She was sorry, really sorry he continued to feel this way. And yet in spite of this and other things which she wished he had not said, she thought him altogether improved since she had seen him. He was much more gentle, obliging, and attentive to other people’s feelings than he had ever been at Mansfield.

She had never seen him so agreeable—so near being agreeable. His behaviour to her father could not offend, and there was something particularly kind and proper in the notice he took of Susan—not to mention the chivalry with which he placed himself in the path of mummified danger to protect them. He was decidedly improved. She wished the next day over, she wished he had come only for one day; but it was not so very bad as she would have expected: the pleasure of talking of Mansfield was so very great!

Before they parted, she had to thank him for another pleasure, and one of no trivial kind. Her father asked him to do them the honour of taking his mutton with them (since “that most excellent Lord Eastwind” as a mutton companion was not to be), and Fanny had time for only one thrill of horror, before Mr. Crawford declared himself prevented by a prior engagement. He was engaged to dinner already both for that day and the next; he had met with some acquaintance at the Crown who would not be denied. He should have the honour, however, of waiting on them again on the morrow.

And so they parted—Fanny in a state of actual felicity from escaping so horrible an evil!

To have had him join their family dinner-party, and see all their deficiencies, would have been dreadful! Mr. Price would probably be carrying on at length about mummies in the dockyards, and how they all battled the villains. Then there was the dire matter of Rebecca’s cookery and Rebecca’s waiting. And one could not forget little Betsey’s eating at table without restraint, and pulling everything about as she chose—quite like having a baboon in the family. Fanny herself was not yet enough inured to Betsey’s habits, for her often to make a tolerable meal. She was nice only from natural delicacy, but he had been brought up in a school of luxury and epicurism.

Chapter XLII

The Prices were just setting off for church the next day when Mr. Crawford appeared again. He came, not to stop, but to join them. He was asked to go with them to the Garrison chapel, which was exactly what he had intended, and they all walked thither together.

Luckily, the streets were clear of any suspicious peeling louts, observed Mr. Price loudly, and Fanny allowed herself a minor shudder.