"Good heaven! how very, very kind! Have you really--
was it by _your_ desire? I beg your pardon, but I
am bewildered. Did Admiral Crawford apply? How was it?
I am stupefied."
Henry was most happy to make it more intelligible,
by beginning at an earlier stage, and explaining very
particularly what he had done. His last journey to London
had been undertaken with no other view than that of
introducing her brother in Hill Street, and prevailing
on the Admiral to exert whatever interest he might
have for getting him on. This had been his business.
He had communicated it to no creature: he had not
breathed a syllable of it even to Mary; while uncertain
of the issue, he could not have borne any participation
of his feelings, but this had been his business; and he
spoke with such a glow of what his solicitude had been,
and used such strong expressions, was so abounding
in the _deepest_ _interest_, in _twofold_ _motives_,
in _views_ _and_ _wishes_ _more_ _than_ _could_ _be_ _told_,
that Fanny could not have remained insensible of his drift,
had she been able to attend; but her heart was so full
and her senses still so astonished, that she could listen
but imperfectly even to what he told her of William,
and saying only when he paused, "How kind! how very kind!
Oh, Mr.
Pages:
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490