Norris, who was
presiding there.
"Fanny," cried Tom Bertram, from the other table,
where the conference was eagerly carrying on, and the
conversation incessant, "we want your services."
Fanny was up in a moment, expecting some errand; for the
habit of employing her in that way was not yet overcome,
in spite of all that Edmund could do.
"Oh! we do not want to disturb you from your seat.
We do not want your _present_ services. We shall only want
you in our play. You must be Cottager's wife."
"Me!" cried Fanny, sitting down again with a most frightened look.
"Indeed you must excuse me. I could not act anything
if you were to give me the world. No, indeed, I cannot act."
"Indeed, but you must, for we cannot excuse you.
It need not frighten you: it is a nothing of a part,
a mere nothing, not above half a dozen speeches altogether,
and it will not much signify if nobody hears a word you say;
so you may be as creep-mouse as you like, but we must have
you to look at."
"If you are afraid of half a dozen speeches," cried Mr. Rushworth,
"what would you do with such a part as mine? I have forty-two to
learn.
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