Go on, my dear Fanny, and without fear;
there can be no difficulties worth naming. I chuse to
suppose that the assurance of my consent will be something;
so you may smile upon him with your sweetest smiles
this afternoon, and send him back to me even happier
than he goes.--Yours affectionately, M. C."
These were not expressions to do Fanny any good;
for though she read in too much haste and confusion
to form the clearest judgment of Miss Crawford's meaning,
it was evident that she meant to compliment her on her
brother's attachment, and even to _appear_ to believe
it serious. She did not know what to do, or what to think.
There was wretchedness in the idea of its being serious;
there was perplexity and agitation every way.
She was distressed whenever Mr. Crawford spoke to her,
and he spoke to her much too often; and she was afraid
there was a something in his voice and manner in addressing
her very different from what they were when he talked
to the others. Her comfort in that day's dinner
was quite destroyed: she could hardly eat anything;
and when Sir Thomas good-humouredly observed that joy had
taken away her appetite, she was ready to sink with shame,
from the dread of Mr.
Pages:
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496