There was such richness of allusion in every letter, that Fanny could not doubt it was always meant for him to hear. Being forced into this odious “intermediary” correspondence was cruelly mortifying. Fanny could only hope that, when she was no longer under the same roof with Edmund, Miss Crawford would have no motive for writing—at Portsmouth their correspondence would dwindle into nothing.

With such thoughts as these, Fanny proceeded in her journey safely and cheerfully, in this dirty month of February. They entered Oxford, but she could take only a hasty glimpse of Edmund’s college as they passed along. Here Fanny noticed with vague familiarity a few odd lumbering fellows with scabby skin walking about stiffly, and one man bumping into a wall repeatedly, but did not pay them much heed.

They reached Newbury, where a comfortable meal, uniting dinner and supper, wound up the enjoyments and fatigues of the day.

The next morning saw them off again at an early hour. And uneventfully they at last were in the environs of Portsmouth while there was yet daylight for Fanny to look around and wonder at the new buildings. They passed the drawbridge, and entered the town. And the light was only beginning to fail as, guided by William’s powerful voice, they were rattled into a narrow street, leading from the High Street, and drawn up before the door of a small house now inhabited by Mr. Price.

Fanny was all agitation and flutter; all hope and apprehension. The moment they stopped, a trollopy-looking maidservant, waiting for them at the door, stepped forward, and more intent on telling the news than giving them any help, immediately began with, “The Thrush is gone out of harbour, please sir, and one of the officers has been here to—”

She was interrupted by a fine tall boy of eleven. Rushing out of the house, he pushed the maid aside, and while William was opening the chaise-door himself, called out, “You are just in time! We have been looking for you this half-hour. The Thrush went out of harbour this morning. I saw her! It was a beautiful sight. And they think she will have her orders in a day or two. And Mr. Campbell was here at four o’clock to ask for you: he has got one of the Thrush’s boats, and is going off to her at six, and hoped you would be here in time to go with him.”

A stare or two at Fanny, as William helped her out of the carriage, was all the voluntary notice which this brother bestowed. But he made no objection to her kissing him, though still entirely engaged in detailing further particulars of the Thrush’s going out of harbour.