“I am not surprised that many young ladies should have esteemed Mr. Crawford, but what of his affections?” Miss Bertram could not resist asking her companion. “Did he ever show any particular regard for anyone?”
“Henry is generally agreeable, as you well know, but I can honestly state that he cared for no one more than he cares for you,” Mary answered stoutly and truthfully. “He was never tempted into contemplating matrimony, I do assure you. I have three very particular friends who have been all dying for him in their turn; and the pains which they, their mothers (very clever women), have taken to reason, coax, or trick him into marrying, is inconceivable!”
The effect of these conversations was not entirely as Mary intended; instead of gratifying Maria’s vanity, the thought of Henry’s many admirers awoke alarming sensations within her breast, and she resolved to watch her beloved carefully when they were together in London for symptoms of particular regard for any young lady who had made his acquaintance before he came to Northamptonshire.
The New Year came, and the long-awaited day arrived, and the Bertram sisters, with their aunt and brother, took possession of their home for the next six months, in London.
Mrs. Norris’ triumph in being the acknowledged chatelaine of a townhome in a fashionable part of London could be readily imagined by anyone acquainted with the lady, and she was no less eager than her young charges in commencing her residence there, in getting her cards printed and even laying out some of her own money in ordering new dresses and bonnets. The dining-room in Wimpole Street was smaller, indeed, than the corresponding room in her old home, the parsonage, but she nevertheless saw herself as she would be in a few weeks’ time—a sought-after hostess, presiding over a table as elegant, and bountifully laid, as Sir Thomas’ money and her own ingenuity could supply.
Sir Thomas, owing to his years in parliament, had a goodly acquaintance in the City. He made his round of visits, left his cards, and established invitations for his family wherever he could. He did not need frequent reminders from his daughters to obtain tickets to Almack’s Assembly Rooms. And with rather more difficulty, because the time was so short, he got his daughters on the list for presentation at St. James’s Court. It was only fitting that the daughters of a baronet make their curtsey to Queen Charlotte.
Maria cherished the idea that the day of her presentation at Court would be the ideal day to publicly announce her understanding with Henry Crawford. It would be coming only twelve weeks after she had dissolved her engagement with Mr. Rushworth. She made it clear to Mary Crawford that she expected Henry to attend at St. James’s on the important day.
But there were many other diversions around London to enchant the Bertram sisters—shopping along the Strand, viewing the Panoramas, walking in Hyde Park, riding on Rotten Row, attending the theatre and the concerts, and drawing the attention of new admirers, so Maria was by no means always pining for Henry. The business of shopping and dressing, of going out visiting and receiving at home, occupied her most agreeably.
* * * * * *
Fanny regarded the New Year as an occasion for self-improvement, and had determined within herself to profitably use any spare time that fell to her, so in addition to practicing her scales on the pianoforte alongside little Caroline, she studied dressmaking, a pursuit that finally gave her a topic of common interest with Mrs. Smallridge, who, as a linen-draper’s daughter, was very knowledgeable about fabrics. Before she left Keynsham Hill, Mrs. Butters had highly praised the two new dresses Fanny had made for herself but had been exasperated when Fanny blushed and demurred, saying to her, “You must be prepared to accept the truth, Miss Price, and that is, you have a talent, my word, indeed you do!” and then fell to seriously commending her skill as a seamstress—how well her new garments fit and moved and the simplicity and elegance of her design. Out of habit, Fanny’s heart fluttered, she grew nervous, and she almost looked over her shoulder to see if Aunt Norris was standing there.
Fanny realized that she had acquired the habit of panicking when she was singled out for praise because she would invariably receive a corrective, administered by Aunt Norris, which depressed her spirits further than the compliment had ever elevated it. To draw notice at Mansfield Park was to expose herself to her Aunt Norris’ resentment and scorn. But here at Keynsham Hill, where, if she had few friends, she had at least no enemies, she need not be so afraid of being distinguished or receiving compliments and praise. This realization materially lessened her fears, and she schooled herself to receive compliments quietly and calmly, without flurries of panic and denial.
Mrs. Butters had been a valuable teacher indeed! And with her departure, Fanny keenly felt the absence of a sympathetic person with whom she could converse unreservedly on larger topics, as the Smallridges never thought or spoke of anything but their own doings and those of their neighbours.
She secretly amused herself by encouraging the habit of daily reading for them both. She had first stimulated Mrs. Smallridge’s interest in novels by reading aloud to her in the evening, from The Ruins of Rigonda, which Mrs. Butters had given to her for Christmas. She set the volume down and was gratified to see Mrs. Smallridge pick it up and finish reading the story herself. She followed that experiment with reading aloud from books describing travels to Scotland and Europe, and she also had the happy thought of sometimes asking Mr. Smallridge for his opinion of current events, so that he was compelled, out of vanity at being thus applied to for his wisdom, to pick up the newspaper to
