Sir Thomas escorted her to his carriage at the end of the evening, and expressed the wish that his children might have the pleasure of meeting her in London during the season.
“What, Sir Thomas, will we never see you?” enquired his fair guest, hanging on his arm with every appearance of regret.
“Perhaps, and only briefly, Miss Crawford, from time to time, as either my daughters’ calendar requires or my own business interests may direct. But I trust that my son, Edmund Bertram, will prove to be a not unacceptable substitute in London when my duties keep me here at Mansfield, and I have no doubt Mrs. Norris looks forward to welcoming you at Wimpole Street, when you can be spared from your many social engagements elsewhere.” Sir Thomas parted from the young lady in a very benign mood. While disdaining even as a littleness the being quick-sighted on such points, he could not avoid perceiving that his son Edmund was earnestly attracted to the heiress, and so Sir Thomas was well-pleased at the prospect of the young people meeting frequently in London, a circumstance that would, he trusted, compensate his son for the sacrifice in postponing taking up his career.
Mary had a further, final, smile and nod for Edmund, and so the two families parted, with the conviction on Edmund’s part that their future meetings in London must conclude matters between himself and Miss Crawford, one way or another. He would, he must, ask her to be his wife, and now he had only to ask himself, how far could he bend, how much could he give way, for her to say “yes”? He would be ordained, Thornton Lacey would be his home, but—was it, after all, essential that they reside there every month of the year if he engaged a competent curate to assist him in his duties? Could a compromise be reached between himself and the lady? If she should prefer to reside in London, relying upon her own income, for some part of the year—could his pride endure such an arrangement? He could not find an answer but he hoped, he almost believed, she was as desirous of finding a solution to their dilemma as himself.
* * * * * *
Shortly after the New Year, Mrs. Norris, with angry triumph, baited Sir Thomas in his study one morning, carrying the urgent news that one of the upper housemaids was with child, and had named her partner in shame—the scene-painter from London! Mrs. Norris waited expectantly for Sir Thomas’ thanks and his assurance that the young person would be turned from the house before nightfall, but to her dismay he replied, “Scene-painter? I do not know of a scene-painter from London. Are there to be some theatrical exhibitions in the vicinity? How did a scene-painter gain entrance to my home to make his insinuations among my servants?”
For in her zeal to denounce the servant, Mrs. Norris had forgotten that the entire episode of the Mansfield theatricals had been successfully kept from Sir Thomas’ notice, save an absent-minded remark or two from Lady Bertram, which Sir Thomas had interpreted to mean that the young people had entertained their mother with dramatic readings in the evening. Now, in consequence of the acuity and persistence of Sir Thomas in asking questions and drawing inferences, Mrs. Norris had to reveal the truth, so within a quarter of an hour he was pretty much apprised of the entire episode from start to finish—the selection of a play whose central theme was the seduction of innocent maidens, the building of the stage, the monies laid out on the scene-painter, etc., and he also came to the realization that, had Tom never proposed this means of diversion, his daughter Maria might be the respectably married Mrs. Rushworth today.
Mrs. Norris was a little confounded and as nearly being silenced as ever she had been in her life; for she was ashamed to confess having never seen any of the impropriety which was so glaring to Sir Thomas.
Her only resource was to get out of the subject as fast as possible, and turn the current of Sir Thomas's ideas into a happier channel. She had a great deal to insinuate in her own praise as to general attention to the interest and comfort of his family, much exertion and many sacrifices to glance at in the form of hurried walks and sudden removals from her own fireside, and many excellent hints of distrust and economy to Lady Bertram and Edmund to detail.
After this unsatisfactory interview, Sir Thomas also understood why he had been quietly revising his estimation of Mrs. Norris, to her disadvantage, since his return from Antigua. She had always insinuated herself into the affairs of his household, owing chiefly to the complacency of his wife (he would not name it as indolence, not even to himself), and he had professed himself grateful for her solicitude for his family and his concerns. But during his extended absence, his sister-in-law had come to regard herself as the chief superintendent of Mansfield Park, a rôle which she would not or could not easily relinquish. And not only had she made herself irksome to his servants, her overbearing and censorious manner to Fanny, he speculated, may well have caused his sensitive niece no small amount of discomfiture. Mrs. Norris’ removal to London would at least take her from under his roof at Mansfield Park for a time, but as she would be standing in loco parentis for his daughters, he knew that her conception of herself as the guiding force of the family would be strengthened, rather than diminished. It was to be regretted, but he could see no
