Dear Fanny: (wrote Miss Lee), I will honour your request for secrecy at this time because of my understanding of Lady Bertram’s character. It is not to be doubted that should she learn you are contemplating accepting a post as a governess it would be a source of great uneasiness for her, and the kinder course is to inform her only if you have positively decided upon taking this position.
My acquaintance with Mr. and Mrs. Smallridge is slight, but I have observed nothing which could suggest that living under their roof would be objectionable or ill-advised, and their children are still too young to have formed any habits that you yourself could not counteract.
Should you decide to accept the post, you and I may meet in the course of the spring, but not before, as Mrs. Smallridge is expecting to be confined later this year and will not be travelling.
Yours, etc.
p.s. Mrs. Smallridge’s letter does not name a salary. I suggest you condition for not less than 20 pounds per annum, with an allowance for clothing. Your youth and inexperience do not justify a greater sum than this.
Fanny was in her favourite retreat, the East Room, wondering whether she had gone mad or was she truly contemplating leaving Mansfield Park, when a gentle tap on the door revealed Mary Crawford seeking admittance.
“Am I right? Yes; this is the East Room. My dear Miss Price, I beg your pardon, but I have made my way to you on purpose to entreat your help.”
Fanny, quite surprised, endeavoured to show herself mistress of the room by her civilities, and looked at the bright bars of her empty grate with concern.
“Thank you; I am quite warm, very warm. Allow me to stay here a little while, and do have the goodness to hear me my third act. I have brought my book, and if you would but rehearse it with me, I should be so obliged! I came here to-day intending to rehearse it with Edmund—by ourselves—against the evening, but he is not in the way; and if he were, I do not think I could go through it with him, till I have hardened myself a little; for really there is a speech or two. You will be so good, won't you?”
Fanny was most civil in her assurances, though she could not give them in a very steady voice.
“Have you ever happened to look at the part I mean?” continued Miss Crawford, opening her book. “Here it is. I did not think much of it at first—but, upon my word. There, look at that speech, and that, and that. How am I ever to look him in the face and say such things?”
Fanny thought privately that Mary Crawford had audacity enough to say and do anything, but lacking the courage to disagree or refuse the request, nodded in assent to both.
“You are to have the book, of course. Now for it. We must have two chairs at hand for you to bring forward to the front of the stage. There—what would your governess and your uncle say to see the school-room chairs used for such a purpose? Could Sir Thomas look in upon us just now, he would bless himself, for we are rehearsing all over the house. Yates is storming away in the dining-room. I heard him as I came upstairs, and the theatre is engaged of course by those indefatigable rehearsers, Agatha and Frederick. If they are not perfect, I shall be surprised. By the bye, I looked in upon them five minutes ago, and it happened to be exactly at one of the times when they were trying not to embrace, and Mr. Rushworth was with me. I thought he began to look a little queer, so I turned it off as well as I could, by whispering to him, 'We shall have an excellent Agatha; there is something so maternal in her manner, so completely maternal in her voice and countenance.' Was not that well done of me? He brightened up directly. Now for my soliloquy.”
She began, and they had got through half the scene, when a tap at the door brought a pause, and the entrance of Edmund, the next moment, suspended it all.
Surprise, consciousness, and pleasure appeared in each of the three on this unexpected meeting; and for Edmund was come on the very same business that had brought Miss Crawford. He too had his book, and was seeking Fanny, to ask her to rehearse with him, and help him to prepare for the evening, without knowing Miss Crawford to be in the house; and great was the joy and animation of being thus thrown together, of comparing schemes, and sympathizing in praise of Fanny's kind offices.
She could not equal them in their warmth. Her spirits sank under the glow of theirs, and she knew she was on the
