For the first seven miles Miss Bertram had very little real comfort: her prospect always ended in Mr. Crawford and her sister sitting side by side, full of conversation and merriment. To see only his expressive profile, as he turned with a smile to Julia, or to catch the laugh of the other, was a perpetual source of irritation. Her own sense of propriety could barely smooth it over. When Julia looked back, it was with a countenance of delight, and whenever she spoke, it was in the highest spirits: “her view of the country was charming, she wished they could all see it,” etc. But her only offer of exchange was addressed to Miss Crawford, as they gained the summit of a long hill, and was not more inviting than this: “Here is a fine burst of country. I wish you had my seat, but I dare say you will not take it, let me press you ever so much;” and Miss Crawford could hardly answer before they were moving again at a good pace.

When they came within the influence of Sotherton associations, it was better for Miss Bertram, who might be said to have two strings to her bow. She had Rushworth feelings, and Crawford feelings, and in the vicinity of Sotherton the former had considerable effect. Mr. Rushworth’s consequence was hers. She could not tell Miss Crawford that “those woods belonged to Sotherton,” she could not carelessly observe that “she believed that it was now all Mr. Rushworth’s property on each side of the road,” without elation of heart. And this pleasure only increased with their approach to the capital freehold mansion, and ancient manorial residence of the family, with all its rights of court-leet and court-baron.