret we inform that the mummies are far from being gone; farther yet from being dispatched completely. And, it must be admitted, some of the worst is yet to come. But—once again, we are getting ahead of ourselves—

Edmund had great things to hear on his return. Many surprises awaited him. The first was the sight of Henry Crawford and Mary Crawford walking together through the village as he rode into it. He had concluded they were long gone. His absence had been extended purposely to avoid Miss Crawford.

He was returning to Mansfield ready to dwell on melancholy remembrances and tender associations, when her own fair self was before him, leaning on her brother’s arm. Edmund found himself receiving a friendly welcome.

Her reception of him was startling. He would have expected anything rather than a look of satisfaction, and words of simple, pleasant meaning. It was enough to set his heart in a glow.

Next, the news of William’s promotion was imparted. He found in it a source of most gratifying joy and cheerfulness all dinner-time.

After dinner, when he and his father were alone, he was told Fanny’s circumstances, and thus was caught up with all the great events at Mansfield.

Fanny suspected what was going on. They sat so much longer than usual in the dining-parlour, that she was sure they must be talking of her. When tea at last brought them away, and she was to be seen by Edmund again, she felt dreadfully guilty.

He came to her, sat down by her, took her hand, and pressed it kindly. And at that moment she thought that she must have betrayed her emotion in some unpardonable excess.

And in the moment of experiencing Edmund’s familiar comforting kindness, for some reason she remembered another—Lord Eastwind’s elegant familiar silhouette, his eyes. . . .

Edmund did not intend, however, by such affectionate action, to be conveying to her he approved. He was, in fact, entirely on his father’s side of the question. Though, his surprise was not so great as his father’s at her refusing Crawford.

While honouring Fanny’s present feelings, he earnestly hoped that it would be a match at last. United by mutual affection, their dispositions were exactly fitted to make them blessed in each other. Crawford had simply not given her time to attach herself. He had begun at the wrong end. With such powers as his, however, and such a disposition as hers, Edmund trusted that everything would work out a happy conclusion. Meanwhile, he saw enough of Fanny’s embarrassment to make him scrupulously guard against increasing it.