“Well,” said Mrs. Norris, moving to go, “I can only say that my sole desire is to be of use to your family. If Sir Thomas should ever speak again about my taking Fanny, you might say that my health and spirits put it quite out of the question. Besides, I really have no bed to give her, for I must keep a spare room for a friend.”

Lady Bertram repeated enough of this conversation to convince her husband how much he had mistaken his sister-in-law’s views. From that moment Mrs. Norris was perfectly safe from all expectation. He could not but wonder at her refusing to do anything for a niece whom she had been so forward to adopt. But he grew reconciled to being better able to provide for Fanny himself.

Fanny soon learnt how unnecessary her fears had been. Her resulting happiness conveyed much consolation to Edmund on her behalf. Mrs. Norris took possession of the White House, its vermin soon fled, the Grants arrived at the Parsonage, and these events over, everything at Mansfield went on for some time as usual.

We are come, dear Reader, very close to the beginning of the introduction of a certain much anticipated subject—namely, mummies—close but not quite there, so patience, all in due course—

The Grants, disposed to be friendly and sociable, gave great satisfaction among their new acquaintance. They had their faults, and Mrs. Norris soon found them out. The Doctor was very fond of eating, and would have a good dinner every day. And Mrs. Grant, instead of contriving to gratify him at little expense, gave her cook as high wages as they did at Mansfield Park, and was scarcely ever seen in her offices. Mrs. Norris could not speak with any temper of such grievances, nor of the quantity of butter and eggs that were regularly consumed in the house. “Nobody loved plenty and hospitality more than herself; the Parsonage had never been wanting in comforts of any sort, had never borne a bad character in her time, but this was truly incomprehensible. A fine lady in a country parsonage was quite out of place. Her store-room might have been good enough for Mrs. Grant. Inquiries produced that Mrs. Grant never had more than five thousand pounds.”

Lady Bertram listened without much interest to this sort of invective. Fully submerged in Ancient mysteries and indeed drowning in Egyptology, she only felt all the injuries of beauty in Mrs. Grant’s being so well settled in life without being handsome, and expressed her astonishment on that point almost as often as Mrs. Norris discussed the other.