She could not finish the generous effusion.Her conscience stopped her in the middle,but Edmund was satisfied.
‘I shall walk down immediately after breakfast,’said he,‘and am sure of giving pleasure there.And now,dear Fanny,I will not interrupt you any longer.You want to be reading.But I could not be easy till I had spoken to you,and come to a decision.Sleeping or waking,my head has been full of this matter all night.It is an evil-but I am certainly making it less than it might be.If Tom is up,I shall go to him directly and get it over；and when we meet at breakfast we shall be all in high good humour at the prospect of acting the fool together with such unanimity.You in the meanwhile will be taking a trip into China,I suppose.How does Lord Macartney go on?’（opening a volume on the table and then taking up some others）.And here are Crabbe's Tales,and the Idler,at hand to relieve you,if you tire of your great book.I admire your little establishment exceedingly;and as soon as I am gone,you will empty your head of all this nonsense of acting,and sit comfortably down to your table.But do not stay here to be cold.’
He went;but there was no reading,no China,no composure for Fanny.He had told her the most extraordinary,the most inconceivable,the most unwelcome news;and she could think of nothing else.To be acting!After all his objections-objections so just and so public!After all that she had heard him say,and seen him look,and known him to be feeling.Could it be possible?Edmund so inconsistent.Was he not deceiving himself?Was he not wrong?Alas!it was all Miss Crawford's doing.She had seen her influence in every speech,and was miserable.The doubts and alarms as to her own conduct,which had previously distressed her,and which had all slept while she listened to him,were become of little consequence now.This deeper anxiety swallowed them up.Things should take their course;she cared not how it ended.Her cousins might attack,but could hardly tease her.She was beyond their reach;and if at last obliged to yield-no matter-it was all misery now.
Chapter 17
It was,indeed,a triumphant day to Mr Bertram and Maria.Such a victory over Edmund's discretion had been beyond their hopes,and was most delightful.There was no longer anything to disturb them in their darling project,and they congratulated each other in private on the jealous weakness to which they attributed the change,with all the glee of feelings gratified in every way.Edmund might still look grave,and say he did not like the scheme in general,and must disapprove the play in particular;their point was gained;he was to act,and he was driven to it by the force of selfish inclinations only.Edmund had descended from that moral elevation which he had maintained before,and they were both as much the better as the happier for the descent.
They behaved very well,however,to him on the occasion,betraying no exultation beyond the lines about the corners of the mouth,and seemed to think it as great an escape to be quit of the intrusion of Charles Maddox,as if they had been forced into admitting him against their inclination.‘To have it quite in their own family circle was what they had particularly wished.A stranger among them would have been the destruction of all their comfort,’and when Edmund,pursuing that idea,gave a hint of his hope as to the limitation of the audience,they were ready,in the complaisance of the moment,to promise anything.It was all good humour and encouragement.Mrs Norris offered to contrive his dress,Mr Yates assured him,that Anhalt's last scene with the Baron admitted a good deal of action and emphasis,and Mr Rushworth undertook to count his speeches.
‘Perhaps,’said Tom,‘Fanny may be more disposed to oblige us now.Perhaps you may persuade her.’
‘No,she is quite determined.She certainly will not act.’
‘Oh!very well.’And not another word was said:but Fanny felt herself again in danger,and her indifference to the danger was beginning to fail her already.
