Sir Thomas had privately resolved to find a buyer for his plantation, which would, he acknowledge, not ameliorate the evil, and could, in all likelihood, increase the suffering of his slaves, for while his plantations were acknowledged to be free of some of the worst excesses, he could not speak for the good conduct of any new owners. He believed that sugar plantations and the evils they engendered would exist so long as Englishmen wanted sugar; but he desired to wash his hands of the business. However, the recent precipitous fall of the price of sugar, and the banning of the slave trade, had rendered his holdings less valuable than heretofore, and he would not realize one-half of what he might have done a few years ago. But these reflections he kept to himself during his homecoming; he might later speak with Tom and Edmund about them, but for now his thoughts were all for his family.
Sir Thomas took his place by Lady Bertram, and looked with heartfelt satisfaction at his wife, sons, and daughters all collected together exactly as he could have wished. But, he added, after a pause, looking around him, “Where is Fanny? Why do not I see my little niece?”
“Indeed, sir,” exclaimed Tom. “She will be very sorry to have missed this happy reunion. She desired to see her family and so she is gone to Portsmouth.” The reply satisfied Sir Thomas and his sons forestalled any others by asking him for particulars of his voyage, with Sir Thomas ready to give every information, and answer every question of his two sons almost before it was put. He had an opportunity of making his passage thither in a private vessel, instead of waiting for the packet but his return to Liverpool had been delayed about two weeks by a contrary wind across the North Atlantic, and all the little particulars of his proceedings and events, his arrivals and departures, were most promptly delivered.
At length there was a pause. His immediate communications were exhausted, and it seemed enough to be looking joyfully around him, now at one, now at another of the beloved circle; but the pause was not long: in the elation of her spirits Lady Bertram became talkative, and what were the sensations of her children upon hearing her say, “Sir Thomas, Maria’s intended husband is not at Mansfield at present, but Maria assures me he will come back and wait upon you promptly, now you are returned.”
“My dear, in my satisfaction at being home again, I could desire no addition to our family circle, with but one exception—the welcoming of a new son-in-law, an exception I may, I think, approve without reservation. I look forward to making Mr. Rushworth’s acquaintance at the first convenient opportunity, and in no short time thereafter, I trust we may be able to determine the date for that happy occasion which, if our best poets and authors are any guide, will be not less welcome for having been delayed by my extended absence.”
An awkward pause followed Sir Thomas’ speech, as conscious looks were exchanged amongst some of his children. Maria hoped, perhaps unreasonably, for one of her brothers to make the necessary communication, and when Tom remained mute she turned to Edmund with an imploring glance. She dared not, of course, meet Julia’s eye, but Julia had regained sufficient mastery over herself since the hour she had discovered her sister in the arms of the man she loved, or once loved, that only the twisting of her handkerchief in her hands betrayed the inner agitation of her spirit.
“Sir, Maria did have an understanding with Mr. Rushworth,” Edmund finally ventured, “but upon discovering that she had been mistaken in her regard for him, she judged it best to end the engagement.”
Sir Thomas’ brow contracted, and looking from face to face in the little family circle, he fancied he beheld an unease, a holding back. “Your mother spoke, just now, of a husband-to-be. My dear,” he said, turning to his wife, “you cannot be in error on a point as material as this. There is something in this which my comprehension does not reach.”
“I am now engaged to Henry Crawford, father,” Maria finally ventured. “He is the brother of Mrs. Grant, the wife of Dr. Grant.”
The parental brow contracted further, and awful was the suspense of his daughter. “Maria, the choice of the gentleman on whom you choose to bestow your hand is, as it ought to be, a matter of no small significance to me and to everyone associated with you. You will understand that I have many enquiries to make as to how it came to be that you severed a connection so eligible, so suitable, so promising in every respect. Further, I doubt not that this dissolution has been canvassed in every household from here to Sotherton, attaching a degree of notoriety to your name—to our name, which is highly regrettable. And, without paying me the compliment of consultation, you have promised yourself to a man of inferior birth and consequence. But in deference to the delicacy of your situation, we will continue this interview after tea, in my study.”
He turned then, to questions about the Park, and the village and the tenants, which his sons were able to answer to his satisfaction and to give him, at least for that hour, the sensation that nothing else had gone seriously amiss in his absence. Poor Sir Thomas! How brief was this interval of peace to be!
Mrs. Norris was the first visitor to the house to congratulate Sir Thomas on his safe return, having hurried up from the White house when news of his arrival by post chaise had spread through the village. She was vexed that she had not been in the entry hall to greet
