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[ 此帖被narcis在2013-10-31 03:16重新编辑 ]
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《曼斯菲尔德庄园》 序
在这个世界上，没有多少人例外，我们从《傲慢与偏见》进入奥斯丁世界，等到拿起《曼斯菲尔德庄园》时，已经是奥斯丁的一个跟屁虫了。
达西出场，“身材魁梧，眉清目秀，举止高贵，”这就让我们有无限好感了，而紧接着一句，“每年有一万磅的收入，”更把这人头马的道德资本给夯实了。所以，整个小说的高潮不在最后的终成眷属，而是达西的“彭伯里”登场。
“彭伯里的树林一出现在眼前，伊丽莎白就有些心慌”，事实上，伊丽莎白·班纳特马上被达西的彭伯里大厦征服，“顿时不禁觉得：在彭伯里当个主妇也还不错吧。”接下来，达西的所有行动，即便有些傲慢，因为有彭伯里当底子，都获得了奥斯丁和伊丽莎白的赞许。而我们读者，作为奥斯丁领地上的居民，自然会分享奥斯丁作品中的一条公理：财产，对于单身汉，那是一种道德增值。啊欧，达西那“一万磅”，没在你心中增加对他的好感吗？
可是，《曼斯菲尔德庄园》似乎要修正我们的势利眼，虽然小说一开头，还是经济问题：七千英镑嫁入曼斯菲尔德庄园，马利亚·沃德小姐实在是赚的！但是，我们的女主人公芬妮第一次走进曼斯菲尔德庄园，却没有表现出伊丽莎白式的倾倒。相反，“公馆的富丽堂皇令她吃惊，但是并不能安慰她。那些房间太大了，她在屋里觉得不自在；任何东西她都不敢碰，怕弄坏它们；不论走到哪里她都提心吊胆，怕遇到什么意外，最后只得退回到自己屋里啼哭。”当然，芬妮其时才十岁，还不懂得财产可以兑换成美德。
但接下来的芬妮意志就让我们对她刮目相看了。
小说第四章，芬妮已经十八岁。亨利·克劳福德先生出场，他有钱，风度翩翩，眉目清秀，立马惹得曼斯菲尔德庄园的两个小姐争风吃醋起来，但奥斯丁说得明明白白，他不是真心的，他是玩弄女性感情的魔鬼。而且，小说中途第二十四章，他的确显露了魔鬼本色，他再次来到曼斯菲尔德，因为没什么消遣，突然决定，“让芬妮·普莱斯爱上我”，他踌躇满志地要在芬妮的心上打一个小小的洞。可隔了六章，这个纨绔子弟就向世故的妹妹玛丽·克劳福德承认，他已经离不开芬妮，“下定决心要与芬妮·普莱斯结婚了”。但是，面对这个几乎已经变得和达西一样好的亨利，芬妮从不曾真正动心，甚至好几次，连奥斯丁也跳出来帮他说话，为他打气，铁棒磨成针啊！
其实，也不能说芬妮完全无动于衷，亨利跑到她老家朴茨茅斯去看她，脱离了曼斯菲尔德的芬妮在自己的家里反而孤苦伶仃，而亨利又显得前所未有的体贴，敏感和细腻。有那么一刹那，芬妮自己也动摇，“难道他的求婚不是完全合理的吗？”可是，问题就在于，从童年时代起，芬妮就默默地爱着表哥埃德蒙，虽然埃德蒙爱的是玛丽·克劳福德。
小说最后四章，亨利的命运急转直下，当然，这逆转并不完全来自他一边爱着芬妮，一边又引诱了已经成婚的曼斯菲尔德庄园的大小姐与他私奔，这逆转来自他突然失去了奥斯丁的庇护，或者说，奥斯丁突然失去了《傲慢与偏见》时代的宽容心情，她变得严肃起来。
我们都记得，达西在《傲慢与偏见》中做的最大的一宗好事就是他悄悄找到了私奔的韦翰和丽迪雅，并押着他们去结了婚，从而挽回了班纳特家的面子，这事后来也让伊丽莎白无限感激，并一举抹掉了她的所有偏见。但是发生在《曼斯菲尔德庄园》里的私奔却不能这样收场，而且，当玛丽·克劳福德向埃德蒙提出，私奔的男女应该尽快结婚，藉此让丑闻最方便地结束时，埃德蒙却非常激动地向芬妮说道：“她向我们提出了一条转危为安、妥协和解、纵容错误的途径，也就是通过结婚让罪行继续下去；可是照我现在对她哥哥的看法，结婚正是我们应该阻止，而不是促成的事。”并且，因为玛丽的这个建议，埃德蒙对她终于彻底失望，并万分痛心地感到，以前从来没有真正了解过她。对玛丽这么严格，对亨利就不用说了，小说最后，奥斯丁很干脆地说，亨利走上了“绝望的道路”。
有很多读者不满意《曼斯菲尔德庄园》的结尾，芬妮和埃德蒙最后的结合太过草率，完全是奥斯丁上帝般的一个手势！相比《傲慢与偏见》，达西和伊丽莎白修成正果的时候，我们觉得幸福，但芬妮和埃德蒙的婚姻，我们虽觉得应该，却没有特别大的欢喜。那我们的不满足来自哪里呢？
1809年，奥斯丁一家离开南安普顿，搬入了肖顿屋。这次搬家在奥斯丁个人写作史上可以算一个分水岭，之前她完成了《理智与情感》《傲慢与偏见》《诺桑觉寺》，之后完成了《曼斯菲尔德庄园》《爱玛》和《劝导》，之间有十二三年没什么作品。虽然《曼斯菲尔德庄园》在《傲慢与偏见》出版一年后就出版了，而且两书在人物和情节上有诸多同构，但无论是语调还是气氛，两书都截然不同。
动手写《曼斯菲尔德庄园》时，奥斯丁36岁，不知是不是获得了更多的自我，奥斯丁的声音不再局限在一个主人公身上，她自由出入多个角色，既用芬妮的眼睛看，也用埃德蒙的眼睛看，一个转身，她也用托马斯爵士，甚至玛丽·克劳福德的眼睛看，所以，我们读者似乎也被逼着不能任性了，像伊丽莎白·班纳特那样一个角度看人，容易产生偏见的啊！
的确，《曼斯菲尔德庄园》把偏见降到了最低点，诺里斯姨妈是本书中最受嘲讽也最讨嫌的人物，但是，在第十章的结尾，一群年轻人旅行回程，奥斯丁还是非常公道地说了一句，“但是当诺里斯太太不再说话时，车上便变得死一般的沉寂。”所以，像诺里斯太太这样的多嘴多舌的中老年女性，都会因为这句话获得小说的生存权。同时，作为道德化身的芬妮，当她拒绝出演表哥表姐们的家庭戏剧时，我们也获得多种理由来解释她的动机，她害羞！她清教徒！还是，她跟她的姨父托马斯爵士一样，压根厌恶对家庭秩序和日常生活的破坏！
换句话说，阅读早期奥斯丁作品的经验在这里起了微妙的变化，现在的主人公不再能够被“理智”和“情感”，“傲慢”与“偏见”这样的概念所统摄，芬妮虽然寄人篱下，顺从听话，但她的内心法则却无比强硬，而这种强硬又完全不同于伊丽莎白·班纳特那种青春型的自由意志，毋宁说，芬妮的强硬和她小说中的年龄不相配，倒和作者奥斯丁的年龄比较相称，而同时我们也有理由认为，奥斯丁藉着芬妮，第一次把爱情概念扩大了，也第一次表露了最个人化的爱情观念：以深沉的兄妹“情谊”为基础，这样的结合，远比罗曼蒂克的“爱”更有价值。
奥斯丁研究专家普遍认同这样一种说法，《曼斯菲尔德庄园》里，奥斯丁的讽刺笔触更加犀利也更加全面。好像是的，曼斯菲尔德庄园的朋友圈，大多是富人，而富人，一向是奥斯丁调戏的对象，所以，轮番出场的人物，从芬妮的两个姨妈，到两个表姐，到表姐夫，表姐夫的妈妈，每一个人物都是领了奥斯丁淋漓的讽刺才落座的，但是芬妮除外。想想《傲慢与偏见》《理智与情感》的主人公们，他们一个个比芬妮美，比芬妮更有激情更有思想更有才华，但每一个人都得过奥斯丁的冷嘲热讽，但芬妮没有。甚至，芬妮回到家乡朴茨茅斯，突然看不惯自己的家，看不起自己的父母，吃不惯家里的饭，奥斯丁也没有一句讽刺的话，还竭力地贬损她的家人来为她的反应背书，实在是，在芬妮身上，奥斯丁已经把自己卷进去了。
爱德华·萨义德曾处心积虑地用《曼斯菲尔德庄园》中的一个偏远地理概念——安提瓜，提出了文化和帝国主义的问题。他详细分析了托马斯爵士的离开，展示了小说中的家庭秩序对另一个世界——缺席的加勒比殖民地——的依赖。把他的这个思路推到小说中的人物关系，我们会发现，玛丽和亨利，相较于芬妮和埃德蒙，几乎就是亨利·詹姆斯后来反复探讨的关系，既是世俗欧洲对纯洁美洲的一次性启蒙，也是淫荡欧洲被清教美洲的一次爱教育。而在芬妮身上，更是多个层面汇聚一起，她是安提瓜，又是英帝国；是曼斯菲尔德，又是朴茨茅斯；是美洲，又是欧洲，而这样多层面交织的结果，无疑大大削弱了芬妮的爱情激素，《曼斯菲尔德庄园》也因此成了奥斯丁小说中最丰富也最严肃的一部。
事实上，除了奥斯丁以旁观者的热情介绍了芬妮对埃德蒙的感情，我们就没见过男女主人公像样地谈过一次恋爱，所以，被奥斯丁早期小说养育大的读者，面对这种水到渠成式的兄妹情爱，难免不满足。芬妮和埃德蒙的爱情，既没有财产需要赞美，也没有意志需要重申，漫长的岁月更拖垮了化学反应，甚至，原谅我还保留着《傲慢与偏见》时代的势利，《曼斯菲尔德庄园》看到最后，当玛丽·克劳福德对埃德蒙喊道，如果芬妮接受亨利，那大家就都快活了！有那么一瞬间，虽然这样的呼吁被埃德蒙认为十分罪恶，我却觉得也可能是一部分读者的心声。毕竟，在整部小说中，最有恋爱表情也最有恋爱勇气的，是这个花花公子亨利，他那么有激情，那么有诚意，那么可能成为达西！甚至，我在想，亨利可能给芬妮更大的幸福，因为，毫无疑问，只有离开曼斯菲尔德，芬妮才能获得真正的主体性，否则，她永远是曼斯菲尔德庄园的一个养女，埃德蒙的一个表妹。
奥斯丁听到我们说出这么冲动的话，摇头了。
《曼斯菲尔德庄园》看过几遍以后，终于明白，奥斯丁是不会让芬妮离开庄园的。这是伟大的英国文学传统决定的。
问过很多从英国回来的朋友，最难忘的是什么？几乎百分百，他们都回答，英国乡村风景。根据奥斯丁小说改编的电影也不计其数了，我相信多数粉丝也最喜欢BBC版本，原因无他，BBC镜头里的英国风景最迷人。甚至，夸张地说，当英国田野、小路、河流、庄园在眼前徐徐展开时，我们莫名地会有一种乡愁感，虽然，比如我自己，从来就不曾到过英国。那乡愁从何而来？
很多个假期，我一遍又一遍地看奥斯丁，看到伊丽莎白·班纳特面对彭伯里无力自拔，我也跟着软无力。当然，你说我势利我也没意见，但彭伯里为什么比英国国会更激动人心？是什么东西催眠了我们的意志，让我们的心灵和伊丽莎白一样既轻佻又庄重。实在是，英国文学史上，使得乡村风景具有最大抒情功能的，奥斯丁是当之无愧的第一人。而奥斯丁的六部完整作品，哪一部离得开乡村风景？她自己也说得很明白，她写的，无非是“乡间村庄里的三四户人家”，而这六部中，倒有两部，还直接以地方命名。因此，与其说《曼斯菲尔德庄园》是一部爱情小说，不如说它是一部有关一个人对一个地方的爱。
这样想，我们也可以对芬妮和埃德蒙的兄妹之爱释怀了。让我用最通俗的方法来解释一下，整部小说中，真正的男主人公是曼斯菲尔德庄园，你也可以说，它就是达西，所以芬妮第一次面对“他”时，并不愉快，这跟《傲慢与偏见》的出场很相似；而亨利·克劳福德的出场，就代表着要把芬妮带离曼斯菲尔德的力量，这力量当然只能以韦翰似的方式收场；相似的，为了让芬妮真正意识到曼斯菲尔德的好，需要让她离开一段时间，所以朴茨茅斯一段必不可少，虽然有不少读者嫌这一段多余，但曼斯菲尔德在道德上必须有朴茨茅斯这样的陪衬，就像曼斯菲尔德在经济上需要不出场的安提瓜；这样，最后，小说也就顺理成章以曼斯菲尔德和芬妮的关系结尾：
他们搬回曼斯菲尔德以后，便住在那里的牧师府中，这幢房子在它从前的两个主人居住时，芬妮每次走到那里，总不免要提心吊胆，惴惴不安，现在却很快成了她心爱的地方，在她眼中，它已与曼斯菲尔德庄园区域内的一切景物融成一片，变得同样美好了。
所以，一点不奇怪，小说中每次芬妮情绪波动，都是曼斯菲尔德庄园的景色出场，它是安慰，它是抚摸，它是爱情。这样的人和景色之间的绵绵情意，在英国文学中，由来已久，就像华兹华斯的《露西》组诗所表达的，“你绿色的田野曾最后一次 / 抚慰过她临终时的眼睛”。英国作家和风景之间，常给人一种“幸福，因为在英国”的感觉，那奥斯丁的贡献在哪里呢？
基本上，奥斯丁以最不动声色的方式，把英国作家的这种情怀扩大为英国人的普遍情怀，最后，藉着她世世代代的读者，英国风景无声无息地成为无数人的乡愁。她描写的村庄的景象、道路的状况、土壤的差别、庄园的气派、河流的反光，充溢其间的感情既是特殊的又是日常的，既是个人的又是普遍的，所以它具有介乎神和人的品质，既给我们的心灵带来愉悦，也提供劝导：就这样，和曼斯菲尔德在一起。
和曼斯菲尔德在一起，和英国乡村在一起，和英国在一起，奥斯丁对英国的传销，真正做到了：生是你的人，死是你的鬼。
毛尖
[ 此帖被narcis在2013-10-27 00:49重新编辑 ] -
Chapter One
About thirty years ago Miss Maria Ward, of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds, had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, in the county of Northampton, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet's lady, with all the comforts and consequences of an handsome house and large income. All Huntingdon exclaimed on the greatness of the match, and her uncle, the lawyer, himself, allowed her to be at least three thousand pounds short of any equitable claim to it. She had two sisters to be benefited by her elevation; and such of their acquaintance as thought Miss Ward and Miss Frances quite as handsome as Miss Maria, did not scruple to predict their marrying with almost equal advantage. But there certainly are not so many men of large fortune in the world as there are pretty women to deserve them. Miss Ward, at the end of half a dozen years, found herself obliged to be attached to the Rev. Mr. Norris, a friend of her brother-in-law, with scarcely any private fortune, and Miss Frances fared yet worse. Miss Ward's match, indeed, when it came to the point, was not contemptible: Sir Thomas being happily able to give his friend an income in the living of Mansfield; and Mr. and Mrs. Norris began their career of conjugal felicity with very little less than a thousand a year. But Miss Frances married, in the common phrase, to disoblige her family, and by fixing on a lieutenant of marines, without education, fortune, or connexions, did it very thoroughly. She could hardly have made a more untoward choice. Sir Thomas Bertram had interest, which, from principle as well as pride--from a general wish of doing right, and a desire of seeing all that were connected with him in situations of respectability, he would have been glad to exert for the advantage of Lady Bertram's sister; but her husband's profession was such as no interest could reach; and before he had time to devise any other method of assisting them, an absolute breach between the sisters had taken place. It was the natural result of the conduct of each party, and such as a very imprudent marriage almost always produces. To save herself from useless remonstrance, Mrs. Price never wrote to her family on the subject till actually married. Lady Bertram, who was a woman of very tranquil feelings, and a temper remarkably easy and indolent, would have contented herself with merely giving up her sister, and thinking no more of the matter; but Mrs. Norris had a spirit of activity, which could not be satisfied till she had written a long and angry letter to Fanny, to point out the folly of her conduct, and threaten her with all its possible ill consequences. Mrs. Price, in her turn, was injured and angry; and an answer, which comprehended each sister in its bitterness, and bestowed such very disrespectful reflections on the pride of Sir Thomas as Mrs. Norris could not possibly keep to herself, put an end to all intercourse between them for a considerable period.
Their homes were so distant, and the circles in which they moved so distinct, as almost to preclude the means of ever hearing of each other's existence during the eleven following years, or, at least, to make it very wonderful to Sir Thomas that Mrs. Norris should ever have it in her power to tell them, as she now and then did, in an angry voice, that Fanny had got another child. By the end of eleven years, however, Mrs. Price could no longer afford to cherish pride or resentment, or to lose one connexion that might possibly assist her. A large and still increasing family, an husband disabled for active service, but not the less equal to company and good liquor, and a very small income to supply their wants, made her eager to regain the friends she had so carelessly sacrificed; and she addressed Lady Bertram in a letter which spoke so much contrition and despondence, such a superfluity of children, and such a want of almost everything else, as could not but dispose them all to a reconciliation. She was preparing for her ninth lying-in; and after bewailing the circumstance, and imploring their countenance as sponsors to the expected child, she could not conceal how important she felt they might be to the future maintenance of the eight already in being. Her eldest was a boy of ten years old, a fine spirited fellow, who longed to be out in the world; but what could she do? Was there any chance of his being hereafter useful to Sir Thomas in the concerns of his West Indian property? No situation would be beneath him; or what did Sir Thomas think of Woolwich? or how could a boy be sent out to the East?
The letter was not unproductive. It re-established peace and kindness. Sir Thomas sent friendly advice and professions, Lady Bertram dispatched money and baby-linen, and Mrs. Norris wrote the letters.
Such were its immediate effects, and within a twelvemonth a more important advantage to Mrs. Price resulted from it. Mrs. Norris was often observing to the others that she could not get her poor sister and her family out of her head, and that, much as they had all done for her, she seemed to be wanting to do more; and at length she could not but own it to be her wish that poor Mrs. Price should be relieved from the charge and expense of one child entirely out of her great number. "What if they were among them to undertake the care of her eldest daughter, a girl now nine years old, of an age to require more attention than her poor mother could possibly give? The trouble and expense of it to them would be nothing, compared with the benevolence of the action." Lady Bertram agreed with her instantly. "I think we cannot do better," said she; "let us send for the child."
Sir Thomas could not give so instantaneous and unqualified a consent. He debated and hesitated;--it was a serious charge;-- a girl so brought up must be adequately provided for, or there would be cruelty instead of kindness in taking her from her family. He thought of his own four children, of his two sons, of cousins in love, etc.;--but no sooner had he deliberately begun to state his objections, than Mrs. Norris interrupted him with a reply to them all, whether stated or not.
"My dear Sir Thomas, I perfectly comprehend you, and do justice to the generosity and delicacy of your notions, which indeed are quite of a piece with your general conduct; and I entirely agree with you in the main as to the propriety of doing everything one could by way of providing for a child one had in a manner taken into one's own hands; and I am sure I should be the last person in the world to withhold my mite upon such an occasion. Having no children of my own, who should I look to in any little matter I may ever have to bestow, but the children of my sisters?-- and I am sure Mr. Norris is too just--but you know I am a woman of few words and professions. Do not let us be frightened from a good deed by a trifle. Give a girl an education, and introduce her properly into the world, and ten to one but she has the means of settling well, without farther expense to anybody. A niece of ours, Sir Thomas, I may say, or at least of_yours_, would not grow up in this neighbourhood without many advantages. I don't say she would be so handsome as her cousins. I dare say she would not; but she would be introduced into the society of this country under such very favourable circumstances as, in all human probability, would get her a creditable establishment. You are thinking of your sons-- but do not you know that, of all things upon earth, _that_ is the least likely to happen, brought up as they would be, always together like brothers and sisters? It is morally impossible. I never knew an instance of it. It is, in fact, the only sure way of providing against the connexion. Suppose her a pretty girl, and seen by Tom or Edmund for the first time seven years hence, and I dare say there would be mischief. The very idea of her having been suffered to grow up at a distance from us all in poverty and neglect, would be enough to make either of the dear, sweet-tempered boys in love with her. But breed her up with them from this time, and suppose her even to have the beauty of an angel, and she will never be more to either than a sister."
"There is a great deal of truth in what you say," replied Sir Thomas, "and far be it from me to throw any fanciful impediment in the way of a plan which would be so consistent with the relative situations of each. I only meant to observe that it ought not to be lightly engaged in, and that to make it really serviceable to Mrs. Price, and creditable to ourselves, we must secure to the child, or consider ourselves engaged to secure to her hereafter, as circumstances may arise, the provision of a gentlewoman, if no such establishment should offer as you are so sanguine in expecting."
"I thoroughly understand you," cried Mrs. Norris, "you are everything that is generous and considerate, and I am sure we shall never disagree on this point. Whatever I can do, as you well know, I am always ready enough to do for the good of those I love; and, though I could never feel for this little girl the hundredth part of the regard I bear your own dear children, nor consider her, in any respect, so much my own, I should hate myself if I were capable of neglecting her. Is not she a sister's child? and could I bear to see her want while I had a bit of bread to give her? My dear Sir Thomas, with all my faults I have a warm heart; and, poor as I am, would rather deny myself the necessaries of life than do an ungenerous thing. So, if you are not against it, I will write to my poor sister tomorrow, and make the proposal; and, as soon as matters are settled, _I_ will engage to get the child to Mansfield; _you_ shall have no trouble about it. My own trouble, you know, I never regard. I will send Nanny to London on purpose, and she may have a bed at her cousin the saddler's, and the child be appointed to meet her there. They may easily get her from Portsmouth to town by the coach, under the care of any creditable person that may chance to be going. I dare say there is always some reputable tradesman's wife or other going up."
Except to the attack on Nanny's cousin, Sir Thomas no longer made any objection, and a more respectable, though less economical rendezvous being accordingly substituted, everything was considered as settled, and the pleasures of so benevolent a scheme were already enjoyed. The division of gratifying sensations ought not, in strict justice, to have been equal; for Sir Thomas was fully resolved to be the real and consistent patron of the selected child, and Mrs. Norris had not the least intention of being at any expense whatever in her maintenance. As far as walking, talking, and contriving reached, she was thoroughly benevolent, and nobody knew better how to dictate liberality to others; but her love of money was equal to her love of directing, and she knew quite as well how to save her own as to spend that of her friends. Having married on a narrower income than she had been used to look forward to, she had, from the first, fancied a very strict line of economy necessary; and what was begun as a matter of prudence, soon grew into a matter of choice, as an object of that needful solicitude which there were no children to supply. Had there been a family to provide for, Mrs. Norris might never have saved her money; but having no care of that kind, there was nothing to impede her frugality, or lessen the comfort of making a yearly addition to an income which they had never lived up to. Under this infatuating principle, counteracted by no real affection for her sister, it was impossible for her to aim at more than the credit of projecting and arranging so expensive a charity; though perhaps she might so little know herself as to walk home to the Parsonage, after this conversation, in the happy belief of being the most liberal-minded sister and aunt in the world.
When the subject was brought forward again, her views were more fully explained; and, in reply to Lady Bertram's calm inquiry of "Where shall the child come to first, sister, to you or to us?" Sir Thomas heard with some surprise that it would be totally out of Mrs. Norris's power to take any share in the personal charge of her. He had been considering her as a particularly welcome addition at the Parsonage, as a desirable companion to an aunt who had no children of her own; but he found himself wholly mistaken. Mrs. Norris was sorry to say that the little girl's staying with them, at least as things then were, was quite out of the question. Poor Mr. Norris's indifferent state of health made it an impossibility: he could no more bear the noise of a child than he could fly; if, indeed, he should ever get well of his gouty complaints, it would be a different matter: she should then be glad to take her turn, and think nothing of the inconvenience; but just now, poor Mr. Norris took up every moment of her time, and the very mention of such a thing she was sure would distract him.
"Then she had better come to us," said Lady Bertram, with the utmost composure. After a short pause Sir Thomas added with dignity, "Yes, let her home be in this house. We will endeavour to do our duty by her, and she will, at least, have the advantage of companions of her own age, and of a regular instructress."
"Very true," cried Mrs. Norris, "which are both very important considerations; and it will be just the same to Miss Lee whether she has three girls to teach, or only two--there can be no difference. I only wish I could be more useful; but you see I do all in my power. I am not one of those that spare their own trouble; and Nanny shall fetch her, however it may put me to inconvenience to have my chief counsellor away for three days. I suppose, sister, you will put the child in the little white attic, near the old nurseries. It will be much the best place for her, so near Miss Lee, and not far from the girls, and close by the housemaids, who could either of them help to dress her, you know, and take care of her clothes, for I suppose you would not think it fair to expect Ellis to wait on her as well as the others. Indeed, I do not see that you could possibly place her anywhere else."
Lady Bertram made no opposition.
"I hope she will prove a well-disposed girl," continued Mrs. Norris, "and be sensible of her uncommon good fortune in having such friends."
"Should her disposition be really bad," said Sir Thomas, "we must not, for our own children's sake, continue her in the family; but there is no reason to expect so great an evil. We shall probably see much to wish altered in her, and must prepare ourselves for gross ignorance, some meanness of opinions, and very distressing vulgarity of manner; but these are not incurable faults; nor, I trust, can they be dangerous for her associates. Had my daughters been _younger_ than herself, I should have considered the introduction of such a companion as a matter of very serious moment; but, as it is, I hope there can be nothing to fear for _them_, and everything to hope for _her_, from the association."
"That is exactly what I think," cried Mrs. Norris, "and what I was saying to my husband this morning. It will be an education for the child, said I, only being with her cousins; if Miss Lee taught her nothing, she would learn to be good and clever from _them_."
"I hope she will not tease my poor pug," said Lady Bertram; "I have but just got Julia to leave it alone."
"There will be some difficulty in our way, Mrs. Norris," observed Sir Thomas, "as to the distinction proper to be made between the girls as they grow up: how to preserve in the minds of my _daughters_ the consciousness of what they are, without making them think too lowly of their cousin; and how, without depressing her spirits too far, to make her remember that she is not a _Miss Bertram_. I should wish to see them very good friends, and would, on no account, authorise in my girls the smallest degree of arrogance towards their relation; but still they cannot be equals. Their rank, fortune, rights, and expectations will always be different. It is a point of great delicacy, and you must assist us in our endeavours to choose exactly the right line of conduct."
Mrs. Norris was quite at his service; and though she perfectly agreed with him as to its being a most difficult thing, encouraged him to hope that between them it would be easily managed.
It will be readily believed that Mrs. Norris did not write to her sister in vain. Mrs. Price seemed rather surprised that a girl should be fixed on, when she had so many fine boys, but accepted the offer most thankfully, assuring them of her daughter's being a very well-disposed, good-humoured girl, and trusting they would never have cause to throw her off. She spoke of her farther as somewhat delicate and puny, but was sanguine in the hope of her being materially better for change of air. Poor woman! she probably thought change of air might agree with many of her children.
大约三十年前，亨廷登的玛丽亚·沃德小姐交了好运，仅凭七千英镑的陪嫁，就赢得了北安普敦郡曼斯菲尔德庄园托马斯·伯特伦爵士的倾心，一跃而成了准男爵夫人，既有漂亮的宅邸，又有大笔的进项，真是享不尽的荣华富贵。亨廷登的人无不惊叹这门亲事攀得好，连她那位当律师的舅舅都说，她名下至少再加三千英镑，才配嫁给这样的人家。她富贵起来，倒有两个姊妹好跟着沾光了。亲友中但凡觉得沃德小姐和弗朗西丝小姐①（译者注：①在这三姐妹中，玛丽亚·沃德为二小姐，婚后为伯特伦夫人；沃德小姐为大小姐，婚后为诺里斯太太；弗朗西丝（即弗朗西丝·沃德小姐）系三小姐，婚后为普莱斯太太。）长得像玛丽亚小姐一样漂亮的，都毫不犹豫地预言：她们两人也会嫁给同样高贵的人家。然而天下有钱的男人，肯定没有配嫁这种男人的漂亮女人来得那么多。沃德小姐蹉跎了五六年，最后只好许身于她妹夫的一位朋友，几乎没有什么财产的诺里斯牧师，而弗朗西丝小姐的情况还要糟糕。说实在的，沃德小姐的婚事还真算不得寒碜，托马斯爵士欣然地让他的朋友做曼斯菲尔德的牧师，给他提供了一份俸禄，因此诺里斯夫妇每年有差不多一千英镑的进项，过上了甜蜜的伉俪生活。可是弗朗西丝小姐的婚事，用句俗话来说，却没让家里人称心，她居然看上一个一没文化，二没家产，三没门第的海军陆战队中尉，真让家里人寒心透顶。她随便嫁个什么人，都比嫁给这个人强。托马斯·伯特伦爵士出于自尊心和为人之道，本着从善而为的愿望，加上总希望与他沾亲带故的人境况体面些，因此很愿意利用自己的情面为伯特伦夫人的妹妹帮帮忙。但是，在他妹夫所干的这个行当里，他却无人可托。还没等他想出别的法子来帮助他们，那姊妹俩已经彻底决裂了。这是双方行为的必然结果，但凡轻率的婚事几乎总会带来这种后果。为了免得听些无益的劝诫，普莱斯太太在结婚之前从未给家里人写信谈论此事。伯特伦夫人是个心境沉静的女人，性情异常随和、异常懒散，心想索性不再理睬妹妹，不再去想这件事算了。可诺里斯太太却是个多事之人，这时心犹未甘，便给范妮写了一封气势汹汹的长信，骂她行为愚蠢，并且威吓说这种行为可能招致种种恶果。普莱斯太太给惹火了，在回信中把两个姐姐都痛骂了一顿，并出言不逊地对托马斯爵士的虚荣也奚落了一番。诺里斯太太看了这些内容，自然不会闷在心里不说，于是他们两家与普莱斯太太家多年没再有任何交往。
他们的寓所彼此相距遥远，双方的活动圈子又大不相同，因而在以后的十一年里，他们甚至连对方是死是活几乎都无法知道，至少是托马斯爵士感到非常惊讶，诺里斯太太怎么能隔不多久就气冲冲地告诉他们一次：范妮又生了一个孩子。然而，十一年过后，普莱斯太太再也不能光顾自尊，怨恨不解，白白失去一门可能对她有所助益的亲戚。家里孩子一大帮，而且还在没完没了地生，丈夫落下了残疾，已不再能冲锋陷阵，却能照样以美酒招待宾朋，一家人吃的、穿的、用的，就靠那么一点微薄的收入。因此，她急切地想与过去轻率放弃的亲戚们恢复关系。她给伯特伦夫人写了一封信，言词凄凉，满纸悔恨，说家中除了儿女成群之外，其他东西几乎样样都缺，因此只能跟诸位亲戚重修旧好。她就要生第九胎了，在诉说了一番困境之后，就恳求他们给即将降生的孩子当教父、教母，帮助抚养这个孩子。然后她又不加掩饰地说，现有的八个孩子将来也要仰仗他们。老大是个十岁的男孩，既漂亮又活泼，一心想到海外去，可她有什么办法呢？托马斯爵士在西印度群岛上的产业将来有没有可能用得上他呢？叫他干什么都行——托马斯爵士觉得伍里奇陆军军官学校怎么样？还有，怎样把一个孩子送到东方去？
信没有白写。大家重归于好，又对她关心起来。托马斯爵士向她表示关切，替她出主意，伯特伦夫人给她寄钱和婴儿穿的衣服，诺里斯夫人则负责写信。
那封信当即产生了上述效果，过了不到一年，又给普莱斯太太带来一桩更大的好处。诺里斯太太常对别人说，她对她那可怜的妹妹和那帮孩子总是放心不下，虽说大家已为她们尽了不少力，她似乎觉得还想多帮点忙。后来她终于说出，她想让普莱斯太太少负担一个孩子，从那一大群孩子当中挑出一个，完全交给他们抚养。“她的大姑娘已经九岁了，她那可怜的妈妈不可能使她得到应有的关照，我们来照管她怎么样？这肯走会给我们带来些麻烦，增加些开销，但相比起行善来，这算不了什么。”伯特伦夫人当即表示赞同。“我看这样做再好不过了，”她说，“我们把那孩子叫来吧。”
托马斯爵士可没有这么痛痛快快地立即答应。他心里犹豫不决，踌躇不定。这件事可不是闹着玩的。在他们这样的家境里长大的姑娘，可得让她一辈子丰衣足食，不然的话，让她离开自家人，那不是行善，而是残酷。他想到了自己的四个孩子——想到了自己的两个儿子——想到了表兄妹之间会相爱等等。但他刚审言慎语地述说起自己的意见，诺里斯太太便打断了他，对他的理由，不管是说出的还是没说出的，都一一给以反驳。
“亲爱的托马斯爵士，我完全理解你的意思，也很赞赏你的想法，真是既慷慨又周全，完全符合你一贯的为人。总的说来，我完全同意你的看法，要是领养一个孩子，就得尽量把她抚养好。我敢说，在这件事情上，我决不会拒不竭尽我的微薄之力。我自己没有孩子，遇到我能帮点小忙的地方，我不帮助自己妹妹的孩子，还能帮助谁呢？我看诺里斯先生真是太——不过，你知道，我这个人话不多，不爱自我表白。我们不要因为一点小小的顾虑，就吓得不敢做好事了。让一个女孩受受教育，把她体面地引进社交界，十有八九她会有办法建立一个美满的家庭，用不着别人再来负担她。我敢说，托马斯爵士，我们的外甥女，至少是你的外甥女，在这个环境里长大肯定会有许多好处。我不是说她会出落得像两位表姐一样漂亮。我敢说她不会那么漂亮。不过，在这么有利的条件下，给引荐到这个地区的社交界，她完全有可能找到一个体面人家。你在顾虑你的两个儿子——可你难道不知道，他们会像兄妹一样在一起长大，而你顾虑的那种事决不会发生吗？从道德上来说，这是不可能的事情。我从没听说有这样的事。其实，这倒是预防他们之间结亲的唯一稳妥的办法。假使她是个漂亮姑娘，七年后让汤姆或埃德蒙第一次遇见，那说不定就麻烦了。一想到居然会让她住在那么远的地方，生活在贫困和无人疼爱的环境中，那两个天性敦厚的好孩子哪个都可能爱上她。可是，如果从现在起就让她跟他们生活在一起，哪怕她美如天仙，她对他们充其量不过是个妹妹而已。”
“你的话很有道理，”托马斯爵士答道，“我绝不是无端找些理由来阻挠一个非常适合双方境况的计划。我只是想说，不能轻率从事，而要把事情办得让普莱斯太太真正有所受益，我们自己也觉得问心无愧，一旦出现这样的情况，没有一个体面人家的子弟像你乐观估计的那样愿意娶她，我们就必须确保，或者认为我们有义务确保她过着一个有身份女人的生活。”
“我完全理解你，”诺里斯太太嚷道，“你真是慷慨大方，对人体贴入微，我想我们在这一点上决不会有什么分歧。你很清楚，只要对我爱的人有好处，凡是我办碍到的，我总是愿意尽力而为。虽然我对这孩子的感情达不到对你亲爱的孩子们的感情的百分之一，而且也绝没有像看待你的孩子们那样把她看做我自己的孩子，但是，我要是放手不去管她，我就会痛恨我自己。难道她不是我妹妹生的吗？只要我能给她一点面包吃，我怎么能忍心眼看着她挨饿呢？亲爱的托马斯爵士，我虽然有这样那样的缺点，但还有一副热心肠；我虽然家里穷，但宁肯自己省吃俭用，也不做那小气事。因此，如果你不反对，我明天就给我那可怜的妹妹写信，向她提出这个建议。等事情一谈妥，我就负责把那孩子接到曼斯菲尔德，你就不用操心啦。至于我自己操点心，你知道我是从不在乎的。我打发南妮①（译者注：①诺里斯太太家的女管家。）专程去一趟伦敦，她可以住在她堂哥的马具店里，叫那孩子去那儿找她。那孩子从朴次茅斯到伦敦并不难，只须把她送上驿车，托个信得过的同路人关照一下就行了。我想总会有个名声好的生意人的太太或别的什么人要到伦敦来。”
托马斯爵士没有发表什么反对意见，只是认为南妮的堂哥不是个可靠的人。因此，他们决定换一个较为体面，却不怎么省钱的迎接办法。就这样，一切算是安排妥当，大家已在为这大慈大悲的筹划而沾沾自喜了。严格说来，各人心满意足的程度是有所不同的，最后也就有了这样的区分：托马斯爵士完全打定了主意，要做这个挑选出来的孩子的真正而永久的抚养人，而诺里斯太太却丝毫不想为抚养孩子破费分文。就跑腿、卖嘴皮和出主意而言，她还真是大慈大悲，没人比她更会教别人大方。可是，她不光爱指挥别人，还同样爱钱；她懂得怎样花朋友的钱，也同样懂得怎样省自己的钱。她当初总盼望能找个有钱人家，不想嫁了个收入不怎么多的丈夫，因此，从一开始就觉得必须厉行节约。起初只是出于审慎的考虑，不久就成了自觉的行动，这都是为了满足一种需求，后来因为没有儿女，竞未曾出现这种需求。诺里斯太太若是有儿有女要抚养，可能就攒不下钱；但是，省了这份操心之后，她反倒可以无妨无碍地去攒钱，使那笔从未花完的收入年年有所增加，从中感受几分快慰。基于这种财迷心窍的原则，加上对妹妹没有真正的感情，她充其量只是给这么一笔费用不菲的善举出出主意，做做安排，再多她是决不会干的。不过她毫无自知之明，就在这次商谈之后，在回那牧师住宅的路上，她说不定还会沾沾自喜地认为自己是天下最宽厚的姐姐，最宽厚的姨妈。
等再次提起这件事时，她越发明确地表白了自己的观点。伯特伦夫人心平气和地问她：“姐姐，孩子来了先住哪里，你们家还是我们家？”诺里斯太太回答说，她丝毫没有能力跟着一起照料那孩子，伯特伦爵士听了颇为惊讶。他一直以为牧师住宅特别希望有个孩子，好给膝前没有儿女的姨妈做个伴，但他发现自己完全想错了。诺里斯太太抱歉地说，这个小姑娘要住她们家是根本不可能的，至少就当时的情形看是绝对不行的。可怜的诺里斯先生身体不好，因此不可能这样安排：他绝对不能忍受家里有个孩子吵吵闹闹。如果他的痛风病真能治好的话，那情况就不同了：她会高高兴兴地把孩子接到家，抚养一段时间，丝毫不在乎方便不方便。可是眼下，可怜的诺里斯先生无时无刻不要她照顾，一提这样的事，肯定会让他心烦意乱。
“那就让她来我们家吧，”伯特伦夫人极其坦然地说。过了一会，伯特伦爵士一本正经地说道：“好的，就让她以这座房子为家吧。我们将尽力履行我们对她的义务。她在这里至少有两个有利条件：一是可以跟她同年纪的孩子做伴；二是有个正规的教师教她。”
“一点不错，”诺里斯太太嚷道。“这两条都很重要。再说李小姐教三个姑娘和教两个都一样——不会有多大差别。我真巴不得能多帮点忙，不过你知道我也是尽了最大力量了。我可不是个怕麻烦图省事的人。我会让南妮去接她的，尽管我这位女管家一去就得三天，会给我带来不便。我想，妹妹，你可以把那孩子安置在靠近原来育儿室的那间白色的小阁楼里。那对她来说是个最好不过的地方，离李小姐那么近，离两个姑娘也不远，还靠近两个女仆，她们随便哪个都可以帮助她梳妆打扮，照料她的穿戴。我想你不会让埃丽丝除了伺候两个姑娘，还去伺候她吧。说真的，我看你不可能把她安置在别的地方。”
伯特伦夫人没有表示反对。
“我希望这姑娘性子好一些，”诺里斯太太接着说，“能为有这样的亲友而感到万分幸运。”
“要是她的性情实在不好的话，”托马斯爵士说道，“为我们自己的孩子着想，我们就不能让她继续住在家里。不过我们没有理由料定会有这么严重的问题。也许她身上会有不少东西我们希望她改掉，我们必须事先想到她什么都不懂，有些狭隘的想法，举止粗俗得让人受不了，不过，这些缺点都不是不可克服的——而且我想，对她的玩伴来说也不会有什么危险。假如我女儿比她还小，我就会觉得让她来和我们的孩子生活在一起，可是一件非同小可的事情。可实际上，让她们三个在一起，我想对她们俩来说没什么好担心的，对她来说只会有好处。”
“我就是这么想的，”诺里斯太太嚷道，“今天早上我对我丈夫就是这么说的。我说，只要和两个表姐在一起，那孩子就会受到教育；就是李小姐什么都不教她，她也能跟表姐学好，学聪明。”
“我希望她不会去逗我那可怜的哈巴狗。”伯特伦夫人说，“我才说服了朱莉娅不去逗它。”
“诺里斯太太，”托马斯爵士说道，“随着三个姑娘一天天长大，怎样在她们之间画个适当的界线，我们还会遇到些困难：怎样使我的两个女儿既能始终意识到自己的身份，又不至于过分看不起自己的表妹；怎样能让表妹记住她不是伯特伦家的小姐，而又不使她情绪太低沉。我希望她们成为很好的朋友，决不允许我女儿对自己的亲戚有半点傲气。不过，她们还不能完全是同等人。她们的身份、财产、权利和前程，永远是不同的。这是一个非常棘手的问题，你得帮助我们尽力选择一个不偏不倚的正确处理方式。”
诺里斯太太很乐意为他效力。尽管她完全同意他的看法，认为这是件十分棘手的事，但她还是让他觉得这件事由他们俩操办，不会有多大的困难。
诸位不难料想，诺里斯太太给妹妹的信没有白写。普莱斯太太似乎甚为惊讶，她明明有那么多漂亮男孩，他们却偏偏选中一个女孩。不过，她还是千恩万谢地接受了这番好意，向他们担保说：她女儿性情、脾气都很好，相信他们决没有理由不要她。接着，她又说这孩子有点单薄瘦小，但却乐观地认为，只要换个环境，孩子会大大改观。可怜的女人啊！她大概觉得她的好多孩子都该换换环境吧。
[ 此帖被narcis在2013-10-27 00:53重新编辑 ] -
Chapter Two
The little girl performed her long journey in safety; and at Northampton was met by Mrs. Norris, who thus regaled in the credit of being foremost to welcome her, and in the importance of leading her in to the others, and recommending her to their kindness.
Fanny Price was at this time just ten years old, and though there might not be much in her first appearance to captivate, there was, at least, nothing to disgust her relations. She was small of her age, with no glow of complexion, nor any other striking beauty; exceedingly timid and shy, and shrinking from notice; but her air, though awkward, was not vulgar, her voice was sweet, and when she spoke her countenance was pretty. Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram received her very kindly; and Sir Thomas, seeing how much she needed encouragement, tried to be all that was conciliating: but he had to work against a most untoward gravity of deportment; and Lady Bertram, without taking half so much trouble, or speaking one word where he spoke ten, by the mere aid of a good-humoured smile, became immediately the less awful character of the two.
The young people were all at home, and sustained their share in the introduction very well, with much good humour, and no embarrassment, at least on the part of the sons, who, at seventeen and sixteen, and tall of their age, had all the grandeur of men in the eyes of their little cousin. The two girls were more at a loss from being younger and in greater awe of their father, who addressed them on the occasion with rather an injudicious particularity. But they were too much used to company and praise to have anything like natural shyness; and their confidence increasing from their cousin's total want of it, they were soon able to take a full survey of her face and her frock in easy indifference.
They were a remarkably fine family, the sons very well-looking, the daughters decidedly handsome, and all of them well-grown and forward of their age, which produced as striking a difference between the cousins in person, as education had given to their address; and no one would have supposed the girls so nearly of an age as they really were. There were in fact but two years between the youngest and Fanny. Julia Bertram was only twelve, and Maria but a year older. The little visitor meanwhile was as unhappy as possible. Afraid of everybody, ashamed of herself, and longing for the home she had left, she knew not how to look up, and could scarcely speak to be heard, or without crying. Mrs. Norris had been talking to her the whole way from Northampton of her wonderful good fortune, and the extraordinary degree of gratitude and good behaviour which it ought to produce, and her consciousness of misery was therefore increased by the idea of its being a wicked thing for her not to be happy. The fatigue, too, of so long a journey, became soon no trifling evil. In vain were the well-meant condescensions of Sir Thomas, and all the officious prognostications of Mrs. Norris that she would be a good girl; in vain did Lady Bertram smile and make her sit on the sofa with herself and pug, and vain was even the sight of a gooseberry tart towards giving her comfort; she could scarcely swallow two mouthfuls before tears interrupted her, and sleep seeming to be her likeliest friend, she was taken to finish her sorrows in bed.
"This is not a very promising beginning," said Mrs. Norris, when Fanny had left the room. "After all that I said to her as we came along, I thought she would have behaved better; I told her how much might depend upon her acquitting herself well at first. I wish there may not be a little sulkiness of temper--her poor mother had a good deal; but we must make allowances for such a child--and I do not know that her being sorry to leave her home is really against her, for, with all its faults, it _was_ her home, and she cannot as yet understand how much she has changed for the better; but then there is moderation in all things."
It required a longer time, however, than Mrs. Norris was inclined to allow, to reconcile Fanny to the novelty of Mansfield Park, and the separation from everybody she had been used to. Her feelings were very acute, and too little understood to be properly attended to. Nobody meant to be unkind, but nobody put themselves out of their way to secure her comfort.
The holiday allowed to the Miss Bertrams the next day, on purpose to afford leisure for getting acquainted with, and entertaining their young cousin, produced little union. They could not but hold her cheap on finding that she had but two sashes, and had never learned French; and when they perceived her to be little struck with the duet they were so good as to play, they could do no more than make her a generous present of some of their least valued toys, and leave her to herself, while they adjourned to whatever might be the favourite holiday sport of the moment, making artificial flowers or wasting gold paper.
Fanny, whether near or from her cousins, whether in the schoolroom, the drawing-room, or the shrubbery, was equally forlorn, finding something to fear in every person and place. She was disheartened by Lady Bertram's silence, awed by Sir Thomas's grave looks, and quite overcome by Mrs. Norris's admonitions. Her elder cousins mortified her by reflections on her size, and abashed her by noticing her shyness: Miss Lee wondered at her ignorance, and the maid-servants sneered at her clothes; and when to these sorrows was added the idea of the brothers and sisters among whom she had always been important as playfellow, instructress, and nurse, the despondence that sunk her little heart was severe.
The grandeur of the house astonished, but could not console her. The rooms were too large for her to move in with ease: whatever she touched she expected to injure, and she crept about in constant terror of something or other; often retreating towards her own chamber to cry; and the little girl who was spoken of in the drawing-room when she left it at night as seeming so desirably sensible of her peculiar good fortune, ended every day's sorrows by sobbing herself to sleep. A week had passed in this way, and no suspicion of it conveyed by her quiet passive manner, when she was found one morning by her cousin Edmund, the youngest of the sons, sitting crying on the attic stairs.
"My dear little cousin," said he, with all the gentleness of an excellent nature, "what can be the matter?" And sitting down by her, he was at great pains to overcome her shame in being so surprised, and persuade her to speak openly. "Was she ill? or was anybody angry with her? or had she quarrelled with Maria and Julia? or was she puzzled about anything in her lesson that he could explain? Did she, in short, want anything he could possibly get her, or do for her? For a long while no answer could be obtained beyond a "no, no--not at all--no, thank you"; but he still persevered; and no sooner had he begun to revert to her own home, than her increased sobs explained to him where the grievance lay. He tried to console her.
"You are sorry to leave Mama, my dear little Fanny," said he, "which shows you to be a very good girl; but you must remember that you are with relations and friends, who all love you, and wish to make you happy. Let us walk out in the park, and you shall tell me all about your brothers and sisters."
On pursuing the subject, he found that, dear as all these brothers and sisters generally were, there was one among them who ran more in her thoughts than the rest. It was William whom she talked of most, and wanted most to see. William, the eldest, a year older than herself, her constant companion and friend; her advocate with her mother (of whom he was the darling) in every distress. "William did not like she should come away; he had told her he should miss her very much indeed." "But William will write to you, I dare say." "Yes, he had promised he would, but he had told _her_ to write first." "And when shall you do it?" She hung her head and answered hesitatingly, "she did not know; she had not any paper."
"If that be all your difficulty, I will furnish you with paper and every other material, and you may write your letter whenever you choose. Would it make you happy to write to William?"
"Yes, very."
"Then let it be done now. Come with me into the breakfast-room, we shall find everything there, and be sure of having the room to ourselves."
"But, cousin, will it go to the post?"
"Yes, depend upon me it shall: it shall go with the other letters; and, as your uncle will frank it, it will cost William nothing."
"My uncle!" repeated Fanny, with a frightened look.
"Yes, when you have written the letter, I will take it to my father to frank."
Fanny thought it a bold measure, but offered no further resistance; and they went together into the breakfast-room, where Edmund prepared her paper, and ruled her lines with all the goodwill that her brother could himself have felt, and probably with somewhat more exactness. He continued with her the whole time of her writing, to assist her with his penknife or his orthography, as either were wanted; and added to these attentions, which she felt very much, a kindness to her brother which delighted her beyond all the rest. He wrote with his own hand his love to his cousin William, and sent him half a guinea under the seal. Fanny's feelings on the occasion were such as she believed herself incapable of expressing; but her countenance and a few artless words fully conveyed all their gratitude and delight, and her cousin began to find her an interesting object. He talked to her more, and, from all that she said, was convinced of her having an affectionate heart, and a strong desire of doing right; and he could perceive her to be farther entitled to attention by great sensibility of her situation, and great timidity. He had never knowingly given her pain, but he now felt that she required more positive kindness; and with that view endeavoured, in the first place, to lessen her fears of them all, and gave her especially a great deal of good advice as to playing with Maria and Julia, and being as merry as possible.
From this day Fanny grew more comfortable. She felt that she had a friend, and the kindness of her cousin Edmund gave her better spirits with everybody else. The place became less strange, and the people less formidable; and if there were some amongst them whom she could not cease to fear, she began at least to know their ways, and to catch the best manner of conforming to them. The little rusticities and awkwardnesses which had at first made grievous inroads on the tranquillity of all, and not least of herself, necessarily wore away, and she was no longer materially afraid to appear before her uncle, nor did her aunt Norris's voice make her start very much. To her cousins she became occasionally an acceptable companion. Though unworthy, from inferiority of age and strength, to be their constant associate, their pleasures and schemes were sometimes of a nature to make a third very useful, especially when that third was of an obliging, yielding temper; and they could not but own, when their aunt inquired into her faults, or their brother Edmund urged her claims to their kindness, that "Fanny was good-natured enough."
Edmund was uniformly kind himself; and she had nothing worse to endure on the part of Tom than that sort of merriment which a young man of seventeen will always think fair with a child of ten. He was just entering into life, full of spirits, and with all the liberal dispositions of an eldest son, who feels born only for expense and enjoyment. His kindness to his little cousin was consistent with his situation and rights: he made her some very pretty presents, and laughed at her.
As her appearance and spirits improved, Sir Thomas and Mrs. Norris thought with greater satisfaction of their benevolent plan; and it was pretty soon decided between them that, though far from clever, she showed a tractable disposition, and seemed likely to give them little trouble. A mean opinion of her abilities was not confined to _them_. Fanny could read, work, and write, but she had been taught nothing more; and as her cousins found her ignorant of many things with which they had been long familiar, they thought her prodigiously stupid, and for the first two or three weeks were continually bringing some fresh report of it into the drawing-room. "Dear mama, only think, my cousin cannot put the map of Europe together-- or my cousin cannot tell the principal rivers in Russia-- or, she never heard of Asia Minor--or she does not know the difference between water-colours and crayons!-- How strange!--Did you ever hear anything so stupid?"
"My dear," their considerate aunt would reply, "it is very bad, but you must not expect everybody to be as forward and quick at learning as yourself."
"But, aunt, she is really so very ignorant!--Do you know, we asked her last night which way she would go to get to Ireland; and she said, she should cross to the Isle of Wight. She thinks of nothing but the Isle of Wight, and she calls it _the_ _Island_, as if there were no other island in the world. I am sure I should have been ashamed of myself, if I had not known better long before I was so old as she is. I cannot remember the time when I did not know a great deal that she has not the least notion of yet. How long ago it is, aunt, since we used to repeat the chronological order of the kings of England, with the dates of their accession, and most of the principal events of their reigns!"
"Yes," added the other; "and of the Roman emperors as low as Severus; besides a great deal of the heathen mythology, and all the metals, semi-metals, planets, and distinguished philosophers."
"Very true indeed, my dears, but you are blessed with wonderful memories, and your poor cousin has probably none at all. There is a vast deal of difference in memories, as well as in everything else, and therefore you must make allowance for your cousin, and pity her deficiency. And remember that, if you are ever so forward and clever yourselves, you should always be modest; for, much as you know already, there is a great deal more for you to learn."
"Yes, I know there is, till I am seventeen. But I must tell you another thing of Fanny, so odd and so stupid. Do you know, she says she does not want to learn either music or drawing."
"To be sure, my dear, that is very stupid indeed, and shows a great want of genius and emulation. But, all things considered, I do not know whether it is not as well that it should be so, for, though you know (owing to me) your papa and mama are so good as to bring her up with you, it is not at all necessary that she should be as accomplished as you are;--on the contrary, it is much more desirable that there should be a difference."
Such were the counsels by which Mrs. Norris assisted to form her nieces' minds; and it is not very wonderful that, with all their promising talents and early information, they should be entirely deficient in the less common acquirements of self-knowledge, generosity and humility. In everything but disposition they were admirably taught. Sir Thomas did not know what was wanting, because, though a truly anxious father, he was not outwardly affectionate, and the reserve of his manner repressed all the flow of their spirits before him.
To the education of her daughters Lady Bertram paid not the smallest attention. She had not time for such cares. She was a woman who spent her days in sitting, nicely dressed, on a sofa, doing some long piece of needlework, of little use and no beauty, thinking more of her pug than her children, but very indulgent to the latter when it did not put herself to inconvenience, guided in everything important by Sir Thomas, and in smaller concerns by her sister. Had she possessed greater leisure for the service of her girls, she would probably have supposed it unnecessary, for they were under the care of a governess, with proper masters, and could want nothing more. As for Fanny's being stupid at learning, "she could only say it was very unlucky, but some people _were_ stupid, and Fanny must take more pains: she did not know what else was to be done; and, except her being so dull, she must add she saw no harm in the poor little thing, and always found her very handy and quick in carrying messages, and fetching, what she wanted."
Fanny, with all her faults of ignorance and timidity, was fixed at Mansfield Park, and learning to transfer in its favour much of her attachment to her former home, grew up there not unhappily among her cousins. There was no positive ill-nature in Maria or Julia; and though Fanny was often mortified by their treatment of her, she thought too lowly of her own claims to feel injured by it.
From about the time of her entering the family, Lady Bertram, in consequence of a little ill-health, and a great deal of indolence, gave up the house in town, which she had been used to occupy every spring, and remained wholly in the country, leaving Sir Thomas to attend his duty in Parliament, with whatever increase or diminution of comfort might arise from her absence. In the country, therefore, the Miss Bertrams continued to exercise their memories, practise their duets, and grow tall and womanly: and their father saw them becoming in person, manner, and accomplishments, everything that could satisfy his anxiety. His eldest son was careless and extravagant, and had already given him much uneasiness; but his other children promised him nothing but good. His daughters, he felt, while they retained the name of Bertram, must be giving it new grace, and in quitting it, he trusted, would extend its respectable alliances; and the character of Edmund, his strong good sense and uprightness of mind, bid most fairly for utility, honour, and happiness to himself and all his connexions. He was to be a clergyman.
Amid the cares and the complacency which his own children suggested, Sir Thomas did not forget to do what he could for the children of Mrs. Price: he assisted her liberally in the education and disposal of her sons as they became old enough for a determinate pursuit; and Fanny, though almost totally separated from her family, was sensible of the truest satisfaction in hearing of any kindness towards them, or of anything at all promising in their situation or conduct. Once, and once only, in the course of many years, had she the happiness of being with William. Of the rest she saw nothing: nobody seemed to think of her ever going amongst them again, even for a visit, nobody at home seemed to want her; but William determining, soon after her removal, to be a sailor, was invited to spend a week with his sister in Northamptonshire before he went to sea. Their eager affection in meeting, their exquisite delight in being together, their hours of happy mirth, and moments of serious conference, may be imagined; as well as the sanguine views and spirits of the boy even to the last, and the misery of the girl when he left her. Luckily the visit happened in the Christmas holidays, when she could directly look for comfort to her cousin Edmund; and he told her such charming things of what William was to do, and be hereafter, in consequence of his profession, as made her gradually admit that the separation might have some use. Edmund's friendship never failed her: his leaving Eton for Oxford made no change in his kind dispositions, and only afforded more frequent opportunities of proving them. Without any display of doing more than the rest, or any fear of doing too much, he was always true to her interests, and considerate of her feelings, trying to make her good qualities understood, and to conquer the diffidence which prevented their being more apparent; giving her advice, consolation, and encouragement.
Kept back as she was by everybody else, his single support could not bring her forward; but his attentions were otherwise of the highest importance in assisting the improvement of her mind, and extending its pleasures. He knew her to be clever, to have a quick apprehension as well as good sense, and a fondness for reading, which, properly directed, must be an education in itself. Miss Lee taught her French, and heard her read the daily portion of history; but he recommended the books which charmed her leisure hours, he encouraged her taste, and corrected her judgment: he made reading useful by talking to her of what she read, and heightened its attraction by judicious praise. In return for such services she loved him better than anybody in the world except William: her heart was divided between the two.
小姑娘一路平安地完成了长途旅行，到了北安普敦受到诺里斯太太的迎接。这位太太觉得自己既有最先来欢迎她的功劳，又有领着她去见众人，让众人关照她的脸面，心里不禁乐滋滋的。
范妮·普莱斯这时才刚刚十岁，初来乍到虽然看不出多少媚人之处，但至少没有什么地方令亲戚们生厌。她人比实际年龄长得小了些，脸上没有光泽，也没有其他引入注目的丽质；极其胆怯羞涩，不愿引人注意；不过，她的仪态虽说有些笨拙，却并不粗俗，声音还挺动听，一说起话来，小脸还挺好看。托马斯爵士夫妇非常热情地接待了她。托马斯爵士见她需要鼓励，便尽量和和气气的，不过他生就一副不苟言笑的样子，要做到这一点并不容易——而伯特伦夫人用不着费他那一半的力气，用不着说他十分之一的话，只要和颜悦色地笑一笑，便马上能让那孩子觉得她没有托马斯爵士那么可畏。
几个孩子都在家，见面的时候始终表现得十分得体，一个个高高兴兴，毫不拘谨，至少两个男孩是这样，他们一个十七，一个十六，个子比一般同龄的人要高，在小表妹的眼里，都俨然已是大人了。两个姑娘由于年纪小，加上当时父亲对她们过于严厉，心里难免有些畏怯，因而不像两个哥哥那样泰然自若。不过，她们常和客人应酬，也听惯了表扬，已不可能再有那种天生的羞怯。眼见表妹毫无自信，她们反倒越来越有信心，很快就能从容地、若无其事地把她的面庞和上衣仔细打量了一番。
这是令人极其欣羡的一家人，两个儿子非常英俊，两个女儿也十分漂亮，四个人个个发育良好，比实际年龄要早熟一些。如果说所受教育使他们与表妹在谈吐上形成了显著差别的话，以上特征则使他们与表妹在外观上形成了显著的差别。谁也猜想不到，表姐表妹之间年龄相距如此之近。实际上，二表姐比范妮只不过大两岁。朱莉娅·伯特伦才十二岁，玛丽亚仅仅年长她一岁。小客人这时候要多难受有多难受。她人人都怕，自惭形秽，怀念自己刚刚离开的家，她不敢抬头看人，不敢大声说话，一说话就要流眼泪。从北安普敦到曼斯菲尔德的路上，诺里斯太太一直在开导她，说她真是鸿运高照，她应该万分感激，好好表现才是。于是，那孩子便觉得自己不快活乃是以怨报德的行径，不由得心里越发悲伤。漫长旅途的劳顿也很快成了非同小可的弊端。托马斯爵士屈尊地好心关怀她，无济于事；诺里斯太太苦心孤诣地一再预言她会做个乖孩子，也无济于事；伯特伦夫人笑容可掬，让她跟自己和哈巴狗一起坐在沙发上，还是无济于事；就连看到草莓馅饼，也仍然没能让她开心。她还没吃两口，就泪汪汪地再也吃不下去了，这时睡眠似乎成了她最需要的朋友，于是她给送到床上去排解忧伤。
“一开始就这样，可不是个好苗头啊，”范妮走出屋之后，诺里斯太太说道。“我一路上跟她说了那么多，满以为她会表现得好一些。我跟她说过，一开始就表现好有多重要。我但愿她不要有小脾气——她那可怜的妈妈脾气可不小啊。不过，我们要体谅这样的孩子——依我看，这孩子因为离开家而伤心也没有什么不好的，她的家虽然不怎么样，但总还是她的家呀，她现在还闹不清楚她的境况比在家时好了多少。不过，以后一切都会有所好转的。”
然而，范妮适应曼斯菲尔德庄园的新奇环境，适应与所有亲友的分离，用的时间比诺里斯太太预想的要长。她的情绪太低沉了，别人无法理解，因而也难以好生关照。谁也不想亏待她，可是谁也不想特意去安慰她。
第二天，伯特伦家给两位小姐放了假，好给她们闲暇跟小表妹相熟，陪她玩耍，可结果并不怎么融洽。两人发现她只有两条彩带，而且从来没有学过法语，不禁有些瞧不起她。她们把拿手的二重奏表演给她听，见她没有什么反应，便只好把自己最不想要的玩具慨然送给了她，由她自己玩去，而她们却去玩当时最时兴的假日游戏：做假花，或者说糟蹋金纸。
范妮不管是在表姐身旁还是不在表姐身旁，不管是在课堂、客厅还是在灌木林，都同样孤苦伶仃，见到什么人、什么地方，都觉得有点惧怕。伯特伦夫人的沉默不语使她气馁，托马斯爵士的正颜厉色使她敬畏，诺里斯太太的谆谆告诫使她惶恐。两个表姐议论她的身材使她觉得羞愧，说她羞羞答答使她为之窘迫。李小姐奇怪她怎么什么都不知道，女仆讥笑她衣服寒酸。面对着这些伤心事，再联想到以前和兄弟妹妹们在一起的时候，她作为玩伴、老师和保姆，总是被大家所看重，她那小小的心灵便越发感到沮丧。
房屋的富丽堂皇使她为之惊愕，但却不能给她带来安慰。一个个房间都太大，她待在里面有些紧张，每碰到一样东西，都觉得会碰坏似的，走动起来蹑手蹑脚，总是生怕出点什么事，常常回到自己房里去哭泣。这小姑娘夜晚离开客厅时，大家就说她好像正如大家希望的那样，认识到自己交了好运，岂料她是啜泣着进入梦乡，以此来结束自己一天的悲哀。一个星期就这样过去了，从她那文静随顺的仪态中，谁也看不出她在伤心。然而，有一天早晨，她的二表哥埃德蒙发现她坐在阁楼的楼梯上哭泣。
“亲爱的小表妹，”他出于善良的天性，温存备至地说，“你怎么啦？”说着在她身边坐下，煞费苦心地安慰她，让她不要因为被人发现哭鼻子而感到难为情，还劝她痛痛快快地把心里话都说出来。“你是否生病了？有人对你发火了吗？跟玛丽亚、朱莉娅吵嘴了吗？功课中有没有什么搞不懂，我可以为你解释的？总而言之，你是否需要什么东西我可以帮你弄来，是否有什么事我可以帮你办？”问了许久，得到的答复只是：“没，没——绝对没有——没，谢谢你。”可是表哥依然问个不停，他刚一提到她原先的家，表妹越发泣不成声了，于是他明白了她伤心的缘由，便尽量安慰她。
“亲爱的小范妮，你离开妈妈感到难过，”他说道，“这说明你是个好孩子。不过，你要记住，你和亲戚朋友们在一起，他们都爱你，都想使你快活。我们到庭园里散散步吧，把你兄弟妹妹们的情况讲给我听听。”
经过追问，他发现表妹虽说跟她所有的兄弟妹妹都很亲密，但其中有一个最让她思念。她谈得最多、最想见到的是威廉。威廉是家中最大的孩子，比她大一岁，是她形影不离的伙伴和朋友。他还是妈妈的宠儿，她每逢闯了什么祸，他总是护着她，“威廉不愿让我离开家——他跟我说他真的会非常想我。”“不过，我想威廉会给你写信的。”“是的，他答应过给我写信，不过他叫我先写。”“那你什么时候写呢？”表妹低下头来，迟迟疑疑地说：“我也不知道。我没有信纸。”
“如果你就是为这犯难，我来给你提供纸什么的好啦，你想什么时候写就什么时候写吧。给威廉写信能使你快乐吗？”
“是的，非常快乐。”
“那就说写就写吧。跟我到早餐厅去，那里笔墨纸张什么都有，而且肯定不会有什么人。”
“不过，表哥，能送到邮局吗？”
“是的，肯定能，和别的信一起送到。你姨父盖上免费邮递的戳记，威廉就不用再交费了。”
“我姨父！”范妮满面惶恐地重复了一声。
“是呀，你把信写好了，我拿到我父亲那里盖免费戳。”
范妮觉得这样做有点冒昧，不过并没表示反对。于是，两人来到了早餐室，埃德蒙给她备好了纸，打上了横格，那副热心肠并不亚于她哥哥，而那一丝不苟的劲头或许还要胜过她哥哥。表妹写信的时候，他一直守在旁边，要削笔时就帮她削笔，遇到不会拼写的字就教她如何拼写。这些关照已经让表妹颇为感动了，而他对她哥哥的一番好意，使她越发高兴得不得了。他亲笔附言向威廉表弟问好，并随信寄给他半个几尼。范妮当时心情激动得无以言表。不过，她的神情和几句质朴无华的言语充分表达了她的喜幸和感激之情，表哥从而看出她是个讨人喜欢的姑娘。表哥跟她又谈了谈，从她的话里可以断定，她有一颗温柔亲切的心，想要表现得体的强烈愿望。他发觉她对自己的处境非常敏感，总是非常羞怯，因而更应得到大家的关照。他从来不曾有意地惹她痛苦过，但他现在意识到她需要的是更多的正面爱护，因此便首先设法减少她对众人的惧怕，特别是不厌其烦地劝她跟玛丽亚和朱莉娅一起玩，尽可能地快活起来。
从这天起，范妮就感到比较自在了。她觉得自己有了一个朋友，表哥埃德蒙对她那么关心，她跟别人在一起时心情也好起来了。这地方不再那么陌生了，这里的人们也不再那么可怕了。即便有些人还没法让她不害怕，她至少开始了解他们的脾性，知道如何顺应他们。她起初惹得众人忐忑不安、特别是惹得自己忐忑不安的那些小小的无知、笨拙之处，都自然而然地消失了，她已不再非常怕见二姨父，听到大姨妈的声音也不再胆战心惊。两个表姐有时也愿意和她一起玩了。虽然由于年幼体弱的缘故，她还不能跟她们形影相伴，但她们玩的娱乐游戏有时必须有个第三者参加，尤其需要一个和和气气、百依百顺的第三者。当大姨妈查问她有什么缺点，或二哥埃德蒙要她们好好照顾她的时候，她们不得不承认：“范妮倒是个好性子。”
埃德蒙总是待她很好，汤姆也没给她气受，大不了拿她逗逗趣儿，而一个十七岁青年对一个十岁孩子做这样的事，总觉得不为过的。他刚刚踏入社会，生气勃勃，具有长子常有的那种洒脱大度，以为自己生来就是为了花钱和享受的。他对小表妹的关切倒也符合他的身份和权利，一边给她送些漂亮的小礼物，一边又取笑她。
随着范妮情绪好转，眉开颜展，托马斯爵士和诺里斯太太对自己的慈善计划越发感到得意。两人很快得出一致看法：这孩子虽然谈不上聪明，但是性情温顺，看来不会给他们增添多少麻烦。而觉得她天资愚钝的还不只是他们俩。范妮能读书、做活、写字，但别的事就没有教给她。两个表姐发现，有许多东西她们早就熟悉了，范妮却一无所知，觉得她真是愚不可及，头两三个星期，她们不停地把这方面的新发现带到客厅里去汇报。“亲爱的妈妈，你想想看，表妹连欧洲地图都拼不到一起——她说不出来俄国有哪些主要河流——她从没听说过小亚细亚——她分不清蜡笔画和水彩画！多奇怪呀！你听说过有这么蠢的吗？”
“亲爱的，”能体谅人的大姨妈会说，“这是很糟糕的，不过你们不能指望人人都像你们那样早懂事，那样聪明呀。”
“可是，姨妈，她真是什么都不懂呀！你知道吗，昨天晚上我们问她，她要是去爱尔兰，愿意走哪条路。她说，她渡海到怀特岛。她心里只有一个怀特岛，把它称做 ‘岛子’，好像世界上再没有别的岛子似的。我敢说，我远远没有她这么大的时候就比她知道得多，不然我会觉得害臊。我不记得从什么时候起，她现在还一无所知的东西，我已经知道许许多多了。姨妈，我们按照先后次序背诵英国国王的名字，他们登基的日期，以及他们在位期间发生的主要事件，那是多久以前的事情啊！”
“是呀，”另一个姑娘接着说，“还背诵古罗马皇帝的名字，一直背到塞维鲁①。（译者注：①塞维鲁(146-211)，古罗马皇帝(193-211)。）此外，还记了许多异教的神话故事，还会背诵所有的金属名称、半金属名称、行星的名字以及杰出哲学家的名字。”
“千真万确呀，亲爱的，不过你们有极好的记忆力，你们可怜的表妹可能什么都记不住。记忆力也像其他各种事情一样，人与人之间的差别可大了，因此你们应该体谅你们的表妹，对她的缺陷要包涵。你们要记住，就算你们懂事早，又那么聪明，你们还得始终注意谦虚。你们尽管已经懂得许多事情，还有许多事情需要学习。”
“是的，我知道在我长到十七岁以前还有许多事情要学习。不过我还得告诉你一件有关范妮的事，那么奇怪，那么愚蠢。你知道吗，她说她既不想学音乐，也不想学绘画。”
“毫无疑问，亲爱的，这确实很愚蠢，表明她太没有天赋，太缺乏上进心。不过全面考虑起来，我看她不学也好。虽说你们知道你们的爸爸妈妈是按照我的主意收养了她，但完全没有必要让她和你们一样多才多艺。相反．倒是应该有些差别。”
诺里斯太太就是这样来教育两个外甥女的。尽管她们天禀聪颖，小小年纪就懂得很多事情，但在诸如自知之明、宽宏大量、谦恭等不怎么寻常的资质方面，却十分欠缺，也就算不得十分奇怪了。她们在各方面都受到了上好的教育，唯独心性气质方面例外。托马斯爵士也不清楚她们缺少什么，虽说他热切地盼望她们样样都好，但表面上并不显得亲热，正是在他拘谨举止的压抑下，她们在他面前压根儿活跃不起来。
对于两个女儿的教育，伯特伦夫人更是不闻不问。她没有工夫关心这些事情。她整天穿得整整齐齐地坐在沙发上，做些冗长的针线活，既没用处又不漂亮，对孩子还没有对哈巴狗关心，只要不给她带来不便，她就由着她们，大事听托马斯爵士的，小事听她姐姐的。即使她有更多的闲暇关照两个姑娘，她也会认为没有这个必要。她们有保姆照管，还有正规的老师教授，用不着别人再去操心了。谈到范妮学习愚笨：“我只能说这真是不幸，不过有些人就是笨拙，范妮必须多下苦功，我不知道还有什么别的办法。我还要补充一句：这可怜的小东西除了笨拙之外，我看倒没有什么不好的——我发现，叫她送个信、取个东西什么的，她总是非常灵便，非常麻利。”
范妮尽管存在愚昧、胆怯等缺陷，还是在曼斯菲尔德庄园住下来了，渐渐把对老家的依恋之情转向了这里，和两个表姐一起长大成人，日子过得还不算不快活。玛丽亚和朱莉娅并非真有什么坏心眼，虽说她们经常搞得她没面子，但她觉得自己不配有过高的要求，因而并不觉得伤心。
本来，伯特伦夫人每到春天就要到伦敦的宅邸里去住上一阵。大约从范妮到来的时候起，她由于身体有点欠佳，加上入过于懒惰，便放弃了城里的那座宅邸，完全住到了乡下，让托马斯爵士一个人履行他在议会的职责，在她不在身边的情况下，爵士究竟过得好些还是差些，她就不管了。于是，两位伯特伦小姐继续在乡下学习功课，练习二重唱，长大成人。她们的父亲眼看着她们出落得姿容秀美，举止得体，多才多艺，样样都令他称心如意。他的大儿子是个无所用心、挥霍无度的人，使他甚为忧虑，不过其他三个孩子看来还是挺有出息的。他觉得，他的两个女儿出嫁前势必给伯特伦家增添光彩，出嫁时必定会给伯特伦家赢得体面的姻亲；而埃德蒙凭着他的人品、他的是非分明和襟怀坦荡，必然会使他有所作为，给他自己和家族带来荣誉和欢乐。他将成为一位牧师。
托马斯爵士在为自己的儿女操心并为他们感到欣慰的同时，也没有忘记为普莱斯太太的儿女们尽力帮帮忙。他慷慨资助她的男孩子们上学读书，等他们长到适当年龄的时候，又帮助给他们安排职业。范妮虽然已与家人几乎完全分离，但是一听说亲戚给他们家帮了什么忙，或者听说家人的处境有了什么好转，品行有了什么上进，都会感到由衷的喜悦。多年来，她和威廉只有幸相会过一次，而且只有那一次。至于家里的其他人，她连影儿也没见到。看来谁都觉得她再也不会回到他们中间，甚至连回去看看都不会，家里人似乎谁也不想她。不过，在她离家后不久，威廉决定去当水手，就在他去海上之前，应邀到北安普敦郡跟妹妹聚会了一个星期。两人相逢时的骨肉深情，无比喜悦，无尽欢乐，真挚交谈，都可想而知。同样可以想象得到，男孩一直兴致勃勃，十分乐观，而女孩在分手时自有一番离愁别绪。幸好这次相聚是在圣诞节假日期间，她可以直接从埃德蒙表哥那里得到安慰。埃德蒙向她述说威廉选上了这个职业之后要做什么事，今后会有什么发展，表妹听了这些喜事美景之后，也渐渐承认他们的离别也许是有好处的。埃德蒙一直对她很好。他离开伊顿公学到牛津大学读书，并未因此改变他体贴人的天性，反倒有了更多的机会显示他对人的体贴。他从不炫耀自己比别人更加尽心，也不担忧自己会尽心过头，而总是一心一意地关照她，体谅她的情绪，尽量宣扬她的优秀品质，克服她的羞怯，使她的优秀品质展现得更加明显，给她出主意，给她安慰，给她鼓励。
由于受到众人的压抑，单靠埃德蒙一人还很难把她激励起来，但是他的这番情义却另有其重大作用：帮助改善了她的心智，增加了她心灵的乐趣。他知道她聪颖、敏锐、头脑清晰、喜爱读书，只要引导得法，定会自行长进。李小姐教她法语，听她每天读一段历史，他则给她推荐课余时间读起来有趣的书，培养她的鉴赏能力，纠正她的错误见解。他和她谈论她读过的书，从而使她体会到读书的益处，并能通过富有见地的评价，使她越发感受到读书的魅力。表哥如此尽心，表妹爱他胜过威廉之外所有的人。她的心一半属于威廉，一半属于他。
[ 此帖被narcis在2013-10-27 00:54重新编辑 ] -
Chapter Three
The first event of any importance in the family was the death of Mr. Norris, which happened when Fanny was about fifteen, and necessarily introduced alterations and novelties. Mrs. Norris, on quitting the Parsonage, removed first to the Park, and afterwards to a small house of Sir Thomas's in the village, and consoled herself for the loss of her husband by considering that she could do very well without him; and for her reduction of income by the evident necessity of stricter economy.
The living was hereafter for Edmund; and, had his uncle died a few years sooner, it would have been duly given to some friend to hold till he were old enough for orders. But Tom's extravagance had, previous to that event, been so great as to render a different disposal of the next presentation necessary, and the younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder. There was another family living actually held for Edmund; but though this circumstance had made the arrangement somewhat easier to Sir Thomas's conscience, he could not but feel it to be an act of injustice, and he earnestly tried to impress his eldest son with the same conviction, in the hope of its producing a better effect than anything he had yet been able to say or do.
"I blush for you, Tom," said he, in his most dignified manner; "I blush for the expedient which I am driven on, and I trust I may pity your feelings as a brother on the occasion. You have robbed Edmund for ten, twenty, thirty years, perhaps for life, of more than half the income which ought to be his. It may hereafter be in my power, or in yours (I hope it will), to procure him better preferment; but it must not be forgotten that no benefit of that sort would have been beyond his natural claims on us, and that nothing can, in fact, be an equivalent for the certain advantage which he is now obliged to forego through the urgency of your debts."
Tom listened with some shame and some sorrow; but escaping as quickly as possible, could soon with cheerful selfishness reflect, firstly, that he had not been half so much in debt as some of his friends; secondly, that his father had made a most tiresome piece of work of it; and, thirdly, that the future incumbent, whoever he might be, would, in all probability, die very soon.
On Mr. Norris's death the presentation became the right of a Dr. Grant, who came consequently to reside at Mansfield; and on proving to be a hearty man of forty-five, seemed likely to disappoint Mr. Bertram's calculations. But "no, he was a short-necked, apoplectic sort of fellow, and, plied well with good things, would soon pop off."
He had a wife about fifteen years his junior, but no children; and they entered the neighbourhood with the usual fair report of being very respectable, agreeable people.
The time was now come when Sir Thomas expected his sister-in-law to claim her share in their niece, the change in Mrs. Norris's situation, and the improvement in Fanny's age, seeming not merely to do away any former objection to their living together, but even to give it the most decided eligibility; and as his own circumstances were rendered less fair than heretofore, by some recent losses on his West India estate, in addition to his eldest son's extravagance, it became not undesirable to himself to be relieved from the expense of her support, and the obligation of her future provision. In the fullness of his belief that such a thing must be, he mentioned its probability to his wife; and the first time of the subject's occurring to her again happening to be when Fanny was present, she calmly observed to her, "So, Fanny, you are going to leave us, and live with my sister. How shall you like it?"
Fanny was too much surprised to do more than repeat her aunt's words, "Going to leave you?"
"Yes, my dear; why should you be astonished? You have been five years with us, and my sister always meant to take you when Mr. Norris died. But you must come up and tack on my patterns all the same."
The news was as disagreeable to Fanny as it had been unexpected. She had never received kindness from her aunt Norris, and could not love her.
"I shall be very sorry to go away," said she, with a faltering voice.
"Yes, I dare say you will; _that's_ natural enough. I suppose you have had as little to vex you since you came into this house as any creature in the world."
"I hope I am not ungrateful, aunt," said Fanny modestly.
"No, my dear; I hope not. I have always found you a very good girl."
"And am I never to live here again?"
"Never, my dear; but you are sure of a comfortable home. It can make very little difference to you, whether you are in one house or the other."
Fanny left the room with a very sorrowful heart; she could not feel the difference to be so small, she could not think of living with her aunt with anything like satisfaction. As soon as she met with Edmund she told him her distress.
"Cousin," said she, "something is going to happen which I do not like at all; and though you have often persuaded me into being reconciled to things that I disliked at first, you will not be able to do it now. I am going to live entirely with my aunt Norris."
"Indeed!"
"Yes; my aunt Bertram has just told me so. It is quite settled. I am to leave Mansfield Park, and go to the White House, I suppose, as soon as she is removed there."
"Well, Fanny, and if the plan were not unpleasant to you, I should call it an excellent one."
"Oh, cousin!"
"It has everything else in its favour. My aunt is acting like a sensible woman in wishing for you. She is choosing a friend and companion exactly where she ought, and I am glad her love of money does not interfere. You will be what you ought to be to her. I hope it does not distress you very much, Fanny?"
"Indeed it does: I cannot like it. I love this house and everything in it: I shall love nothing there. You know how uncomfortable I feel with her."
"I can say nothing for her manner to you as a child; but it was the same with us all, or nearly so. She never knew how to be pleasant to children. But you are now of an age to be treated better; I think she is behaving better already; and when you are her only companion, you _must_ be important to her."
"I can never be important to any one."
"What is to prevent you?"
"Everything. My situation, my foolishness and awkwardness."
"As to your foolishness and awkwardness, my dear Fanny, believe me, you never have a shadow of either, but in using the words so improperly. There is no reason in the world why you should not be important where you are known. You have good sense, and a sweet temper, and I am sure you have a grateful heart, that could never receive kindness without wishing to return it. I do not know any better qualifications for a friend and companion."
"You are too kind," said Fanny, colouring at such praise; "how shall I ever thank you as I ought, for thinking so well of me. Oh! cousin, if I am to go away, I shall remember your goodness to the last moment of my life."
"Why, indeed, Fanny, I should hope to be remembered at such a distance as the White House. You speak as if you were going two hundred miles off instead of only across the park; but you will belong to us almost as much as ever. The two families will be meeting every day in the year. The only difference will be that, living with your aunt, you will necessarily be brought forward as you ought to be. Here there are too many whom you can hide behind; but with her you will be forced to speak for yourself."
"Oh! I do not say so."
"I must say it, and say it with pleasure. Mrs. Norris is much better fitted than my mother for having the charge of you now. She is of a temper to do a great deal for anybody she really interests herself about, and she will force you to do justice to your natural powers."
Fanny sighed, and said, "I cannot see things as you do; but I ought to believe you to be right rather than myself, and I am very much obliged to you for trying to reconcile me to what must be. If I could suppose my aunt really to care for me, it would be delightful to feel myself of consequence to anybody. _ Here_, I know, I am of none, and yet I love the place so well."
"The place, Fanny, is what you will not quit, though you quit the house. You will have as free a command of the park and gardens as ever. Even _your_ constant little heart need not take fright at such a nominal change. You will have the same walks to frequent, the same library to choose from, the same people to look at, the same horse to ride."
"Very true. Yes, dear old grey pony! Ah! cousin, when I remember how much I used to dread riding, what terrors it gave me to hear it talked of as likely to do me good (oh! how I have trembled at my uncle's opening his lips if horses were talked of), and then think of the kind pains you took to reason and persuade me out of my fears, and convince me that I should like it after a little while, and feel how right you proved to be, I am inclined to hope you may always prophesy as well."
"And I am quite convinced that your being with Mrs. Norris will be as good for your mind as riding has been for your health, and as much for your ultimate happiness too."
So ended their discourse, which, for any very appropriate service it could render Fanny, might as well have been spared, for Mrs. Norris had not the smallest intention of taking her. It had never occurred to her, on the present occasion, but as a thing to be carefully avoided. To prevent its being expected, she had fixed on the smallest habitation which could rank as genteel among the buildings of Mansfield parish, the White House being only just large enough to receive herself and her servants, and allow a spare room for a friend, of which she made a very particular point. The spare rooms at the Parsonage had never been wanted, but the absolute necessity of a spare room for a friend was now never forgotten. Not all her precautions, however, could save her from being suspected of something better; or, perhaps, her very display of the importance of a spare room might have misled Sir Thomas to suppose it really intended for Fanny. Lady Bertram soon brought the matter to a certainty by carelessly observing to Mrs. Norris--
"I think, sister, we need not keep Miss Lee any longer, when Fanny goes to live with you."
Mrs. Norris almost started. "Live with me, dear Lady Bertram! what do you mean?"
"Is she not to live with you? I thought you had settled it with Sir Thomas."
"Me! never. I never spoke a syllable about it to Sir Thomas, nor he to me. Fanny live with me! the last thing in the world for me to think of, or for anybody to wish that really knows us both. Good heaven! what could I do with Fanny? Me! a poor, helpless, forlorn widow, unfit for anything, my spirits quite broke down; what could I do with a girl at her time of life? A girl of fifteen! the very age of all others to need most attention and care, and put the cheerfullest spirits to the test! Sure Sir Thomas could not seriously expect such a thing! Sir Thomas is too much my friend. Nobody that wishes me well, I am sure, would propose it. How came Sir Thomas to speak to you about it?"
"Indeed, I do not know. I suppose he thought it best."
"But what did he say? He could not say he _wished_ me to take Fanny. I am sure in his heart he could not wish me to do it."
"No; he only said he thought it very likely; and I thought so too. We both thought it would be a comfort to you. But if you do not like it, there is no more to be said. She is no encumbrance here."
"Dear sister, if you consider my unhappy state, how can she be any comfort to me? Here am I, a poor desolate widow, deprived of the best of husbands, my health gone in attending and nursing him, my spirits still worse, all my peace in this world destroyed, with hardly enough to support me in the rank of a gentlewoman, and enable me to live so as not to disgrace the memory of the dear departed-- what possible comfort could I have in taking such a charge upon me as Fanny? If I could wish it for my own sake, I would not do so unjust a thing by the poor girl. She is in good hands, and sure of doing well. I must struggle through my sorrows and difficulties as I can."
"Then you will not mind living by yourself quite alone?"
"Lady Bertram, I do not complain. I know I cannot live as I have done, but I must retrench where I can, and learn to be a better manager. I _have_ _been_ a liberal housekeeper enough, but I shall not be ashamed to practise economy now. My situation is as much altered as my income. A great many things were due from poor Mr. Norris, as clergyman of the parish, that cannot be expected from me. It is unknown how much was consumed in our kitchen by odd comers and goers. At the White House, matters must be better looked after. I _must_ live within my income, or I shall be miserable; and I own it would give me great satisfaction to be able to do rather more, to lay by a little at the end of the year."
"I dare say you will. You always do, don't you?"
"My object, Lady Bertram, is to be of use to those that come after me. It is for your children's good that I wish to be richer. I have nobody else to care for, but I should be very glad to think I could leave a little trifle among them worth their having."
"You are very good, but do not trouble yourself about them. They are sure of being well provided for. Sir Thomas will take care of that."
"Why, you know, Sir Thomas's means will be rather straitened if the Antigua estate is to make such poor returns."
"Oh! _that_ will soon be settled. Sir Thomas has been writing about it, I know."
"Well, Lady Bertram," said Mrs. Norris, moving to go, "I can only say that my sole desire is to be of use to your family: and so, if Sir Thomas should ever speak again about my taking Fanny, you will be able to say that my health and spirits put it quite out of the question; besides that, I really should not have a bed to give her, for I must keep a spare room for a friend."
Lady Bertram repeated enough of this conversation to her husband to convince him how much he had mistaken his sister-in-law's views; and she was from that moment perfectly safe from all expectation, or the slightest allusion to it from him. He could not but wonder at her refusing to do anything for a niece whom she had been so forward to adopt; but, as she took early care to make him, as well as Lady Bertram, understand that whatever she possessed was designed for their family, he soon grew reconciled to a distinction which, at the same time that it was advantageous and complimentary to them, would enable him better to provide for Fanny himself.
Fanny soon learnt how unnecessary had been her fears of a removal; and her spontaneous, untaught felicity on the discovery, conveyed some consolation to Edmund for his disappointment in what he had expected to be so essentially serviceable to her. Mrs. Norris took possession of the White House, the Grants arrived at the Parsonage, and these events over, everything at Mansfield went on for some time as usual.
The Grants showing a disposition to be friendly and sociable, gave great satisfaction in the main among their new acquaintance. They had their faults, and Mrs. Norris soon found them out. The Doctor was very fond of eating, and would have a good dinner every day; and Mrs. Grant, instead of contriving to gratify him at little expense, gave her cook as high wages as they did at Mansfield Park, and was scarcely ever seen in her offices. Mrs. Norris could not speak with any temper of such grievances, nor of the quantity of butter and eggs that were regularly consumed in the house. "Nobody loved plenty and hospitality more than herself; nobody more hated pitiful doings; the Parsonage, she believed, had never been wanting in comforts of any sort, had never borne a bad character in _her_ _time_, but this was a way of going on that she could not understand. A fine lady in a country parsonage was quite out of place. _Her_ store-room, she thought, might have been good enough for Mrs. Grant to go into. Inquire where she would, she could not find out that Mrs. Grant had ever had more than five thousand pounds."
Lady Bertram listened without much interest to this sort of invective. She could not enter into the wrongs of an economist, but she felt all the injuries of beauty in Mrs. Grant's being so well settled in life without being handsome, and expressed her astonishment on that point almost as often, though not so diffusely, as Mrs. Norris discussed the other.
These opinions had been hardly canvassed a year before another event arose of such importance in the family, as might fairly claim some place in the thoughts and conversation of the ladies. Sir Thomas found it expedient to go to Antigua himself, for the better arrangement of his affairs, and he took his eldest son with him, in the hope of detaching him from some bad connexions at home. They left England with the probability of being nearly a twelvemonth absent.
The necessity of the measure in a pecuniary light, and the hope of its utility to his son, reconciled Sir Thomas to the effort of quitting the rest of his family, and of leaving his daughters to the direction of others at their present most interesting time of life. He could not think Lady Bertram quite equal to supply his place with them, or rather, to perform what should have been her own; but, in Mrs. Norris's watchful attention, and in Edmund's judgment, he had sufficient confidence to make him go without fears for their conduct.
Lady Bertram did not at all like to have her husband leave her; but she was not disturbed by any alarm for his safety, or solicitude for his comfort, being one of those persons who think nothing can be dangerous, or difficult, or fatiguing to anybody but themselves.
The Miss Bertrams were much to be pitied on the occasion: not for their sorrow, but for their want of it. Their father was no object of love to them; he had never seemed the friend of their pleasures, and his absence was unhappily most welcome. They were relieved by it from all restraint; and without aiming at one gratification that would probably have been forbidden by Sir Thomas, they felt themselves immediately at their own disposal, and to have every indulgence within their reach. Fanny's relief, and her consciousness of it, were quite equal to her cousins'; but a more tender nature suggested that her feelings were ungrateful, and she really grieved because she could not grieve. "Sir Thomas, who had done so much for her and her brothers, and who was gone perhaps never to return! that she should see him go without a tear! it was a shameful insensibility." He had said to her, moreover, on the very last morning, that he hoped she might see William again in the course of the ensuing winter, and had charged her to write and invite him to Mansfield as soon as the squadron to which he belonged should be known to be in England. "This was so thoughtful and kind!" and would he only have smiled upon her, and called her "my dear Fanny," while he said it, every former frown or cold address might have been forgotten. But he had ended his speech in a way to sink her in sad mortification, by adding, "If William does come to Mansfield, I hope you may be able to convince him that the many years which have passed since you parted have not been spent on your side entirely without improvement; though, I fear, he must find his sister at sixteen in some respects too much like his sister at ten." She cried bitterly over this reflection when her uncle was gone; and her cousins, on seeing her with red eyes, set her down as a hypocrite.
这个家族所出的第一件较大的事是诺里斯先生的去世。事情发生在范妮大约十五岁那年，不可避免地引起了一些变化和新鲜事。诺里斯太太离开了’牧师住宅，先是搬到了曼斯菲尔德庄园，后来又搬到托马斯爵士在村子里的一座小屋。她为失去丈夫安慰自己，心想没有他照样能过得挺好，也为收入减少安慰自己，明摆着应该更加节俭些。
这个牧师职位本应由埃德蒙接任的，如果姨父早死几年，埃德蒙还不到接受圣职的年龄，就由哪个亲友暂干几年，到时候再交给他。但是，姨父去世之前，汤姆即已挥霍无度，职位的下一任人选只好另找他人，做弟弟的必须为哥哥的寻欢作乐付出代价。其实，他家还有另一个牧师职位给埃德蒙留着，尽管这一情况使得托马斯爵士在良心上多少好受一些，但他总觉得事情做得不够公平，便极力想让大儿子也认识到这一点，希望这一努力能产生比他以前的任何言行都要好的效果。
“汤姆，我为你感到害臊，”他以极其庄重的态度说道。“我为我被迫采取这个应急措施感到害臊。我想我要可怜你在这件事上所感到的为兄的惭愧之情。你把本该属于埃德蒙的一半以上的进项剥夺了十年、二十年、三十年，说不定是一辈子。也许我今后有能力，或者你今后有能力（但愿如此），给他谋到一个更好的职位。不过，我们决不能忘记，即使做出这样的好事，也没有超出我们做父兄的对他应尽的义务。事实上，由于急于给你偿还债务，他现在不得不放弃的那份明摆着的好处，是什么也补偿不了的。”
汤姆听着这席话倒也感到几分惭愧，几分难受。不过，为了尽快摆脱这种心情，他很快便带着乐滋滋的自私心理琢磨道：第一，他欠的债还不及某些朋友欠的一半多；第二，他父亲对这件事唠叨得够烦人了；第三，下一任牧师不管由谁来担任，十有八九会很快死去。
诺里斯先生死后，继任圣职的权利落到了一位格兰特博士身上，因而他就来到曼斯菲尔德住了下来。没想到他竟是个四十五岁的健壮汉子，看来伯特伦先生的如意算盘是要落空了。可是，“不，这人是个短脖子，容易中风的那种人，加上贪吃贪喝，很快就会死去。”
新任牧师的妻子比他小十五岁左右，两人无儿无女。他们来到这里，像以往的牧师初来乍到时一样，人们都传说他们是非常体面、和蔼可亲的人。
时至如今，托马斯爵士觉得他的大姨子应该履行她对外甥女的那份义务了。诺里斯太太的处境变了，范妮的年龄也渐渐大了，诺里斯太太原先反对范妮住她家的理由似乎已不复存在，反倒显得两人住在一起是最妥当不过了。再说托马斯爵士的西印度种植场近来遭受了一些损失，加上大儿子挥霍无度，境况已不如从前，因此他也并非不想解脱掉抚养范妮的负担，以及将来供养她的义务。他深信必须这样做，便向妻子说起了这种可能性。伯特伦夫人再次想到这件事的时候，碰巧范妮也在场，她便平静地对她说：“这样看来，范妮，你就要离开我们住到我姐姐那里去了。你觉得怎么样？”
范妮大为惊愕，只是重复了一声姨妈的话：“就要离开你们了？”
“是的，亲爱的，你为什么感到惊讶呢？你在我们这里住了五年了，诺里斯先生去世以后，我姐姐总想让你过去。不过，你还得照样过来给我缝图案呀。”
这消息不仅使范妮为之惊讶，而且令她感觉不快。她从未领受过诺里斯姨妈的好处，因此也不可能爱她。
“我离开这里会很伤心的，”她声音颤抖地说。
“是啊，我想你是会伤心的，这也是很自然的。我想，自从你来到这个家之后，还不曾有过什么事情让你烦恼吧。”
“姨妈，我想我没有忘恩负义吧？”范妮腼腆地说。
“是的，亲爱的，我想你没有。我一直觉得你是个很好的姑娘。”
“我以后再也不能住到这里了吗？”
“再也不能了，亲爱的。不过，你肯定会有一个舒适的家。不管你是住在这座宅子里，还是住在别的宅子里，对你来说都不会有多大差别。”
范妮心情沉重地走出屋去。她无法把这差异看得很小，她无法想象和大姨妈住在一起会有什么称心如意的事情。她一碰到埃德蒙，便把自己的伤心事告诉了他。
“表哥，”她说，“就要出一件让我很不高兴的事。过去我遇到不高兴的事，往往经你开导就想通了，可这一次你就开导不通我了。我要住到诺里斯姨妈家去了。”
“真的呀！”
“是的，伯特伦姨妈刚刚这么对我说的。事情已经定下来了。我得离开曼斯菲尔德庄园，我想一等诺里斯姨妈搬到白房子，我就搬到那里去。”
“哦，范妮，要不是因为你不喜欢这个安排，我还真会觉得好得很呢。”
“噢，表哥！”
“这个安排从各个方面来看都不错。大姨妈既然希望你去，表明她挺通情达理的。她选择了你做朋友和伙伴是再恰当不过了，我很高兴她没有因为贪财而不选你。你做她的朋友和伙伴也是应该的。我希望，范妮，你不要为这件事感到太难过。”
“我真的很难过。我不可能为之高兴。我喜欢这座房子，喜欢这里的每样东西，而那里的一切我都不会喜欢。你知道我跟她在一起多不自在。”
“她把你当孩子看待时对你的态度，我没有什么好讲的。不过，她对我们大家的态度也和对你一样，或者说差不多一样。她从不懂得怎样对孩子和蔼可亲。不过，你现在到了这个年龄，需要别人待你好些。我看她现在待你是好些了。等你成了她唯一的伙伴，她一定会看重你的。”
“我永远不会被任何人看重的。”
“有什么事情妨碍你呢？”
“样样事情——我的处境——我的愚蠢，我的笨拙。”
“至于说你愚蠢、笨拙，亲爱的范妮，请相信我，你一丝一毫也没有这样的缺陷，这两个字眼用得太不恰当。不管在什么地方，只要人们了解了你，你决不会不被人看重。你通情达理，性情温柔，我敢说还有一颗感恩图报之心，受到别人的好处总想报答人家的恩情。照我看，作为朋友和伙伴，没有什么比这更好的品质了。”
“你太好了．”范妮说，听到表哥的赞扬，不由得脸红了。“你把我看得这么好，我怎么感谢你才好啊？噢！表哥，我要是离开这里，将永远记住你的好处，直至我生命的最后一刻。”
“哦，范妮，不过是白房子那么一点距离，我倒真希望你能记住我。听你的口气，你好像是要到两百英里以外去，而不仅仅是庄园的那一边。不过，你差不多和以往一样，还是我们中间的一员。两家人一年到头天天见面。唯一的区别是，你跟大姨妈住在一起，必然会理所当然地促使你早点成熟。在这儿吗，人太多了，你可以躲在后边。可是跟大姨妈在一起，你就不得不替自己说话。”
“噢！不要这么说嘛。”
“我必须这么说，而且乐意这么说。现在由诺里斯姨妈来照管你，比我妈妈合适得多。诺里斯姨妈有这样的脾气，对于她真正关心的人，能照顾得非常周到，还能促使你充分发挥你的能力。”
范妮叹息了一声，说道：“我的看法和你不一样。不过，我应该相信你而不是相信我自己，你想帮助我对避免不了的事情想开些，我非常感激。如果我能够设想大姨妈真正关心我，我会因为感到还有人看重我而高兴啊！在这儿，我知道我是无足轻重的，可我非常喜欢这个地方。”
“范妮，你要离开的是这座房子，可不是这个地方。这个庄园及里边的花园你还可以一如既往地自由享受。对于这样一个名义上的变化，即使你那小小的心灵也不必为之惊骇。你还可以照样在原来的小路上散步，照样从原来的图书室里挑选图书，照样看到原来的人，照样骑原来那匹马。”
“一点不错。是啊，亲爱的老灰马。啊！表哥，我还记得当初我多么害怕骑马，一听人说骑马会对我有好处就吓得不得了。噢！每次谈到马的时候，一看到姨父要张嘴说话，我就浑身发抖。再想想你好心好意费尽心思地劝导我不要害怕，让我相信只要骑一会儿就会喜欢的，现在觉得你的话说得多么正确，我倒希望你每次的预言能同样正确。”
“我完全相信，你和诺里斯太太在一起会对你的智力有好处，正如骑马对你的身体有好处一样——也对你的最终幸福有好处。”
他们的这番谈话就这样结束了，不管对范妮有没有好处，其实本可以不谈的，因为诺里斯太太丝毫没有接纳她的意思。目前，她只想小心翼翼地回避这件事。为了防止别人打她的主意，她挑选了曼斯菲尔德教区可以维持上流社会体面的最小的住宅。这所白房子只容得下她自己和她的仆人，还有一个备用房间是专为一个朋友准备的，而且要不厌其烦地强调这一点。以前她们住在牧师住宅里从未需要什么备用房间，现在却念念不忘要给朋友保留一个备用房间。然而，不管她怎么处心积虑地防范，还是免不了别人把她往好里猜想。她反复强调需要有个备用房间，也可能使托马斯爵士误以为真是为范妮准备的。伯特伦夫人不久便把这件事明确地提了出来，漫不经心地对诺里斯太太说：
“姐姐，等范妮跟你一起生活之后，我想我们就不再需要雇用李小姐了吧？”
诺里斯太太几乎吓了一跳。“跟我一起生活，亲爱的伯特伦夫人，你这是什么意思？”
“她不是要跟你一起生活吗？我还以为你跟托马斯爵士早就谈妥了呢？”
“我！从来没有。我一个字也没跟托马斯爵士说起过，他也只字没跟我说起过。范妮跟我住在一起！这是我决不会考虑的事，凡是真正了解我们俩的人，谁也不会这么设想。天哪！我把范妮领去怎么办呀？我！一个弧苦伶仃的穷寡妇，什么事情都干不了，精神都崩溃了，叫我对这样年龄的一个姑娘，一个十五岁的姑娘怎么办呀！这么大的孩子正是最需要关心和爱护的时候，连精力最旺盛的人也未必承受得了呀。托马斯爵士决不会当真指望我做这样的事情吧！托马斯爵士是我的朋友，不会这样做的。我相信，凡是希望我好的人，都不会提议这样的事情。托马斯爵士怎么会跟你说起这件事的？”
“我还真不知道。我想他觉得这样做最合适。”
“可他是怎么说的呢？他总不会说他希望我把范妮接走吧。我想他内心里肯定不会希望我这样做。”
“是的，他只是说他认为这样做比较合适——我也是这么认为的。我们俩都觉得这对你会是个安慰。不过，你要是不想这样做，那就什么也不用再说了。她在这里并没有什么妨碍。”
“亲爱的妹妹！你要是考虑一下我的悲惨情况，她怎么会给我带来什么安慰呢？如今我是个可怜巴巴的穷寡妇，失去了世界上最好的丈夫，为了伺候他把我的身体也弄垮了，我的精神状态更加糟糕，我在人世间的宁静全被摧毁了，只能勉强维持一个有身份女人的生活，不至于辱没我那已去世的亲爱的丈夫——再叫我担负起照管范妮的责任，我会得到什么安慰呀！即使我为了自己想要这样做，我也不能对那可怜的孩子做出这么不公道的事情。她现在受到高贵人家的养育，肯定前程似锦。我却得在艰难困苦中拼命挣扎。”
“那你不在乎孤零零地一个人生活啦？”
“亲爱的伯特伦夫人！我除了孤零零还配怎么样呢？我希望偶尔能有个朋友住到我那小房舍里（我要永远为朋友留个床位），但我将来的绝大部分岁月要在与世隔绝中度过。我要是能勉强维持生活，就别无所求了。”
“姐姐，我想你的情况也不至于那么坏——通盘考虑起来。托马斯爵士说你每年会有六百英镑的收入。”
“伯特伦夫人，我不是叫苦。我明白我不能像过去那样生活了，而要尽可能地节省开支，学会做个更好的当家人。我以前一直是个大手大脚的当家人，现在要省吃俭用也不怕人笑话。我的处境像我的收入一样发生了变化。许多事情都是可怜的诺里斯先生当牧师时招来的，现在不能指望我也去那样做。素不相识的人来来往往，不知道吃掉了我们厨房里多少东西。到了白房子里，事情就得照料得好一些。我一定得量入为出，不然就要受苦了。坦白地说，要是能做得更好一些——到了年底能有一点积蓄，我会感到非常高兴的。”
“我想你会的。你不是一直在积蓄吗？”
“伯特伦夫人，我的目标是给下一代人留些好处。我是为了你的孩子们，才希望能多有点钱。我没有别人需要关照的，就想将来能给他们每人留下一份稍微像样的财产。”
“你真好，不过不要为他们操心。他们将来肯定什么都不会缺的。托马斯爵士会处理好这件事的。”
“嗨，你要知道，要是安提瓜种植园还这么收入不好的话，托马斯爵士的手头就会很紧了。”
“噢！这很快会解决的。我知道，托马斯爵士正在为此起草什么东西。”
“好吧，伯特伦夫人，”诺里斯太太一边说，一边动身要走，“我只能说，我唯一的愿望是对你的孩子们有些好处——因此，要是托马斯爵士再提起要我把范妮领去的话，你可以对他说，我的身体和精神都不允许我那样做——再说，我还真没有给她睡觉的地方，我得为朋友保留一个备用房间。”
伯特伦夫人把这次谈话转告了她的丈夫，使他意识到他完全领会错了大姨子的心思。从此之后，诺里斯太太再也不用担心他对她还会有什么指望，也不必担心他会就这件事再提只言片语。托马斯爵士感到奇怪的是，当初她是那样起劲地撺掇他们领养这个外甥女，如今却对她一点义务都不肯尽。不过，由于她提前告诉他和伯特伦夫人，她的所有财产都要留给他们的子女，这对他们既有好处，也是好大的面子，因此很快便想通了，进而也能更好地为范妮未来的生活做安排了。
范妮很快便得知，她起先有关要搬走的担忧是完全没有必要的。埃德蒙本来在为他觉得对范妮大有好处的一件事没能办成而感到失望，不料范妮获悉后却喜不自禁，这也给他带来了几分安慰。诺里斯太太住进了白房子，格兰特夫妇来到了牧师住宅，这两件事情过后，曼斯菲尔德一切如常地持续了一段时间。
格兰特夫妇性情和蔼可亲，喜欢交际，使新结识的人大体上颇为满意。两人也有缺点，很快就让诺里斯太太发现了。博士非常好吃，每天都要大吃一顿；而格兰特太太不是尽量节省以满足他的需求，反而给厨子很高的工钱，简直跟曼斯菲尔德庄园给的一样高，而且很少见她亲临厨房和贮藏室。诺里斯太太一说起这种令人愤懑的事情，或者一说起那家人每天耗费那么多的黄油和鸡蛋，不免就要动气。“谁也不像我那样喜欢大量和好客——谁也不像我那样讨厌小家子气——我相信，牧师住宅在我当家的时候，该享受的东西从没缺过一样，也从没落得过什么坏名声，但是像他们现在这样胡闹法，我可不能理解。想在乡下牧师住宅里摆阔太太的架子，实在不相称。我原来的那间贮藏室够不错的了，我看格兰特太太进去一趟不会降低她的身份。我到处打听，从没听说格兰特太太的财产超出过五千英镑。”
伯特伦夫人没有多大兴致去听这种指责。她不愿过问持家人的过失，但她觉得格兰特太大人不漂亮却也能过上这么好的日子，这简直是对漂亮人们的侮辱，于是她经常对此表示惊讶，就像诺里斯太太经常谈论持家问题一样，只是不像诺里斯太太那样喋喋不休。
这些看法谈论了还不到一年，家里又发生了一件事，这件事关系重大，自然要在太太小姐们的心事言谈中占有一定位置。托马斯爵士觉得，他应当亲自跑到安提瓜，以便更好地安排那里的事务，并顺便把大儿子也带了去，想借此使他摆脱在家里结交的一些坏人。他们离开了英国，可能要在外面待上将近一年。
托马斯爵士本不愿离开一家老小，把正处于妙龄时期的两位女儿交给别人指导，只是从钱财角度看来必须这样做，而且这样做可能对儿子有好处，这才打定了主意。他觉得伯特伦夫人不能完全接替他对两个女儿的指导，甚至连她自己应尽的职责都难以完成。但他非常相信诺里斯太太的谨慎小心和埃德蒙的审慎明断，足以让他放心离去，不再为女儿们担心。
伯特伦夫人压根儿不想让丈夫离开她，不过她之所以感到不安，既不是出于对他安全的担心，也不是出于对他安适的关心。她属于这样一种人，只知道自己会有危险、困难和劳顿，而别人全然不会遇上这类事情。
在这次离别中，让人深为可怜的还是两位伯特伦小姐。这倒不是因为她们为之伤心，而是因为她们并不伤心。她们并不爱她们的父亲，凡是她们喜欢的事情，他似乎从来没有赞成过，因而令人遗憾的是，父亲出门远去，她们反倒大为高兴。这样一来，她们就从种种约束中解脱出来。她们不会想做什么乐事而遭到父亲的禁止，顿时感到一切可以由着自己了，完全可以恣意放纵了。范妮的解脱、欣慰之感丝毫不亚于两位表姐，不过她心肠比她们软，觉得自己这种心情是忘恩负义，真为自己没能伤心而感到伤心。“托马斯爵士对我和哥哥弟弟有那么多的恩情，这次一去也许永远回不来啦！我看着他走居然连一滴眼泪也不曾流下！筒直是无情无义到可耻的地步。”况且，就在临别的那天早晨，他还对她说，他希望在即将到来的冬天她能再次见到威廉，并嘱咐她一听到威廉所属的中队回到英国，就写信邀请他来曼斯菲尔德。“他对我多么体贴多么好啊！”他说那些话的时候，只需对她笑一笑，叫一声“亲爱的范妮”，她就会忘掉以往他对她总是皱着眉头，言语冷漠。不过，他在那席话的最后加了几句，使她感到不胜屈辱：“如果威廉来到曼斯菲尔德，我希望你能让他相信，你们分别多年，你并非毫无长进——不过我担心，他一定会发现，他的妹妹虽然已经十六岁，但在某些方面还像十岁时一样。”姨父走后，她这样想来想去，痛哭了一场。两位表姐看见她两眼通红，以为她在装模作样。
[ 此帖被narcis在2013-10-27 00:55重新编辑 ] -
Chapter Four
Tom Bertram had of late spent so little of his time at home that he could be only nominally missed; and Lady Bertram was soon astonished to find how very well they did even without his father, how well Edmund could supply his place in carving, talking to the steward, writing to the attorney, settling with the servants, and equally saving her from all possible fatigue or exertion in every particular but that of directing her letters.
The earliest intelligence of the travellers' safe arrival at Antigua, after a favourable voyage, was received; though not before Mrs. Norris had been indulging in very dreadful fears, and trying to make Edmund participate them whenever she could get him alone; and as she depended on being the first person made acquainted with any fatal catastrophe, she had already arranged the manner of breaking it to all the others, when Sir Thomas's assurances of their both being alive and well made it necessary to lay by her agitation and affectionate preparatory speeches for a while.
The winter came and passed without their being called for; the accounts continued perfectly good; and Mrs. Norris, in promoting gaieties for her nieces, assisting their toilets, displaying their accomplishments, and looking about for their future husbands, had so much to do as, in addition to all her own household cares, some interference in those of her sister, and Mrs. Grant's wasteful doings to overlook, left her very little occasion to be occupied in fears for the absent.
The Miss Bertrams were now fully established among the belles of the neighbourhood; and as they joined to beauty and brilliant acquirements a manner naturally easy, and carefully formed to general civility and obligingness, they possessed its favour as well as its admiration. Their vanity was in such good order that they seemed to be quite free from it, and gave themselves no airs; while the praises attending such behaviour, secured and brought round by their aunt, served to strengthen them in believing they had no faults.
Lady Bertram did not go into public with her daughters. She was too indolent even to accept a mother's gratification in witnessing their success and enjoyment at the expense of any personal trouble, and the charge was made over to her sister, who desired nothing better than a post of such honourable representation, and very thoroughly relished the means it afforded her of mixing in society without having horses to hire.
Fanny had no share in the festivities of the season; but she enjoyed being avowedly useful as her aunt's companion when they called away the rest of the family; and, as Miss Lee had left Mansfield, she naturally became everything to Lady Bertram during the night of a ball or a party. She talked to her, listened to her, read to her; and the tranquillity of such evenings, her perfect security in such a _tete-a-tete_ from any sound of unkindness, was unspeakably welcome to a mind which had seldom known a pause in its alarms or embarrassments. As to her cousins' gaieties, she loved to hear an account of them, especially of the balls, and whom Edmund had danced with; but thought too lowly of her own situation to imagine she should ever be admitted to the same, and listened, therefore, without an idea of any nearer concern in them. Upon the whole, it was a comfortable winter to her; for though it brought no William to England, the never-failing hope of his arrival was worth much.
The ensuing spring deprived her of her valued friend, the old grey pony; and for some time she was in danger of feeling the loss in her health as well as in her affections; for in spite of the acknowledged importance of her riding on horse-back, no measures were taken for mounting her again, "because," as it was observed by her aunts, "she might ride one of her cousin's horses at any time when they did not want them," and as the Miss Bertrams regularly wanted their horses every fine day, and had no idea of carrying their obliging manners to the sacrifice of any real pleasure, that time, of course, never came. They took their cheerful rides in the fine mornings of April and May; and Fanny either sat at home the whole day with one aunt, or walked beyond her strength at the instigation of the other: Lady Bertram holding exercise to be as unnecessary for everybody as it was unpleasant to herself; and Mrs. Norris, who was walking all day, thinking everybody ought to walk as much. Edmund was absent at this time, or the evil would have been earlier remedied. When he returned, to understand how Fanny was situated, and perceived its ill effects, there seemed with him but one thing to be done; and that "Fanny must have a horse" was the resolute declaration with which he opposed whatever could be urged by the supineness of his mother, or the economy of his aunt, to make it appear unimportant. Mrs. Norris could not help thinking that some steady old thing might be found among the numbers belonging to the Park that would do vastly well; or that one might be borrowed of the steward; or that perhaps Dr. Grant might now and then lend them the pony he sent to the post. She could not but consider it as absolutely unnecessary, and even improper, that Fanny should have a regular lady's horse of her own, in the style of her cousins. She was sure Sir Thomas had never intended it: and she must say that, to be making such a purchase in his absence, and adding to the great expenses of his stable, at a time when a large part of his income was unsettled, seemed to her very unjustifiable. "Fanny must have a horse," was Edmund's only reply. Mrs. Norris could not see it in the same light. Lady Bertram did: she entirely agreed with her son as to the necessity of it, and as to its being considered necessary by his father; she only pleaded against there being any hurry; she only wanted him to wait till Sir Thomas's return, and then Sir Thomas might settle it all himself. He would be at home in September, and where would be the harm of only waiting till September?
Though Edmund was much more displeased with his aunt than with his mother, as evincing least regard for her niece, he could not help paying more attention to what she said; and at length determined on a method of proceeding which would obviate the risk of his father's thinking he had done too much, and at the same time procure for Fanny the immediate means of exercise, which he could not bear she should be without. He had three horses of his own, but not one that would carry a woman. Two of them were hunters; the third, a useful road-horse: this third he resolved to exchange for one that his cousin might ride; he knew where such a one was to be met with; and having once made up his mind, the whole business was soon completed. The new mare proved a treasure; with a very little trouble she became exactly calculated for the purpose, and Fanny was then put in almost full possession of her. She had not supposed before that anything could ever suit her like the old grey pony; but her delight in Edmund's mare was far beyond any former pleasure of the sort; and the addition it was ever receiving in the consideration of that kindness from which her pleasure sprung, was beyond all her words to express. She regarded her cousin as an example of everything good and great, as possessing worth which no one but herself could ever appreciate, and as entitled to such gratitude from her as no feelings could be strong enough to pay. Her sentiments towards him were compounded of all that was respectful, grateful, confiding, and tender.
As the horse continued in name, as well as fact, the property of Edmund, Mrs. Norris could tolerate its being for Fanny's use; and had Lady Bertram ever thought about her own objection again, he might have been excused in her eyes for not waiting till Sir Thomas's return in September, for when September came Sir Thomas was still abroad, and without any near prospect of finishing his business. Unfavourable circumstances had suddenly arisen at a moment when he was beginning to turn all his thoughts towards England; and the very great uncertainty in which everything was then involved determined him on sending home his son, and waiting the final arrangement by himself Tom arrived safely, bringing an excellent account of his father's health; but to very little purpose, as far as Mrs. Norris was concerned. Sir Thomas's sending away his son seemed to her so like a parent's care, under the influence of a foreboding of evil to himself, that she could not help feeling dreadful presentiments; and as the long evenings of autumn came on, was so terribly haunted by these ideas, in the sad solitariness of her cottage, as to be obliged to take daily refuge in the dining-room of the Park. The return of winter engagements, however, was not without its effect; and in the course of their progress, her mind became so pleasantly occupied in superintending the fortunes of her eldest niece, as tolerably to quiet her nerves. "If poor Sir Thomas were fated never to return, it would be peculiarly consoling to see their dear Maria well married," she very often thought; always when they were in the company of men of fortune, and particularly on the introduction of a young man who had recently succeeded to one of the largest estates and finest places in the country.
Mr. Rushworth was from the first struck with the beauty of Miss Bertram, and, being inclined to marry, soon fancied himself in love. He was a heavy young man, with not more than common sense; but as there was nothing disagreeable in his figure or address, the young lady was well pleased with her conquest. Being now in her twenty-first year, Maria Bertram was beginning to think matrimony a duty; and as a marriage with Mr. Rushworth would give her the enjoyment of a larger income than her father's, as well as ensure her the house in town, which was now a prime object, it became, by the same rule of moral obligation, her evident duty to marry Mr. Rushworth if she could. Mrs. Norris was most zealous in promoting the match, by every suggestion and contrivance likely to enhance its desirableness to either party; and, among other means, by seeking an intimacy with the gentleman's mother, who at present lived with him, and to whom she even forced Lady Bertram to go through ten miles of indifferent road to pay a morning visit. It was not long before a good understanding took place between this lady and herself. Mrs. Rushworth acknowledged herself very desirous that her son should marry, and declared that of all the young ladies she had ever seen, Miss Bertram seemed, by her amiable qualities and accomplishments, the best adapted to make him happy. Mrs. Norris accepted the compliment, and admired the nice discernment of character which could so well distinguish merit. Maria was indeed the pride and delight of them all--perfectly faultless-- an angel; and, of course, so surrounded by admirers, must be difficult in her choice: but yet, as far as Mrs. Norris could allow herself to decide on so short an acquaintance, Mr. Rushworth appeared precisely the young man to deserve and attach her.
After dancing with each other at a proper number of balls, the young people justified these opinions, and an engagement, with a due reference to the absent Sir Thomas, was entered into, much to the satisfaction of their respective families, and of the general lookers-on of the neighbourhood, who had, for many weeks past, felt the expediency of Mr. Rushworth's marrying Miss Bertram.
It was some months before Sir Thomas's consent could be received; but, in the meanwhile, as no one felt a doubt of his most cordial pleasure in the connexion, the intercourse of the two families was carried on without restraint, and no other attempt made at secrecy than Mrs. Norris's talking of it everywhere as a matter not to be talked of at present.
Edmund was the only one of the family who could see a fault in the business; but no representation of his aunt's could induce him to find Mr. Rushworth a desirable companion. He could allow his sister to be the best judge of her own happiness, but he was not pleased that her happiness should centre in a large income; nor could he refrain from often saying to himself, in Mr. Rushworth's company-- "If this man had not twelve thousand a year, he would be a very stupid fellow."
Sir Thomas, however, was truly happy in the prospect of an alliance so unquestionably advantageous, and of which he heard nothing but the perfectly good and agreeable. It was a connexion exactly of the right sort-- in the same county, and the same interest--and his most hearty concurrence was conveyed as soon as possible. He only conditioned that the marriage should not take place before his return, which he was again looking eagerly forward to. He wrote in April, and had strong hopes of settling everything to his entire satisfaction, and leaving Antigua before the end of the summer.
Such was the state of affairs in the month of July; and Fanny had just reached her eighteenth year, when the society of the village received an addition in the brother and sister of Mrs. Grant, a Mr. and Miss Crawford, the children of her mother by a second marriage. They were young people of fortune. The son had a good estate in Norfolk, the daughter twenty thousand pounds. As children, their sister had been always very fond of them; but, as her own marriage had been soon followed by the death of their common parent, which left them to the care of a brother of their father, of whom Mrs. Grant knew nothing, she had scarcely seen them since. In their uncle's house they had found a kind home. Admiral and Mrs. Crawford, though agreeing in nothing else, were united in affection for these children, or, at least, were no farther adverse in their feelings than that each had their favourite, to whom they showed the greatest fondness of the two. The Admiral delighted in the boy, Mrs. Crawford doted on the girl; and it was the lady's death which now obliged her _protegee_, after some months' further trial at her uncle's house, to find another home. Admiral Crawford was a man of vicious conduct, who chose, instead of retaining his niece, to bring his mistress under his own roof; and to this Mrs. Grant was indebted for her sister's proposal of coming to her, a measure quite as welcome on one side as it could be expedient on the other; for Mrs. Grant, having by this time run through the usual resources of ladies residing in the country without a family of children--having more than filled her favourite sitting-room with pretty furniture, and made a choice collection of plants and poultry--was very much in want of some variety at home. The arrival, therefore, of a sister whom she had always loved, and now hoped to retain with her as long as she remained single, was highly agreeable; and her chief anxiety was lest Mansfield should not satisfy the habits of a young woman who had been mostly used to London.
Miss Crawford was not entirely free from similar apprehensions, though they arose principally from doubts of her sister's style of living and tone of society; and it was not till after she had tried in vain to persuade her brother to settle with her at his own country house, that she could resolve to hazard herself among her other relations. To anything like a permanence of abode, or limitation of society, Henry Crawford had, unluckily, a great dislike: he could not accommodate his sister in an article of such importance; but he escorted her, with the utmost kindness, into Northamptonshire, and as readily engaged to fetch her away again, at half an hour's notice, whenever she were weary of the place.
The meeting was very satisfactory on each side. Miss Crawford found a sister without preciseness or rusticity, a sister's husband who looked the gentleman, and a house commodious and well fitted up; and Mrs. Grant received in those whom she hoped to love better than ever a young man and woman of very prepossessing appearance. Mary Crawford was remarkably pretty; Henry, though not handsome, had air and countenance; the manners of both were lively and pleasant, and Mrs. Grant immediately gave them credit for everything else. She was delighted with each, but Mary was her dearest object; and having never been able to glory in beauty of her own, she thoroughly enjoyed the power of being proud of her sister's. She had not waited her arrival to look out for a suitable match for her: she had fixed on Tom Bertram; the eldest son of a baronet was not too good for a girl of twenty thousand pounds, with all the elegance and accomplishments which Mrs. Grant foresaw in her; and being a warm-hearted, unreserved woman, Mary had not been three hours in the house before she told her what she had planned.
Miss Crawford was glad to find a family of such consequence so very near them, and not at all displeased either at her sister's early care, or the choice it had fallen on. Matrimony was her object, provided she could marry well: and having seen Mr. Bertram in town, she knew that objection could no more be made to his person than to his situation in life. While she treated it as a joke, therefore, she did not forget to think of it seriously. The scheme was soon repeated to Henry.
"And now," added Mrs. Grant, "I have thought of something to make it complete. I should dearly love to settle you both in this country; and therefore, Henry, you shall marry the youngest Miss Bertram, a nice, handsome, good-humoured, accomplished girl, who will make you very happy."
Henry bowed and thanked her.
"My dear sister," said Mary, "if you can persuade him into anything of the sort, it will be a fresh matter of delight to me to find myself allied to anybody so clever, and I shall only regret that you have not half a dozen daughters to dispose of. If you can persuade Henry to marry, you must have the address of a Frenchwoman. All that English abilities can do has been tried already. 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), as well as my dear aunt and myself, have taken to reason, coax, or trick him into marrying, is inconceivable! He is the most horrible flirt that can be imagined. If your Miss Bertrams do not like to have their hearts broke, let them avoid Henry."
"My dear brother, I will not believe this of you."
"No, I am sure you are too good. You will be kinder than Mary. You will allow for the doubts of youth and inexperience. I am of a cautious temper, and unwilling to risk my happiness in a hurry. Nobody can think more highly of the matrimonial state than myself I consider the blessing of a wife as most justly described in those discreet lines of the poet--'Heaven's _last_ best gift.'"
"There, Mrs. Grant, you see how he dwells on one word, and only look at his smile. I assure you he is very detestable; the Admiral's lessons have quite spoiled him."
"I pay very little regard," said Mrs. Grant, "to what any young person says on the subject of marriage. If they profess a disinclination for it, I only set it down that they have not yet seen the right person."
Dr. Grant laughingly congratulated Miss Crawford on feeling no disinclination to the state herself.
"Oh yes! I am not at all ashamed of it. I would have everybody marry if they can do it properly: I do not like to have people throw themselves away; but everybody should marry as soon as they can do it to advantage."
汤姆·伯特伦临走前本来就很少待在家里，因此家里人只是在名义上觉得缺了他。伯特伦夫人很快便惊奇地发现，即使缺了做父亲的，大家过得也挺好，埃德蒙可以代父亲切肉，跟管家商量事情，给代理人写信，向仆人发工钱，像他父亲一样，一切烦人劳累之事，样样都替她做好了，只不过她自己的信还得由她自己来写。
两位出门人一路平安地抵达安提瓜的消息收到了。可在这之前，诺里斯太太一直担心会出什么非常可怕的事情，而且只要旁边没有人，就让埃德蒙分享她的担忧。她相信，不管发生什么大灾大难，她肯定是最先得到消息，因此她早就想好了如何向众人宣布这噩耗。恰在这时，托马斯爵士来信了，宣告父子俩平安无事。于是，诺里斯太太只得暂时收起她的激动心情和准备宣布噩耗时充满深情的开场白。
冬天来而复去，家里并不需要那父子俩。他们在海外的消息也依然很好。诺里斯太太除了料理自己的家务，过问妹妹的家务，注视格兰特太太的浪费行为，还要出出主意叫外甥女玩得更加开心，帮助她们梳妆打扮，展示她们的才能，给她们物色女婿，忙得她没有心思再为两个远行的人担忧了。
现在，两位伯特伦小姐已被公认属于当地的美女之列。她们不仅模样俊俏，才华出众，而且举止落落大方，刻意表现得彬彬有礼，和蔼可亲，因此深受人们的喜爱和仰慕。她们虽然也爱慕虚荣，但表现得体，好像毫无虚荣之感，也没有装腔作势的架子。她们这般表现所赢得的夸奖，大姨妈听到后又转告给她们，使她们越发相信自己十全十美。
伯特伦夫人不跟女儿们一起出入社交场合。她过于懒散，甚至都不愿牺牲一点个人利益，感受一下做母亲的喜悦，亲自去看看自己的女儿们在社交场合如何荣耀，如何快活，因此每次都把这事托付给姐姐。做姐姐的真是求之不得，以这么体面的身份带着外甥女出入社交场合，也不用自己租马车，可以尽情享用妹妹家提供的一切方便。
社交季节的各种活动并没有范妮的份儿，不过等其他人都出门赴约之后，就剩她陪伴二姨妈，她公然成了有用之人，心里感到乐滋滋的。加上李小姐已离开曼斯菲尔德，每逢举行舞会或宴会的夜晚，她自然就成为伯特伦夫人须臾难离的伙伴。她陪夫人聊天，听她说话，读书给她听，在这静静的夜晚，进行这样的促膝谈心，丝毫不用担心听到什么逆耳的声音，这对于一颗一向吃尽了惶恐不安苦头的心灵来说，真有说不出的喜悦。至于表姐们的娱乐活动，她倒喜欢听她们回来讲述，特别喜欢听她们讲述舞会的情况，讲述埃德蒙和谁跳的舞。不过她认为自己地位低微，不敢奢望自己也能参加那样的舞会，因而听的时候并不怎么太往心里去。总的说来，她觉得这个冬天过得还不错，虽说威廉没在这期间回到英国，可她心里一直期望他会回来，这种期望也是非常可贵的。
随之而来的春天夺去了她心爱的朋友老灰马，一时间，她不仅遭受到感情上的失落，而且感到身体上也要蒙受损失。尽管姨妈她们都承认骑马对她有好处，但却没有采取什么措施让她再有马骑。两位姨妈说：“表姐不骑马的时候，不管是她们谁的马，你随时都可以骑。”然而，两位伯特伦小姐尽管一副热心助人的样子，可每逢天气晴朗总要骑马出去，并不想牺牲任何实质性的乐趣而去关照范妮。4月、5月风和日丽的上午，她们欢天喜地地骑马游玩，而范妮不是整天陪这个姨妈坐在家里，就是受那个姨妈怂恿到外边走得筋疲力尽。伯特伦夫人自己不喜欢活动，便认为谁都没有必要出去活动，可诺里斯太太整天在外面东跑西颠，也就认为谁都应该天天走那么多路。这期间埃德蒙偏偏不在家，否则这不良现象也会早一点得到纠正。等他回来了解了范妮的处境，意识到由此而来的不良后果，他觉得只有一个办法，那就是：“范妮必须有一匹马。”他不顾懒散成性的妈妈和精打细算的姨妈会怎么反对，斩钉截铁地这样宣布。诺里斯太太不由得想到，也许能从庄园的马匹中挑出一匹稳当的老马来，这就满不错了，或者可以向管家借一匹，或者说不定格兰特博士会把他派往驿站取邮件的那匹矮种马偶尔借给他们。她坚持认为，让范妮像两位表姐一样气派，也有一匹自己专用的马，那是绝对没有必要，甚至也不妥当。她断定，托马斯爵士从没有过这样的打算。她必须说明，趁他不在家时给范妮买马，眼见他的大部分进项尚未妥善解决，却要进一步增加家里养马的巨大开支，她觉得很不合理。埃德蒙只是回答说：“范妮必须有一匹马。”诺里斯太太无法接受这样的看法。伯特伦夫人倒能接受，她完全赞成儿子的看法，认为范妮必须有一匹马，并且认为伯特伦爵士也会觉得有这个必要。她只是要求不要性急，只要儿子等托马斯爵士回来，由托马斯爵士亲自定夺这件事。托马斯爵士9月份就要回到家，只不过等到9月又有何妨呢？
埃德蒙生妈妈的气，更生大姨妈的气，怪她最不关心外甥女。不过，他对她的话却不能不有所顾忌，最后决定采取一个办法，既不至于使父亲认为他做得太过分，又可以使范妮有条件立即开始运动。他不能眼看着她没有马骑。他自己有三匹马，但没有一匹是供女士骑的。其中两匹是狩猎用的，另外一匹是拉车用的，他决定用这匹马换一匹表妹可以骑的马。他知道在哪里能找到这样的马，等主意一定，便很快办妥了这件事。新换来的雌马还真是难得，稍加调驯，便服服帖帖地很好驾驭了，于是差不多完全归范妮使唤了。她以前从未想到，还有什么会比那匹老灰马更让她称心如意的，可现在骑上埃德蒙的这匹雌马，真比过去骑老灰马还要快活得多。再一想这快活是表哥的深情厚意给她带来的，心里就越发快活，简直无法用言语来形容。她认为表哥是世界上最善良、最伟大的典范，他的高尚品质只有她最能感受，她对他的感激之情是世界上任何感情都无法比拟的。她对他的感情集万般尊敬、不胜感激、无限信任、满腔柔情于一体。
这匹马不论在名义上还是在事实上都仍然归埃德蒙所有，因而诺里斯太太也能容忍范妮骑下去。至于伯特伦夫人，即使她想起原先曾反对过，也不会怪罪埃德蒙没等到托马斯爵士9月份回来，因为到了9月份，托马斯爵士仍在海外，而且近期内还不可能办完事情。就在他刚开始考虑回国的时候，突然遇到了不利的情况，因为各种事情很难预料，他便决定打发儿子先回家，自己留下做最后的安排。沥姆平安地回来了，告诉大家说父亲在外身体很好，可是诺里斯太太听后并不放心。她觉得托马斯爵士可能预感自己灾难临头，出于父爱的考虑，把儿子送回了家，因此她心里不禁冒出了种种可怕的预感。秋天的黄昏越来越长，在她那寂寞凄凉的小屋里，这些可怕的念头搅得她胆战心惊，只得每天跑到庄园的餐厅里来避难。然而，冬天又有了约会应酬之后，对她倒不无作用。在约会应酬的过程中，她满心欢喜地替大外甥女筹划未来的命运，心神也就平静了许多。“假如可怜的托马斯爵士命中注定永远回不来，现在看到亲爱的玛丽亚能嫁给一个富贵人家，倒也是莫大的安慰，”她经常这样想；而当她们和有钱的男人在一起的时候，尤其是经人介绍了一位刚在乡下继承了一份最大地产、一个最佳职位的年轻人的时候，她更是总要这样想。
拉什沃思先生一见面就被伯特伦小姐的美貌所吸引，加之一心想要成家，很快便认为自己坠人了情网。他是个粗大肥胖、智力平庸的年轻人。不过，由于在身姿体态、言谈举止上并不讨人嫌，伯特伦小姐觉得能博得他的欢心，倒也非常得意。玛丽亚·伯特伦现年二十一岁，开始觉得自己应该结婚了。她若是能嫁给拉什沃思先生，就能享有一笔比她父亲还高的收入，还能确保在伦敦城里有一处宅邸，而这在眼下恰恰是她最为看重的目标。因此，本着同样的道义原则，她显然应该尽可能嫁给拉什沃思先生。诺里斯太太满腔热情地撮合这门亲事，用尽花言巧语，耍尽种种伎俩，想让双方认清彼此是多么般配。她使出了各种招数，其中包括跟拉什沃思先生的母亲套近乎。拉什沃思太太目前就和儿子住在一起，诺里斯太太甚至硬逼着伯特伦夫人一早赶了十英里坎坷的道路去拜访她。没过多久，她和这位太太便情投意合了。拉什沃思太太承认，她盼望儿子能早日结婚，并且宣称，伯特伦小姐和颜悦色，多才多艺，在她见过的年轻小姐中，似乎最为合适，能使她儿子幸福。诺里斯太太接受了这番夸奖，赞许拉什沃思太太真有眼力，对别人的优点能看得这么准。玛丽亚确实是他们大家的骄傲与欢乐——她白玉无瑕——是个天使。当然，追求她的人很多，她难免挑花了眼。不过，要是让她诺里斯太太经过这么短时间的相识就做决定的话，她认为拉什沃思先生恰恰是最配碍上她，也最能使她中意的年轻人。
经过几番舞会结伴跳舞之后，两位年轻人果然像两位太太料想的那样投缘。在照例禀报了远在海外的托马斯爵士之后，双方便订婚了，男女两家都非常满意，附近的局外人也都十分高兴，好多个星期以来，他们一直觉得拉什沃思先生和伯特伦小姐结婚非常合适。
托马斯爵士的答复几个月后才能收到。然而，在此期间，由于大家都认定他会满心喜欢这门亲事，两家人便毫无约束地来往起来，谁也无意保密，只不过诺里斯太太在逢人便讲的时候，最后总要告诫人家现在还不宜张扬。
伯特伦家一家人中，只有埃德蒙看得出这门亲事还有缺陷，不管姨妈再怎么称赞，他都不觉得拉什沃思先生是个理想的伴侣。他承认，妹妹的幸福只有妹妹自己最有数，可他并不赞成她把幸福都押在大笔的收入上。他跟拉什沃思先生在一起的时候，心里情不自禁地在想：“这个人若不是一年有一万两千英镑的收入，说不定是个很蠢的家伙。”
然而，托马斯爵士对于这桩亲事却感到由衷的高兴，因为这门亲事对他家无疑是有利的，再说他从信上获悉的全是好的一面，令人满意的一面。这是一门再合适不过的亲事，两家同在一个地方，又门当户对，于是他以尽可能快的速度，向家里表示竭诚的赞同。他只提出了一个条件，婚礼要等他回来后再举行，因此便再次急巴巴地盼望回归。他是4月份写的信，满心指望能在夏季结束之前将一切事情办妥，离开安提瓜回国。
7月份正当事情发展到这个地步，范妮刚满十八岁的时候，村里的交际场上又增添了格兰特太太的弟弟和妹妹，克劳福德先生和克劳福德小姐，格兰特太太的母亲第二次结婚后生下的两个孩子。两人都是拥有大宗财产的年轻人，儿子在诺福克有许多地产，女儿有两万英镑。他们小时候，姐姐总是非常疼爱他们，但是姐姐出嫁不久，母亲又接着去世了，便把他们交给一个叔叔照管。格兰特太太也不认识这位叔叔，因此后来很少见到弟弟妹妹。他们两人在叔叔家感受到了家庭的温暖。克劳福德将军和克劳福德太太尽管在别的事情上总是意见不相吻合，但在疼爱两个孩子上却是一致的，如果说还有什么不一致的地方，那就是两人各宠爱一个。将军喜欢男孩，克劳福德太太溺爱姑娘。克劳福德太太这一去世，她的被保护人在叔叔家又住了几个月之后，不得不另投一个去处。克劳福德将军是个行为不端的人，他想把情妇带到家里来住，而把侄女赶走。正是由于这个原因，格兰特太太的妹妹才提出要投奔姐姐。此举不仅方便了一方，而且也正合另一方的心意。原来，格兰特太太跟住在乡下无儿无女的太太们已经来往够了，她那心爱的客厅早已摆满了漂亮的家具，还养了不少奇花异草、良种家禽，现在很想家里变个什么花样。因此，妹妹的到来使她非常高兴，她一向喜欢这个妹妹，眼下正希望把妹妹留在身边，直至她嫁人为止。她主要担心的是，一个在伦敦待惯了的年轻女士来曼斯菲尔德就怕过不惯。
克劳福德小姐并非完全没有类似的顾虑，不过她所顾虑的，主要是拿不准姐姐的生活派头和社交格调。她先是劝说哥哥和她一起住到他乡下的宅邸里，哥哥不答应，她才决定硬着头皮去投奔别的亲戚。遗憾的是，亨利·克劳福德非常讨厌始终居住在一个地方，局限于一个社交圈子。他不能为了照顾妹妹而做出这么重大的牺牲，不过他还是极其关切地陪她来到北安普敦，而且痛痛快快地答应，一旦她对这个地方感到厌倦，只要告诉他一声，他半个钟头内就把她带走。
这次会面令双方都很满意。克劳福德小姐看到姐姐既不刻板，也不土气——姐夫看上去也还体面，住宅宽敞，陈设齐全。格兰特太太看到她越发疼爱的两位年轻人，仪表着实讨人喜欢。玛丽·克劳福德长得异常俏丽，亨利虽然算不上英俊，但却挺有风度，富于表情。两人的仪态活泼有趣，格兰特太太顿时觉得他们样样都好。她对两人都喜欢，但尤其喜欢玛丽。她从来没能为自己的美貌而自豪，现在却能为妹妹的美貌而骄傲，真让她打心底里高兴。还没等妹妹到来，她就给她物色对象了。她看中了汤姆·伯特伦。一个姑娘拥有两万英镑，而且照格兰特太太看来又那么文雅、那么多才多艺，完全配得上一个男爵的大公子。格兰特太太是个心直口快的热心肠人，玛丽来了还不到三个小时，她就把她的打算告诉了她。
克劳福德小姐听说有这么高贵的一家人家离他们这么近，感到甚为高兴，而她姐姐这么早就为她操心，还给她选择了这么个对象，也都丝毫没有引起她的不快。结婚是她的目标，只要能嫁个称心的人家就行。她在伦敦见过伯特伦先生，知道他的相貌和家庭条件一样，都没有什么可挑剔的。因此，尽管她把姐姐的话当笑话来听，但她还是记住要认真考虑一番。没过多久，格兰特太太又把这个主意告诉了亨利。
“我想到了一个主意，”格兰特太太进一步说道，“能使这件事十全十美。我真想把你们两个都安置在这一带，因此，亨利，我要你娶伯特伦家的二小姐，这姑娘可爱、漂亮、脾气好、有才艺，准能使你非常幸福。”
亨利鞠了个躬，向她道谢。
“亲爱的姐姐，”玛丽说，“你要是能劝说他做出这样的事，使我能与这么聪明的人结成姑嫂，那对我来说可是一件从未有过的快事，不过唯一遗憾的是，你手里没有五六个闺女供你差遣呀。你要想说服亨利结婚，非得有法国女人的口才不可。英国人的全部能耐都已试过了。我有三个眼光很高的朋友先后都迷上了他，她们几个，她们的母亲（都是非常聪明的女人），加上我亲爱的婶婶和我本人，都在煞费苦心地劝他、哄他、诱他结婚，究竟费了多大的劲，你想都想不到啊！你尽可以想象他是个最可怕的调情能手。要是伯特伦家的两位小姐不愿意肠断心碎，就让她们躲开亨利。”
“亲爱的弟弟，我不相信你会这样。”
“是呀，我想你肯定不会相信。你比玛丽来得厚道。你能体谅缺乏经验的年轻人遇事顾虑重重。我生性谨慎，不愿匆匆忙忙地拿自己的幸福冒险。谁也不像我这样看重婚姻。我认为，能有个妻子的福气，正如诗人措辞谨慎的诗句所描写的那样：‘上天最后赐予的最好的礼物’。”①（译者注：①引自弥尔顿《失乐园》第五部第十九行。）
“你瞧，格兰特太太，他多会玩弄字眼，只要看看他嬉皮笑脸的样子。我跟你说吧，他真令人可憎——将军的教育把他宠坏了。”
“年轻人在婚姻问题上怎么说，”格兰特太太说，“我才不当回事儿呢。如果他们扬言不愿意结婚，我只是权当他们没找到合适的对象。”
格兰特博士笑哈哈地赞赏克劳福德小姐自己没有立意不结婚。
“噢！是呀，我丝毫不觉得结婚有什么不好意思的。我愿意让每个人都结婚，只要办得妥当。我不喜欢人们草率从事，不管什么人，什么时候结婚好，就什么时候结婚。”
[ 此帖被narcis在2013-10-27 00:56重新编辑 ] -
Chapter Five
The young people were pleased with each other from the first. On each side there was much to attract, and their acquaintance soon promised as early an intimacy as good manners would warrant. Miss Crawford's beauty did her no disservice with the Miss Bertrams. They were too handsome themselves to dislike any woman for being so too, and were almost as much charmed as their brothers with her lively dark eye, clear brown complexion, and general prettiness. Had she been tall, full formed, and fair, it might have been more of a trial: but as it was, there could be no comparison; and she was most allowably a sweet, pretty girl, while they were the finest young women in the country.
Her brother was not handsome: no, when they first saw him he was absolutely plain, black and plain; but still he was the gentleman, with a pleasing address. The second meeting proved him not so very plain: he was plain, to be sure, but then he had so much countenance, and his teeth were so good, and he was so well made, that one soon forgot he was plain; and after a third interview, after dining in company with him at the Parsonage, he was no longer allowed to be called so by anybody. He was, in fact, the most agreeable young man the sisters had ever known, and they were equally delighted with him. Miss Bertram's engagement made him in equity the property of Julia, of which Julia was fully aware; and before he had been at Mansfield a week, she was quite ready to be fallen in love with.
Maria's notions on the subject were more confused and indistinct. She did not want to see or understand. "There could be no harm in her liking an agreeable man-- everybody knew her situation--Mr. Crawford must take care of himself." Mr. Crawford did not mean to be in any danger! the Miss Bertrams were worth pleasing, and were ready to be pleased; and he began with no object but of making them like him. He did not want them to die of love; but with sense and temper which ought to have made him judge and feel better, he allowed himself great latitude on such points.
"I like your Miss Bertrams exceedingly, sister," said he, as he returned from attending them to their carriage after the said dinner visit; "they are very elegant, agreeable girls."
"So they are indeed, and I am delighted to hear you say it. But you like Julia best."
"Oh yes! I like Julia best."
"But do you really? for Miss Bertram is in general thought the handsomest."
"So I should suppose. She has the advantage in every feature, and I prefer her countenance; but I like Julia best; Miss Bertram is certainly the handsomest, and I have found her the most agreeable, but I shall always like Julia best, because you order me."
"I shall not talk to you, Henry, but I know you _will_ like her best at last."
"Do not I tell you that I like her best _at_ _first_?"
"And besides, Miss Bertram is engaged. Remember that, my dear brother. Her choice is made."
"Yes, and I like her the better for it. An engaged woman is always more agreeable than a disengaged. She is satisfied with herself. Her cares are over, and she feels that she may exert all her powers of pleasing without suspicion. All is safe with a lady engaged: no harm can be done."
"Why, as to that, Mr. Rushworth is a very good sort of young man, and it is a great match for her."
"But Miss Bertram does not care three straws for him; _that_ is your opinion of your intimate friend. _I_ do not subscribe to it. I am sure Miss Bertram is very much attached to Mr. Rushworth. I could see it in her eyes, when he was mentioned. I think too well of Miss Bertram to suppose she would ever give her hand without her heart."
"Mary, how shall we manage him?"
"We must leave him to himself, I believe. Talking does no good. He will be taken in at last."
"But I would not have him _taken_ _in_; I would not have him duped; I would have it all fair and honourable."
"Oh dear! let him stand his chance and be taken in. It will do just as well. Everybody is taken in at some period or other."
"Not always in marriage, dear Mary."
"In marriage especially. With all due respect to such of the present company as chance to be married, my dear Mrs. Grant, there is not one in a hundred of either sex who is not taken in when they marry. Look where I will, I see that it _is_ so; and I feel that it _must_ be so, when I consider that it is, of all transactions, the one in which people expect most from others, and are least honest themselves."
"Ah! You have been in a bad school for matrimony, in Hill Street."
"My poor aunt had certainly little cause to love the state; but, however, speaking from my own observation, it is a manoeuvring business. I know so many who have married in the full expectation and confidence of some one particular advantage in the connexion, or accomplishment, or good quality in the person, who have found themselves entirely deceived, and been obliged to put up with exactly the reverse. What is this but a take in?"
"My dear child, there must be a little imagination here. I beg your pardon, but I cannot quite believe you. Depend upon it, you see but half. You see the evil, but you do not see the consolation. There will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere--and those evil-minded observers, dearest Mary, who make much of a little, are more taken in and deceived than the parties themselves."
"Well done, sister! I honour your _esprit_ _du_ _corps_. When I am a wife, I mean to be just as staunch myself; and I wish my friends in general would be so too. It would save me many a heartache."
"You are as bad as your brother, Mary; but we will cure you both. Mansfield shall cure you both, and without any taking in. Stay with us, and we will cure you."
The Crawfords, without wanting to be cured, were very willing to stay. Mary was satisfied with the Parsonage as a present home, and Henry equally ready to lengthen his visit. He had come, intending to spend only a few days with them; but Mansfield promised well, and there was nothing to call him elsewhere. It delighted Mrs. Grant to keep them both with her, and Dr. Grant was exceedingly well contented to have it so: a talking pretty young woman like Miss Crawford is always pleasant society to an indolent, stay-at-home man; and Mr. Crawford's being his guest was an excuse for drinking claret every day.
The Miss Bertrams' admiration of Mr. Crawford was more rapturous than anything which Miss Crawford's habits made her likely to feel. She acknowledged, however, that the Mr. Bertrams were very fine young men, that two such young men were not often seen together even in London, and that their manners, particularly those of the eldest, were very good. _He_ had been much in London, and had more liveliness and gallantry than Edmund, and must, therefore, be preferred; and, indeed, his being the eldest was another strong claim. She had felt an early presentiment that she _should_ like the eldest best. She knew it was her way.
Tom Bertram must have been thought pleasant, indeed, at any rate; he was the sort of young man to be generally liked, his agreeableness was of the kind to be oftener found agreeable than some endowments of a higher stamp, for he had easy manners, excellent spirits, a large acquaintance, and a great deal to say; and the reversion of Mansfield Park, and a baronetcy, did no harm to all this. Miss Crawford soon felt that he and his situation might do. She looked about her with due consideration, and found almost everything in his favour: a park, a real park, five miles round, a spacious modern-built house, so well placed and well screened as to deserve to be in any collection of engravings of gentlemen's seats in the kingdom, and wanting only to be completely new furnished--pleasant sisters, a quiet mother, and an agreeable man himself--with the advantage of being tied up from much gaming at present by a promise to his father, and of being Sir Thomas hereafter. It might do very well; she believed she should accept him; and she began accordingly to interest herself a little about the horse which he had to run at the B------- races.
These races were to call him away not long after their acquaintance began; and as it appeared that the family did not, from his usual goings on, expect him back again for many weeks, it would bring his passion to an early proof. Much was said on his side to induce her to attend the races, and schemes were made for a large party to them, with all the eagerness of inclination, but it would only do to be talked of.
And Fanny, what was _she_ doing and thinking all this while? and what was _her_ opinion of the newcomers? Few young ladies of eighteen could be less called on to speak their opinion than Fanny. In a quiet way, very little attended to, she paid her tribute of admiration to Miss Crawford's beauty; but as she still continued to think Mr. Crawford very plain, in spite of her two cousins having repeatedly proved the contrary, she never mentioned _him_. The notice, which she excited herself, was to this effect. "I begin now to understand you all, except Miss Price," said Miss Crawford, as she was walking with the Mr. Bertrams. "Pray, is she out, or is she not? I am puzzled. She dined at the Parsonage, with the rest of you, which seemed like being _out_; and yet she says so little, that I can hardly suppose she _is_."
Edmund, to whom this was chiefly addressed, replied, "I believe I know what you mean, but I will not undertake to answer the question. My cousin is grown up. She has the age and sense of a woman, but the outs and not outs are beyond me."
"And yet, in general, nothing can be more easily ascertained. The distinction is so broad. Manners as well as appearance are, generally speaking, so totally different. Till now, I could not have supposed it possible to be mistaken as to a girl's being out or not. A girl not out has always the same sort of dress: a close bonnet, for instance; looks very demure, and never says a word. You may smile, but it is so, I assure you; and except that it is sometimes carried a little too far, it is all very proper. Girls should be quiet and modest. The most objectionable part is, that the alteration of manners on being introduced into company is frequently too sudden. They sometimes pass in such very little time from reserve to quite the opposite--to confidence! _That_ is the faulty part of the present system. One does not like to see a girl of eighteen or nineteen so immediately up to every thing--and perhaps when one has seen her hardly able to speak the year before. Mr. Bertram, I dare say _you_ have sometimes met with such changes."
"I believe I have, but this is hardly fair; I see what you are at. You are quizzing me and Miss Anderson."
"No, indeed. Miss Anderson! I do not know who or what you mean. I am quite in the dark. But I _will_ quiz you with a great deal of pleasure, if you will tell me what about."
"Ah! you carry it off very well, but I cannot be quite so far imposed on. You must have had Miss Anderson in your eye, in describing an altered young lady. You paint too accurately for mistake. It was exactly so. The Andersons of Baker Street. We were speaking of them the other day, you know. Edmund, you have heard me mention Charles Anderson. The circumstance was precisely as this lady has represented it. When Anderson first introduced me to his family, about two years ago, his sister was not _out_, and I could not get her to speak to me. I sat there an hour one morning waiting for Anderson, with only her and a little girl or two in the room, the governess being sick or run away, and the mother in and out every moment with letters of business, and I could hardly get a word or a look from the young lady-- nothing like a civil answer--she screwed up her mouth, and turned from me with such an air! I did not see her again for a twelvemonth. She was then _out_. I met her at Mrs. Holford's, and did not recollect her. She came up to me, claimed me as an acquaintance, stared me out of countenance; and talked and laughed till I did not know which way to look. I felt that I must be the jest of the room at the time, and Miss Crawford, it is plain, has heard the story."
"And a very pretty story it is, and with more truth in it, I dare say, than does credit to Miss Anderson. It is too common a fault. Mothers certainly have not yet got quite the right way of managing their daughters. I do not know where the error lies. I do not pretend to set people right, but I do see that they are often wrong."
"Those who are showing the world what female manners _should_ be," said Mr. Bertram gallantly, "are doing a great deal to set them right."
"The error is plain enough," said the less courteous Edmund; "such girls are ill brought up. They are given wrong notions from the beginning. They are always acting upon motives of vanity, and there is no more real modesty in their behaviour _before_ they appear in public than afterwards."
"I do not know," replied Miss Crawford hesitatingly. "Yes, I cannot agree with you there. It is certainly the modestest part of the business. It is much worse to have girls not out give themselves the same airs and take the same liberties as if they were, which I have seen done. That is worse than anything--quite disgusting!"
"Yes, _that_ is very inconvenient indeed," said Mr. Bertram. "It leads one astray; one does not know what to do. The close bonnet and demure air you describe so well (and nothing was ever juster), tell one what is expected; but I got into a dreadful scrape last year from the want of them. I went down to Ramsgate for a week with a friend last September, just after my return from the West Indies. My friend Sneyd--you have heard me speak of Sneyd, Edmund-- his father, and mother, and sisters, were there, all new to me. When we reached Albion Place they were out; we went after them, and found them on the pier: Mrs. and the two Miss Sneyds, with others of their acquaintance. I made my bow in form; and as Mrs. Sneyd was surrounded by men, attached myself to one of her daughters, walked by her side all the way home, and made myself as agreeable as I could; the young lady perfectly easy in her manners, and as ready to talk as to listen. I had not a suspicion that I could be doing anything wrong. They looked just the same: both well-dressed, with veils and parasols like other girls; but I afterwards found that I had been giving all my attention to the youngest, who was not _out_, and had most excessively offended the eldest. Miss Augusta ought not to have been noticed for the next six months; and Miss Sneyd, I believe, has never forgiven me."
"That was bad indeed. Poor Miss Sneyd. "Though I have no younger sister, I feel for her. To be neglected before one's time must be very vexatious; but it was entirely the mother's fault. Miss Augusta should have been with her governess. Such half-and-half doings never prosper. But now I must be satisfied about Miss Price. Does she go to balls? Does she dine out every where, as well as at my sister's?"
"No," replied Edmund; "I do not think she has ever been to a ball. My mother seldom goes into company herself, and dines nowhere but with Mrs. Grant, and Fanny stays at home with _her_."
"Oh! then the point is clear. Miss Price is not out."
这些年轻人从一开始便相互产生了好感。双方都有不少吸引对方的地方，结识之后，先是依照规矩矜持了一阵，随即便亲热起来。克劳福德小姐的美貌并未引起伯特伦家两位小姐的不快。她们自己就很漂亮，自然不会嫉恨别的女人长得漂亮。一见到她那活泼的黑眼睛，光洁的褐色皮肤，以及整个灵秀模样，她们几乎像两位哥哥一样着迷。她若是人长得高，身姿丰腴，容貌美丽，双方就会更有一番较量。可事实上，她没法与她们相比，她充其量算碍上一个可爱的漂亮姑娘，而她们却是当地最漂亮的青年女子。
她哥哥可不英俊。她们第一次见到他的时候，觉得他真丑，又黑又难看，不过仍不失为一个谦谦君子，言谈挺讨人喜欢。第二次见面时，又发现他不那么很难看了。当然，他确实难看，不过他表情丰富，加上长着一口好牙，身材又那么匀称，大家很快便忘掉了他其貌不扬。等到第三次相会，在牧师住宅一道吃过饭之后，谁也不再说他长得不好看了。事实上，他是两姊妹所见过的最讨人喜欢的年轻人，两人都同样喜欢他。伯特伦小姐订婚以后，他便天公地道地应归朱莉娅。对于这一点，朱莉娅心中十分清楚，小伙子来到曼斯菲尔德还不到一个星期，她就准备跟他坠入爱河了。
玛丽亚对这个问题思想比较混乱，观点也不明确。她也不想去正视，不想搞明确。“我喜欢一个彬彬有礼的人不会有什么妨碍——谁都知道我的情况——克劳福德先生可得把握住自己。”克劳福德先生并非有意铤而走险。两位伯特伦小姐值得他去讨好，也准备接受他的讨好。他起初只有一个目标，就是让她们喜欢他。他并不想让她们深深陷入情网。他虽说有着清醒的头脑，平静的心境，本可以看得清楚一些，心里好受一些，但他却在这两方面给了自己很大的回旋余地。
“姐姐，我非常喜欢两位伯特伦小姐，”那次宴席结束，他把她们送上马车回来时说道。“这两个姑娘很文雅、很可爱。”
“当然是很文雅、很可爱啦。我很高兴听到你这么说。不过你更喜欢朱莉娅。”
“噢！是的，我更喜欢朱莉娅。”
“你真的更喜欢她吗？一般人都认为伯特伦小姐长得更漂亮。”
“我也这么认为。她五官秀丽，我欣赏她的容貌——不过我更喜欢朱莉娅。伯特伦小姐当然更漂亮，我也觉得她更可爱，不过我总会更喜欢朱莉娅，因为你吩咐我这样做的。”
“我不会劝你的，亨利，不过我知道你最后必将更喜欢她。”
“难道我没对你说过，我一开始就更喜欢她吗？”
“况且，伯特伦小姐已经订婚。别忘了这一点，亲爱的弟弟。她已经有主了。”
“是的，我为此而更喜欢她。订了婚的女子总是比没订婚的更可爱。她已经了却了一桩心事，不用再操心了，觉得自己可以无所顾忌地施展全部本事讨得别人的欢心。一个订了婚的小姐是绝对保险的，不会有什么害处。”
“哦，就此而言——拉什沃思先生是个非常好的年轻人，配她绰绰有余。”
“可是伯特伦小姐压根儿不把他放在心上。你就是这样看你这位好朋友的。我可不这样看。我敢说，伯特伦小姐对拉什沃思先生是十分痴情的。谁一提到他的时候，我从她的眼神里看得出来。我觉得伯特伦小姐人很好，既然答应了别人的求婚，就不会是虚情假意的。”
“玛丽，我们该怎么整治他呀？”
“我看还是不要去管他。说也没有用。他最后会上当的。”
“可我不愿意让他上当，我不愿意让他受骗。我要把事情搞得清清白白、堂堂正正。”
“噢！亲爱的——由他自己去，让他上当去吧。上上当也好。我们人人都会卜当，只不过是早晚而已。”
“并不总是在婚姻问题上，亲爱的玛丽。”
“尤其是在婚姻问题上。就现今有幸结婚的人们而言，亲爱的格兰特太太，不管是男方还是女方，结婚时不上当的，一百个人中连一个也没有。我不管往哪儿瞧，发现都是如此。我觉得必然是如此，因为照我看来，在各种交易中，唯有这种交易，要求于对方的最多，而自己却最不诚实。”
“啊！你在希尔街住久了，在婚姻这个问题上没受过什么好的影响吧．。”
“我可怜的婶婶肯定没有什么理由喜欢自己婚后的状况。不过，根据我的观察，婚姻生活是要使心计耍花招的。我知道有许多人婚前满怀期望，相信和某人结婚会有某种好处，或者相信对方有德或有才，到头来发现自己完全受骗了，不得不忍受适得其反的结果！这不是上当是什么呢？”
“亲爱的姑娘，你的话肯定有点不符合事实的地方。请原谅，我不大能相信。我敢说，你只看到了事情的一半。你看到了坏处，但却没有看到婚姻带来的欣慰。到处都有细小的摩擦和不如意，我们一般容易要求过高。不过，如果追求幸福的一招失败了，人们自然会另打主意。如果第一招不灵，就把第二招搞好一些。我们总会找到安慰的。最亲爱的玛丽，那些居心不良的人尽会小题大做，要说上当受骗，他们比当事人自己有过之无不及。”
“说得好，姐姐！我敬佩你这种精诚团结的精神。我要是结了婚，也要这样忠贞不渝。我希望我的朋友们都能如此。这样一来，我就不会一次次的伤心。”
“玛丽，你和你哥哥一样坏。不过，我们要把你们俩挽救过来。曼斯菲尔德能把你们俩挽救过来——而且决不让你们上当。住到我们这里，我们会把你们挽救过来。”
克劳福德兄妹虽然不想让别人来挽救他们，但却非常愿意在这里住下。玛丽乐意目前以牧师住宅为家，亨利同样愿意继续客居下去。他刚来的时候，打算只住几天就走，但他发现曼斯菲尔德可能有利可图，再说别处也没有什么事非要他去不可。格兰特太太能把他们两个留在身边，心里自然很高兴，而格兰特博士对此也感到非常满意。对于一个懒散成性、不愿出门的男人来说，能有克劳福德小姐这样伶牙俐齿的年轻美貌女子做伴，总会感到很愉快，而有克劳福德先生在家做客，就可以有理由天天喝红葡萄酒。
两位伯特伦小姐爱慕克劳福德先生，这是克劳福德小姐感到比什么都高兴的事。不过她也承认，两位伯特伦先生都是很出色的青年，像这样的青年人，即使在伦敦，也很少能在一处碰到两个，况且两人颇有风度，而老大更是风度翩翩。他在伦敦住过很久，比埃德蒙活泼、风流，因此要挑就最好挑他。当然，他身为长子构成了另一个有利条件。克劳福德小姐早就预感到，她理应更喜欢老大。她知道她该这样做。
不管怎样，她还真该觉得汤姆·伯特伦挺可爱。他属于人人喜欢的那种年轻人，他的讨人喜欢比某些更高一级的天赋更易于被人们赏识，因为他举止潇洒，兴致勃勃，交际广泛，还很健谈。他对曼斯菲尔德庄园和准男爵爵位的继承权，决不会有损于这一切。克劳福德小姐不久便意识到，他这个人及条件足够了。经过通盘考虑，她觉得他的条件几乎样样都不错——一座庄园，一座方圆五英里的名副其实的庄园，一幢宽敞的现代修建的房子，位置相宜，林木深掩，完全可以选入王国乡绅宅邸的画集，唯一不足的是家具需要全部更新——两个可爱的妹妹，一个安详的母亲，他自己又那么讨人喜欢——再加上两个有利条件，一是他曾向父亲保证过，眼下不能多赌博；二是他以后将成为托马斯爵士。这都是很理想的，她认为她应该接受他。于是，她便对他那匹将要参加 B 城赛马会的马感起兴趣来。
他们结识后不久，汤姆就得去参加赛马会。家里人根据他平常的行为判断，他一去就得好几个星期才能回来，因此，他是否倾心于克劳福德小姐，很快就能表露出来。他大谈赛马会，引诱她去参加，而且带着悠然神往的热切心情，准备策划一大帮人一起去，不过到头来都是口头说说而已。．
再说范妮，在此期间她在干些什么，想些什么呢？她对两个新来的人是怎么看的呢？天下十八岁的姑娘当中，稂少有像范妮这样的，没有人肯来征求她的意见。她低声细气地、不引入注意地赞赏起克劳福德小姐的美貌来。至于克劳福德先生，虽然两位表姐一再夸赞他相貌堂堂，但她依然觉得他其貌不扬，因此对他绝口不提。她自己引起人们对她的注意，可以从下面的议论中看出个大概。“我现在开始了解你们每个人了，就是不了解普莱斯小姐，”克劳福德小姐和两位伯特伦先生一起散步时说。“请问，她进入社交界了，还是没有进入？我捉摸不透。她和你们一起到牧师住宅来赴宴，似乎是在参加社交活动，然而又那么少言寡语，我觉得又不像在参加社交活动。”
这番话主要是讲给埃德蒙听的，于是埃德蒙答道：“我想我明白你的意思——可是我不想由我来回答这个问题。我表妹已经不再是孩子了。她在年龄和见识上，都已经是大人了，至于社交不社交，我可回答不了。”
“不过总的说来，这比什么都容易判断。两者之间的差别非常明显。人的外貌及言谈举止，一般说来是截然不同的。直到如今，我一直认为对于一个姑娘是否进入社交界，是不可能判断错误的。一个没有进入社交界的姑娘，总是那身打扮，比如说，戴着一顶贴发无边小圆软帽，样子非常娴静，总是一声不响。你尽管笑好了—— 不过我向你担保，事实就是如此——她们这样做有时未免过分了些，但总的来说是非常恰当的。姑娘就应该文静庄重。最让人看不惯的是，刚被引进社交界就换个派头，这往往太突然了。时常在极短的时间里从拘谨沉默一下来个一百八十度大转弯——变得无所顾忌！这可是眼下风气中的缺陷所在。人们不愿意看到一个十八九岁的姑娘一下子就无所不能了——也许你去年见到她时，她简直都不会说话。伯特伦先生，你有时大概见过这样的变化吧。”
“我想我见过。不过你这样说不见得公正。我知道你的用心何在。你是在拿我和安德森小姐开玩笑。”
“才不是呢。安德森小姐！我不知道你指的是谁，说的是什么意思。我一点也不明白。不过，你要是肯告诉我是怎么回事，我也要非常高兴地和你开开玩笑。”
“啊！你还真会应对呀，不过我才不会上那个当呢。你刚才说一个姑娘变了，一定是指安德森小姐。你形容得分毫不差，一听就知道是她。一点不错。贝克街的安德森那家人。你知道吗，我们几天前还谈起他们呢。埃德蒙，你听我跟你说起过查尔斯·安德森。事情的确像这位小姐所说的那样。大约两年前，安德森把我介绍给他一家人的时候，他妹妹还没有进入社交界，我都没法让她开口。一天上午我在他们家等安德森，坐了一个钟头，屋里只有安德森小姐和一两个小姑娘——家庭女教师病了或是逃走了，那做母亲的拿着联系事务的信件不断地进进出出。我简直没法让那位小姐跟我说一句话，看我一眼——没有一点客气的表示——她紧绷着嘴，神气地背对着我！后来，我有一年没有再见到她。那期间她进入了社交界。我在霍尔福德太太家遇见了她——可是记不起她了。她走到我跟前，说是认识我，两眼盯着我把我看得直发窘，还边说边笑，弄得我两眼不知道往哪里看是好。我觉得，当时我一定成了满屋子人的笑柄——显然，克劳福德小姐听说过这件事。”
“这确实是个很有趣的故事，我敢说，这种事情绝非只是发生在安德森小姐一个人身上。这种不正常的现象太普遍了。做母亲的对女儿的管教肯定不得法。我说不准错在哪里。我不敢妄自尊大去纠正别人，不过我的确发现她们往往做得不对。”
“那些以身作则向人们表明女性应该怎样待人接物的人，”伯特伦先生阿谀逢迎地说，“对于纠正她们的错误起着巨大的作用。”
“错在哪里是显而易见的，”不那么会逢迎的埃德蒙说，“这些女孩子没有受过良好的教育。她们从一开始就给灌输了错误的观念：她们的一举一动都是出于虚荣心——她们行为中真正羞涩忸怩的成分，在公开场合抛头露面之前并不比抛头露面之后来得多些。”
“这我可拿不准，”克劳福德小姐犹豫不决地答道。“不，我不能同意你的这种说法。那当然是最羞涩忸怩的表现啦。要是女孩子没有进入社交界之前，就让她们像是已经进入社交界那样神气，那样随随便便，那就要糟糕得多。我就见过这种现象。这比什么都糟糕——实在令人厌恶！”
“不错，这的确会带来麻烦，”伯特伦先生说。“这会让人误入歧途，不知所措。你形容得一点不差的贴发无边小圆软帽和忸怩的神态（形容得再恰当不过了），让你一见就知道该怎么办。去年，有个姑娘就因为缺少你所形容的这两个特征，我被搞得非常尴尬。去年9月——就在我刚从西印度群岛回来——我和一位朋友到拉姆斯盖特去了一个星期。我的这位朋友姓斯尼德——你曾听我说起过斯尼德，埃德蒙。他父亲、母亲和姐姐妹妹都在那里，我跟他们都是第一次见面。我到达阿尔比恩他们的住地时，他们都不在家，便出去寻找，在码头上找到了他们。斯尼德太太，两位斯尼德小姐，还有她们的几个熟人。我按照礼仪鞠了个躬，由于斯尼德太太身边围满了男人，我只好凑到她的一个女儿跟前，回去的路上一直走在她身旁，尽可能地讨得她的好感。这位小姐态度非常随和，既爱听我说话，也爱自己说话。我丝毫不觉得我有什么做得不妥当的地方。两位小姐看上去没什么差别，穿着都很讲究，像别的姑娘一样戴着面纱，拿把阳伞。可后来我才发现，我一直在向小女儿献殷勤，她还没有进入社交界，惹得大女儿极为恼火。奥古斯塔小姐还要等六个月才能接受男人的青睐，我想斯尼德小姐至今还不肯原谅我。”
“这的确很糟糕。可怜的斯尼德小姐！我虽说没有妹妹，但是能体谅她的心情。午纪轻轻就让人看不上眼，一定十分懊丧。不过，这完全是她妈妈的过错。奥古斯塔小姐应该由家庭女教师陪着。这种不加区别一视同仁的做法绝对不行。不过，我现在想知道的是普莱斯小姐的情况。她参加舞会吗？她除了到我姐姐家赴宴以外，还到别处赴宴吗？”
“没有，”埃德蒙答道，“我想她从未参加过舞会。我母亲自己就不好热闹，除了去格兰特太太家以外，从不去别处吃饭，范妮便待在家里陪她。”
“噢！这么说，问题就清楚了。普莱斯小姐还没进入社交界。”
[ 此帖被narcis在2013-10-27 00:58重新编辑 ] -
Chapter Six
Mr. Bertram set off for--------, and Miss Crawford was prepared to find a great chasm in their society, and to miss him decidedly in the meetings which were now becoming almost daily between the families; and on their all dining together at the Park soon after his going, she retook her chosen place near the bottom of the table, fully expecting to feel a most melancholy difference in the change of masters. It would be a very flat business, she was sure. In comparison with his brother, Edmund would have nothing to say. The soup would be sent round in a most spiritless manner, wine drank without any smiles or agreeable trifling, and the venison cut up without supplying one pleasant anecdote of any former haunch, or a single entertaining story, about "my friend such a one." She must try to find amusement in what was passing at the upper end of the table, and in observing Mr. Rushworth, who was now making his appearance at Mansfield for the first time since the Crawfords' arrival. He had been visiting a friend in the neighbouring county, and that friend having recently had his grounds laid out by an improver, Mr. Rushworth was returned with his head full of the subject, and very eager to be improving his own place in the same way; and though not saying much to the purpose, could talk of nothing else. The subject had been already handled in the drawing-room; it was revived in the dining-parlour. Miss Bertram's attention and opinion was evidently his chief aim; and though her deportment showed rather conscious superiority than any solicitude to oblige him, the mention of Sotherton Court, and the ideas attached to it, gave her a feeling of complacency, which prevented her from being very ungracious.
"I wish you could see Compton," said he; "it is the most complete thing! I never saw a place so altered in my life. I told Smith I did not know where I was. The approach _now_, is one of the finest things in the country: you see the house in the most surprising manner. I declare, when I got back to Sotherton yesterday, it looked like a prison-- quite a dismal old prison."
"Oh, for shame!" cried Mrs. Norris. "A prison indeed? Sotherton Court is the noblest old place in the world."
"It wants improvement, ma'am, beyond anything. I never saw a place that wanted so much improvement in my life; and it is so forlorn that I do not know what can be done with it."
"No wonder that Mr. Rushworth should think so at present," said Mrs. Grant to Mrs. Norris, with a smile; "but depend upon it, Sotherton will have _every_ improvement in time which his heart can desire."
"I must try to do something with it," said Mr. Rushworth, "but I do not know what. I hope I shall have some good friend to help me."
"Your best friend upon such an occasion," said Miss Bertram calmly, "would be Mr. Repton, I imagine."
"That is what I was thinking of. As he has done so well by Smith, I think I had better have him at once. His terms are five guineas a day."
"Well, and if they were _ten_," cried Mrs. Norris, "I am sure _you_ need not regard it. The expense need not be any impediment. If I were you, I should not think of the expense. I would have everything done in the best style, and made as nice as possible. Such a place as Sotherton Court deserves everything that taste and money can do. You have space to work upon there, and grounds that will well reward you. For my own part, if I had anything within the fiftieth part of the size of Sotherton, I should be always planting and improving, for naturally I am excessively fond of it. It would be too ridiculous for me to attempt anything where I am now, with my little half acre. It would be quite a burlesque. But if I had more room, I should take a prodigious delight in improving and planting. We did a vast deal in that way at the Parsonage: we made it quite a different place from what it was when we first had it. You young ones do not remember much about it, perhaps; but if dear Sir Thomas were here, he could tell you what improvements we made: and a great deal more would have been done, but for poor Mr. Norris's sad state of health. He could hardly ever get out, poor man, to enjoy anything, and _that_ disheartened me from doing several things that Sir Thomas and I used to talk of. If it had not been for _that_, we should have carried on the garden wall, and made the plantation to shut out the churchyard, just as Dr. Grant has done. We were always doing something as it was. It was only the spring twelvemonth before Mr. Norris's death that we put in the apricot against the stable wall, which is now grown such a noble tree, and getting to such perfection, sir," addressing herself then to Dr. Grant.
"The tree thrives well, beyond a doubt, madam," replied Dr. Grant. "The soil is good; and I never pass it without regretting that the fruit should be so little worth the trouble of gathering."
"Sir, it is a Moor Park, we bought it as a Moor Park, and it cost us--that is, it was a present from Sir Thomas, but I saw the bill--and I know it cost seven shillings, and was charged as a Moor Park."
"You were imposed on, ma'am," replied Dr. Grant: "these potatoes have as much the flavour of a Moor Park apricot as the fruit from that tree. It is an insipid fruit at the best; but a good apricot is eatable, which none from my garden are."
"The truth is, ma'am," said Mrs. Grant, pretending to whisper across the table to Mrs. Norris, "that Dr. Grant hardly knows what the natural taste of our apricot is: he is scarcely ever indulged with one, for it is so valuable a fruit; with a little assistance, and ours is such a remarkably large, fair sort, that what with early tarts and preserves, my cook contrives to get them all."
Mrs. Norris, who had begun to redden, was appeased; and, for a little while, other subjects took place of the improvements of Sotherton. Dr. Grant and Mrs. Norris were seldom good friends; their acquaintance had begun in dilapidations, and their habits were totally dissimilar.
After a short interruption Mr. Rushworth began again. "Smith's place is the admiration of all the country; and it was a mere nothing before Repton took it in hand. I think I shall have Repton."
"Mr. Rushworth," said Lady Bertram, "if I were you, I would have a very pretty shrubbery. One likes to get out into a shrubbery in fine weather."
Mr. Rushworth was eager to assure her ladyship of his acquiescence, and tried to make out something complimentary; but, between his submission to _her_ taste, and his having always intended the same himself, with the superadded objects of professing attention to the comfort of ladies in general, and of insinuating that there was one only whom he was anxious to please, he grew puzzled, and Edmund was glad to put an end to his speech by a proposal of wine. Mr. Rushworth, however, though not usually a great talker, had still more to say on the subject next his heart. "Smith has not much above a hundred acres altogether in his grounds, which is little enough, and makes it more surprising that the place can have been so improved. Now, at Sotherton we have a good seven hundred, without reckoning the water meadows; so that I think, if so much could be done at Compton, we need not despair. There have been two or three fine old trees cut down, that grew too near the house, and it opens the prospect amazingly, which makes me think that Repton, or anybody of that sort, would certainly have the avenue at Sotherton down: the avenue that leads from the west front to the top of the hill, you know," turning to Miss Bertram particularly as he spoke. But Miss Bertram thought it most becoming to reply--
"The avenue! Oh! I do not recollect it. I really know very little of Sotherton."
Fanny, who was sitting on the other side of Edmund, exactly opposite Miss Crawford, and who had been attentively listening, now looked at him, and said in a low voice--
"Cut down an avenue! What a pity! Does it not make you think of Cowper? 'Ye fallen avenues, once more I mourn your fate unmerited.' "
He smiled as he answered, "I am afraid the avenue stands a bad chance, Fanny."
"I should like to see Sotherton before it is cut down, to see the place as it is now, in its old state; but I do not suppose I shall."
"Have you never been there? No, you never can; and, unluckily, it is out of distance for a ride. I wish we could contrive it."
"Oh! it does not signify. Whenever I do see it, you will tell me how it has been altered."
"I collect," said Miss Crawford, "that Sotherton is an old place, and a place of some grandeur. In any particular style of building?"
"The house was built in Elizabeth's time, and is a large, regular, brick building; heavy, but respectable looking, and has many good rooms. It is ill placed. It stands in one of the lowest spots of the park; in that respect, unfavourable for improvement. But the woods are fine, and there is a stream, which, I dare say, might be made a good deal of. Mr. Rushworth is quite right, I think, in meaning to give it a modern dress, and I have no doubt that it will be all done extremely well."
Miss Crawford listened with submission, and said to herself, "He is a well-bred man; he makes the best of it."
"I do not wish to influence Mr. Rushworth," he continued; "but, had I a place to new fashion, I should not put myself into the hands of an improver. I would rather have an inferior degree of beauty, of my own choice, and acquired progressively. I would rather abide by my own blunders than by his."
"_You_ would know what you were about, of course; but that would not suit _me_. I have no eye or ingenuity for such matters, but as they are before me; and had I a place of my own in the country, I should be most thankful to any Mr. Repton who would undertake it, and give me as much beauty as he could for my money; and I should never look at it till it was complete."
"It would be delightful to _me_ to see the progress of it all," said Fanny.
"Ay, you have been brought up to it. It was no part of my education; and the only dose I ever had, being administered by not the first favourite in the world, has made me consider improvements _in_ _hand_ as the greatest of nuisances. Three years ago the Admiral, my honoured uncle, bought a cottage at Twickenham for us all to spend our summers in; and my aunt and I went down to it quite in raptures; but it being excessively pretty, it was soon found necessary to be improved, and for three months we were all dirt and confusion, without a gravel walk to step on, or a bench fit for use. I would have everything as complete as possible in the country, shrubberies and flower-gardens, and rustic seats innumerable: but it must all be done without my care. Henry is different; he loves to be doing."
Edmund was sorry to hear Miss Crawford, whom he was much disposed to admire, speak so freely of her uncle. It did not suit his sense of propriety, and he was silenced, till induced by further smiles and liveliness to put the matter by for the present.
"Mr. Bertram," said she, "I have tidings of my harp at last. I am assured that it is safe at Northampton; and there it has probably been these ten days, in spite of the solemn assurances we have so often received to the contrary." Edmund expressed his pleasure and surprise. "The truth is, that our inquiries were too direct; we sent a servant, we went ourselves: this will not do seventy miles from London; but this morning we heard of it in the right way. It was seen by some farmer, and he told the miller, and the miller told the butcher, and the butcher's son-in-law left word at the shop."
"I am very glad that you have heard of it, by whatever means, and hope there will be no further delay."
"I am to have it to-morrow; but how do you think it is to be conveyed? Not by a wagon or cart: oh no! nothing of that kind could be hired in the village. I might as well have asked for porters and a handbarrow."
"You would find it difficult, I dare say, just now, in the middle of a very late hay harvest, to hire a horse and cart?"
"I was astonished to find what a piece of work was made of it! To want a horse and cart in the country seemed impossible, so I told my maid to speak for one directly; and as I cannot look out of my dressing-closet without seeing one farmyard, nor walk in the shrubbery without passing another, I thought it would be only ask and have, and was rather grieved that I could not give the advantage to all. Guess my surprise, when I found that I had been asking the most unreasonable, most impossible thing in the world; had offended all the farmers, all the labourers, all the hay in the parish! As for Dr. Grant's bailiff, I believe I had better keep out of _his_ way; and my brother-in-law himself, who is all kindness in general, looked rather black upon me when he found what I had been at."
"You could not be expected to have thought on the subject before; but when you _do_ think of it, you must see the importance of getting in the grass. The hire of a cart at any time might not be so easy as you suppose: our farmers are not in the habit of letting them out; but, in harvest, it must be quite out of their power to spare a horse."
"I shall understand all your ways in time; but, coming down with the true London maxim, that everything is to be got with money, I was a little embarrassed at first by the sturdy independence of your country customs. However, I am to have my harp fetched to-morrow. Henry, who is good-nature itself, has offered to fetch it in his barouche. Will it not be honourably conveyed?"
Edmund spoke of the harp as his favourite instrument, and hoped to be soon allowed to hear her. Fanny had never heard the harp at all, and wished for it very much.
"I shall be most happy to play to you both," said Miss Crawford; "at least as long as you can like to listen: probably much longer, for I dearly love music myself, and where the natural taste is equal the player must always be best off, for she is gratified in more ways than one. Now, Mr. Bertram, if you write to your brother, I entreat you to tell him that my harp is come: he heard so much of my misery about it. And you may say, if you please, that I shall prepare my most plaintive airs against his return, in compassion to his feelings, as I know his horse will lose."
"If I write, I will say whatever you wish me; but I do not, at present, foresee any occasion for writing."
"No, I dare say, nor if he were to be gone a twelvemonth, would you ever write to him, nor he to you, if it could be helped. The occasion would never be foreseen. What strange creatures brothers are! You would not write to each other but upon the most urgent necessity in the world; and when obliged to take up the pen to say that such a horse is ill, or such a relation dead, it is done in the fewest possible words. You have but one style among you. I know it perfectly. Henry, who is in every other respect exactly what a brother should be, who loves me, consults me, confides in me, and will talk to me by the hour together, has never yet turned the page in a letter; and very often it is nothing more than--'Dear Mary, I am just arrived. Bath seems full, and everything as usual. Yours sincerely.' That is the true manly style; that is a complete brother's letter."
"When they are at a distance from all their family," said Fanny, colouring for William's sake, "they can write long letters."
"Miss Price has a brother at sea," said Edmund, "whose excellence as a correspondent makes her think you too severe upon us."
"At sea, has she? In the king's service, of course?"
Fanny would rather have had Edmund tell the story, but his determined silence obliged her to relate her brother's situation: her voice was animated in speaking of his profession, and the foreign stations he had been on; but she could not mention the number of years that he had been absent without tears in her eyes. Miss Crawford civilly wished him an early promotion.
"Do you know anything of my cousin's captain?" said Edmund; "Captain Marshall? You have a large acquaintance in the navy, I conclude?"
"Among admirals, large enough; but," with an air of grandeur, "we know very little of the inferior ranks. Post-captains may be very good sort of men, but they do not belong to _us_. Of various admirals I could tell you a great deal: of them and their flags, and the gradation of their pay, and their bickerings and jealousies. But, in general, I can assure you that they are all passed over, and all very ill used. Certainly, my home at my uncle's brought me acquainted with a circle of admirals. Of _Rears_ and _Vices_ I saw enough. Now do not be suspecting me of a pun, I entreat."
Edmund again felt grave, and only replied, "It is a noble profession."
"Yes, the profession is well enough under two circumstances: if it make the fortune, and there be discretion in spending it; but, in short, it is not a favourite profession of mine. It has never worn an amiable form to _me_."
Edmund reverted to the harp, and was again very happy in the prospect of hearing her play.
The subject of improving grounds, meanwhile, was still under consideration among the others; and Mrs. Grant could not help addressing her brother, though it was calling his attention from Miss Julia Bertram.
"My dear Henry, have _you_ nothing to say? You have been an improver yourself, and from what I hear of Everingham, it may vie with any place in England. Its natural beauties, I am sure, are great. Everingham, as it _used_ to be, was perfect in my estimation: such a happy fall of ground, and such timber! What would I not give to see it again?"
"Nothing could be so gratifying to me as to hear your opinion of it," was his answer; "but I fear there would be some disappointment: you would not find it equal to your present ideas. In extent, it is a mere nothing; you would be surprised at its insignificance; and, as for improvement, there was very little for me to do-- too little: I should like to have been busy much longer."
"You are fond of the sort of thing?" said Julia. "Excessively; but what with the natural advantages of the ground, which pointed out, even to a very young eye, what little remained to be done, and my own consequent resolutions, I had not been of age three months before Everingham was all that it is now. My plan was laid at Westminster, a little altered, perhaps, at Cambridge, and at one-and-twenty executed. I am inclined to envy Mr. Rushworth for having so much happiness yet before him. I have been a devourer of my own."
"Those who see quickly, will resolve quickly, and act quickly," said Julia. "_You_ can never want employment. Instead of envying Mr. Rushworth, you should assist him with your opinion."
Mrs. Grant, hearing the latter part of this speech, enforced it warmly, persuaded that no judgment could be equal to her brother's; and as Miss Bertram caught at the idea likewise, and gave it her full support, declaring that, in her opinion, it was infinitely better to consult with friends and disinterested advisers, than immediately to throw the business into the hands of a professional man, Mr. Rushworth was very ready to request the favour of Mr. Crawford's assistance; and Mr. Crawford, after properly depreciating his own abilities, was quite at his service in any way that could be useful. Mr. Rushworth then began to propose Mr. Crawford's doing him the honour of coming over to Sotherton, and taking a bed there; when Mrs. Norris, as if reading in her two nieces' minds their little approbation of a plan which was to take Mr. Crawford away, interposed with an amendment.
"There can be no doubt of Mr. Crawford's willingness; but why should not more of us go? Why should not we make a little party? Here are many that would be interested in your improvements, my dear Mr. Rushworth, and that would like to hear Mr. Crawford's opinion on the spot, and that might be of some small use to you with _their_ opinions; and, for my own part, I have been long wishing to wait upon your good mother again; nothing but having no horses of my own could have made me so remiss; but now I could go and sit a few hours with Mrs. Rushworth, while the rest of you walked about and settled things, and then we could all return to a late dinner here, or dine at Sotherton, just as might be most agreeable to your mother, and have a pleasant drive home by moonlight. I dare say Mr. Crawford would take my two nieces and me in his barouche, and Edmund can go on horseback, you know, sister, and Fanny will stay at home with you."
Lady Bertram made no objection; and every one concerned in the going was forward in expressing their ready concurrence, excepting Edmund, who heard it all and said nothing.
伯特伦先生出发到 B 城去了，克劳福德小姐这可要觉得她们的社交圈子残缺不全了。两家人近来几乎天天聚会，克劳福德小姐这下肯定会由于他的缺席而黯然神伤。汤姆走后不久，大家在庄园里一起吃饭的时候，她仍坐在桌子下首她最喜欢的位置上，做好充分准备去感受由于换了男主人而引起的令人惆怅的变化。她相信，这肯定是一场十分乏味的宴会。与哥哥相比，埃德蒙不会有什么话好说。沿桌分汤的时候，他会无精打采，喝起酒来笑也不笑，连句逗趣的话都不会说，切鹿肉时也不讲起以前一条鹿腿的轶事趣闻，也不会说一个“我的朋友某某人”的逗人故事。她只好通过注视桌子上首的情景，以及观察拉什沃思先生的举动，来寻找乐趣。自从克劳福德家兄妹俩到来之后，拉什沃思先生还是第一次在曼斯菲尔德露面。他刚去邻郡看望过一个朋友，他这位朋友不久前请一位改建专家改建了庭园，拉什沃思先生回来后满脑子都在琢磨这个问题，一心想把自己的庭园也如法炮制一番。虽然很多话说不到点子上，但他还偏爱谈这件事。本来在客厅里已经谈过了，到了餐厅里又提了出来。显然，他的主要目的是想引起伯特伦小姐的注意，听听她的意见。而从伯特伦小姐的神情举止看，虽说她有些优越感，对他毫无曲意逢迎之意，但是一听他提起索瑟顿庄园，加之由此引起了种种联想，她心头不由得涌现出一股得意之感，使她没有表现得过于无礼。
“我希望你们能去看看康普顿，”拉什沃思先生说，“真是完美极啦！我一辈子都没见过哪个庭园变化如此之大。我对史密斯说，变得我一点都认不出来了。如今，通往庭园的路可是乡间最讲究的一条路了。你看那房子令人无比惊奇。我敢说，我昨天回到索瑟顿的时候，它那样子看上去像一座监狱——俨然是一座阴森可怖的旧监狱。”
“胡说八道！”诺里斯太太嚷道。“一座监狱，怎么会呀！索瑟顿庄园是世界上最壮观的乡间古宅了。”
“这座庄园非得改造不可，太太。我这辈子还没见过哪个地方这样需要改造。那副破败不堪的样子，我真不知道怎样改造才好。”
“难怪拉什沃思先生现在会有这个念头，”格兰特太太笑盈盈地对诺里斯太太说。“不过放心好了，索瑟顿会及时得到改造，让拉什沃思先生处处满意。”
“我必须进行一番改造，”拉什沃思先生说，“可又不知道怎么改造法。我希望能有个好朋友帮帮我。”
“我想，”伯特伦小姐平静地说，“你在这方面的最好朋友应该是雷普顿先生①。”（译注：①雷普顿( Humphry Repton，1752-1818)，英国园林设计师。）
“我也是这么想的。他给史密斯干得那么好，我想我最好马上就把他请来。他的条件是每天五几尼。”
“哎，哪怕一天十几尼，”诺里斯太太嚷道，“我看你也不必在意。费用不该成为问题。我要是你的话，就不去考虑花钱多少。我要样样都按最好的样式来做，而且尽量搞得考究些。像索瑟顿这样的庄园，什么高雅的东西都应该有，需要多少钱都应该花。你在那儿有充足的空间可以改造，还有能给你带来丰厚报酬的庭园。就我来说，假如我有索瑟顿五十分之一的那么一块地方，我就会不停地种花植树，不停地改建美化，因为我天生就酷爱这些事情。我现在住的地方只有微不足道的半英亩，如果想在那里有所作为，那未免太可笑了。那样做也太滑稽了。不过，要是地盘大一些，我会兴致勃勃地加以改造，种花植树。我们住在牧师住宅的时候，就做过不少这样的事情，使它跟我们刚住进去时相比，完全变了个样。你们年轻人恐怕不大记得它原来的样子。要是亲爱的托马斯爵士在场的话，他会告诉你们我们都做了哪些改进。要不是因为可怜的诺里斯先生身体不好，我们还会再做些大量的改进。他真可怜，都不能走出房门欣赏外边的风光。这样一来，有几件事托马斯爵士和我本来说过要干的，我也心灰意冷地不去干了。要不是由于这个缘故，我们会把花园的墙继续砌下去，在教堂墓地周围种满树木，就像格兰特博士那样。实际上，我们总在不停地做点改进。就在诺里斯先生去世一年前的那个春天，我们挨近马厩墙种下了那棵杏树，现在长成了一棵大树，越来越枝繁叶茂了，先生，”诺里斯太太这时是对着格兰特博士说的。
“那棵树的确长得很茂盛，太太，”格兰特博士答道。“土质好。只是那杏子不值得去采摘，我每次从树旁走过时都为此感到遗憾。”
“这是一棵摩尔庄园杏，我们是当做摩尔庄园杏买的，花了——就是说，这棵树是托马斯爵士送我们的礼物，不过我看到了账单，知道是用七先令买来的，也就是一棵摩尔庄园杏的价钱。”
“你们上当了，太太，”格兰特博士答道。“那棵树上结的果子所含有的摩尔庄园杏的味道，跟这些土豆所含有的摩尔庄园杏的味道差不多。说它没味道还是往好里说呢。好杏子是能吃的，可我园子里的杏子没一个是可以吃的。”
“其实呀，太太，”格兰特太太隔着桌子对诺里斯太太装做窃窃私语地说，“格兰特博士也不大知道我们的杏子是个什么味道。他简直连尝都没尝过一个，因为这种杏子稍微一加工，就成了非常贵重的果品，而我们的杏子长得又大又漂亮，还没等长熟，我们的厨子就全给摘下来做了果馅饼和果饯。”
诺里斯太太本来脸都红起来了，一听这话心里觉得好受了些。就这样，索瑟顿的改造被别的话题打断了一阵。格兰特博士和诺里斯太太素来不和，两人刚一认识就发生龃龉，而且习惯又截然不同。
原先的话题给打断了一阵之后，拉什沃思先生又重新拾了起来。“史密斯的庄园在当地是人人羡慕的对象。在雷普顿没有接手改造之前，那地方一点都不起眼。我看我要把雷普顿请来。”
“拉什沃思先生，”伯特伦夫人说，“我要是你的话，就种一片漂亮的灌木林。风和日暖的时候，人们都喜欢到灌木林里去走走。”
拉什沃思先生很想向夫人表白愿意听从她的意见，并且趁势对她说点恭维话。但他心里却颇为矛盾，既想表示愿意接受夫人的意见，又想说他自己一直就想这么做，此外还想向所有的太太小姐卖乖讨好，同时表明他最想博得其中一个人的欢心，因此他不知如何是好。埃德蒙建议喝一杯，想以此打断他的话。然而，拉什沃恩先生虽说平时话不多，现在谈起这个心爱的话题，倒是还有话要说。“史密斯的庄园总共不过一百英亩多一点，算是够小的了，可令人越发吃惊的是，他居然把它改造得这么好。而在索瑟顿，我们足足有七百英亩地，还不包括那些水甸。因此我在想，既然雷普顿能做出这样的成绩，我们就用不着灰心。有两三棵繁茂的老树离房子太近，就给砍掉了，景色大为开阔。于是我就想，雷普顿或他这行的随便哪个人，肯定要把索瑟顿林荫道两边的树木砍去，就是从房子西面通到山顶的那条林荫道，这你是知道的，”他说这话时，特意把脸转向伯特伦小姐。可伯特伦小姐觉得，最好还是这样回答他：
“那条林荫道！噢！我记不得了。我对索瑟顿还真不怎么了解。”
范妮坐在埃德蒙的另一边，恰好和克劳福德小姐相对。她一直在专心听人讲话，这时眼望着埃德蒙，低声说道：
“把林荫道旁的树砍去！多可惜啊！这难道不会使你想起考珀①（译注：①考珀( William Cowper，1731-1800)，英国诗人。）的诗句吗？‘你倒下的荫路大树啊，我又一次为你们无辜的命运悲伤。”’
埃德蒙含笑答道：“这些树木恐怕要遭殃了，范妮。”
“我想在树木没有砍掉之前看看索瑟顿，看看那地方现在的样子，看看它那古雅的旧貌。不过，看来我是看不成了。”
“你从没去过索瑟顿吗？是的，你不可能去过。遗憾的是，那地方太远了，又不可能骑马去。希望能想出个办法来。”
“噢！没关系。我以后不管什么时候见到了，你给我讲讲哪些地方是变了样的就行了。”
“我记得听人说，”克劳福德小姐说，“索瑟顿是座古老的宅子，很有些气派。是属于哪种特别式样的建筑呢？”
“那座房子是在伊丽莎白时代建造的，是一座高大周正的砖砌建筑——厚实而壮观，有许多舒适的房间。地点选得不大好，盖在庄园地势最低的地方。这样一来，就不利于改造了。不过，树林倒挺美，还有一条小河，这条小河倒可以很好地利用。拉什沃思先生想把它装扮得富有现代气息．我想是很有道理的，而且毫不怀疑一切会搞得非常好。”
克劳福德小姐恭恭敬敬地听着，心想：“他倒是个很有教养的人，这番话说得真好。”
“我并不想让拉什沃思先生受我的影响，”埃德蒙接着说。“不过，假如我有一座庄园要更新的话，我就不会听任改建师一手包办。我宁愿改建得不那么华丽，也要自己做主，一步一步地改进。我宁愿自己做错了，也不愿让改建师给我做错了。”
“你当然知道该怎么办——可我就不行了。我对这种事既没有眼力，又没有主意，除非现成的东西放在我眼前。假如我在乡下有一座庄园，我还真巴不得有个雷普顿先生能揽过去，收了我多少钱就能给它增加多少美，在没有完工之前，我看都不看它一眼。”
“我倒乐意看到整个工程的进展情况，”范妮说。
“啊——你有这方面的素养，我却没受过这方面的教育。我唯一的一次经历，不是由我喜欢的设计师给的，有了这个经历之后，我就把亲自参加改造看做最讨厌不过的事情。三年前，那位海军将军，也就是我那位受人尊敬的叔叔，在特威克纳姆①（译注：①位于伦敦郊区。）买了一座乡舍，让我们都去那里度夏。我和婶婶欢天喜地地去了，那地方真是美丽极了，可是我们马上就发现必须加以改造。于是接连三个月，周围到处是尘土，到处乱七八糟，没有一条砂砾路可走，没有一条椅子可坐。我希望乡下样样东西应有尽有，什么灌木林啦、花园啦，还有不计其数的粗木椅。不过，建造这一切的时候，必须不用我操心。亨利与我不同，他喜欢亲自动手。”
埃德蒙本来对克劳福德小姐颇有几分倾慕之情，现在听她如此随便地议论她叔叔，心里不免有些不高兴。他觉得她这样做不懂礼数，于是便沉闷不语，直至对方再度露出融融笑脸和勃勃生气，他才把这事暂时搁置一边。
“伯特伦先生，”克劳福德小姐又说，“我终于得到有关我那把竖琴的消息了。我听说完好无损地放在北安普敦。可能在那里已经放了十天了，尽管常常听人一本正经地说是还没到。”埃德蒙表示既高兴又惊讶。“其实呀，我们打听得太直截了当了。先派仆人去，然后我们又亲自去。离伦敦七十英里，那样做是不行的——可今天早上，我们通过正常的途径打听到了。是一个农民看见的，他告诉了磨坊主，磨坊主又告诉了屠户，屠户的女婿传到了那家商店。”
“不管通过什么途径，你总算得到消息了，我感到很高兴。希望别再耽搁下去了。”
“我明天就能收到。不过，你觉得怎么运来好呢？大小马车都不行——噢！不行，村子里雇不到这类的车。我还不如雇搬运夫和手推车呢。”
“今年的草收割得晚，眼下正是大忙的时候，你恐怕很难雇到马和车。”
“我感到惊讶，这件事给搞得多么难啊！要说乡下缺少马和马车，这似乎是不可能的，因此我吩咐女仆马上去雇一辆。我每次从梳妆室里往外看，总会看到一个农家场院，每次在灌木林里散步，都会经过另一个农家场院，所以我心想这马车是一下就能雇到的，只为不能让家家捞到这份好处而感到难过。当我发现我想要的居然是世界上最不合理、最要不到的东西，而且惹得所有的农场主、所有的劳工、所有的教民生气的时候，你猜猜我多么感到意外。至于格兰特博士家的那位管家，我想我最好躲得远远的。而我姐夫那个人，虽然平常对谁都挺和蔼的，但一听说我要雇马车，便对我板起脸来。”
“你以前不可能考虑过这个问题，不过你要是真考虑过了，你会看到收草多么要紧。不管什么时候雇马车，都不会像你想的那么容易。我们的农民没有把马车租出去的习惯。而到了收割的时候，更是一匹马也租不出去的。”
“我会逐渐了解你们的风俗习惯的。可我刚来的时候，心里有一条人人信奉的伦敦格言：有钱没有办不成的事。而你们乡下的风俗是那样顽强，我有点迷惑不解。不过，我明天要把我的竖琴取来。亨利乐于助人，提出驾着他的四轮马车去取。这样运来不是很体面吗？”
埃德蒙说他最喜欢竖琴，希望不久能让他一饱耳福。范妮从未听过竖琴演奏，也非常想听。
“我将不胜荣幸地弹给你们两人听，”克劳福德小姐说。“至少你们愿听多长时间我就弹多长时间，也许弹的时间比你们愿听的时间长得多，因为我非常喜欢音乐，而且一旦遇到知音，弹琴的人总是感到庆幸，心里有说不尽的高兴。伯特伦先生，你给你哥哥写信的时候，请转告他我的竖琴已经运到了，他听我为竖琴的事诉了不少的苦。如果可以的话，还请你告诉他，我会为他归来准备好最悲伤的曲子，以表示对他的同情，因为我料定他的马要输掉。”
“如果我写信的话，我定会悉数照你的意愿来写，不过我眼下还看不出有写信的必要。”
“是呀，我看有这个可能。即使他离家外出一年，要是做得到的话，你会一直不给他写信，他也不给你写信。这就永远看不出有写信的必要。兄弟俩是多怪的人啊！除非到了万分紧急的时候，你们是谁也不给准写信。等到了不得不提笔告诉对方哪匹马病了，或者哪个亲戚死了，写起来也是寥寥数语，短得不能再短。你们这些人全是一个风格，我再清楚不过了。亨利在其他各方面完全像个哥哥，他爱我，有事跟我商量，能对我推心置腹，跟我一谈就是一个小时，可是写起信来从来写不满一张信纸，往往只是这么点内容：‘亲爱的玛丽，我刚刚到达。巴斯似乎到处都是人，一切如常。谨此。’这就是不折不扣的男子汉的风格，这就是做哥哥的写给妹妹的一封完完整整的信。”
“他们远离家人的时候，”范妮说，因为想为威廉辩护，不由得脸红了，“就会写很长的信。”
“普莱斯小姐的哥哥在海上，”埃德蒙说，“他就很善于写信，因此普莱斯小姐觉得你对我们过于尖刻了。”
“她哥哥在海上？当然是在皇家海军啦。”
范妮本想让埃德蒙来介绍哥哥的情况的，但是见他决意沉默不语，只好自己来述说。她说到哥哥的职业以及他到过的外国军港时，声音有些激越，但是说到哥哥已经离家多年时，禁不住两眼泪汪汪的。克劳福德小姐彬彬有礼地祝他早日晋升。
“你了解我表弟的舰长吗？”埃德蒙说。“马歇尔舰长？我想你在海军里有很多熟人吧？”
“在海军将官中，是有不少熟人。可是嘛，”克劳福德小姐摆出一副卓然不凡的气派，“级别低一些的军官，我们就不怎么了解了。战舰的舰长可能是很好的人，但是跟我们没什么来往。至于海军的将官，我倒能给你介绍很多情况：关于他们本人，他们的旗舰，他们的薪水等级，他们之间的纠葛与猜忌。不过，总的说来，我可以告诉你，那些人都不受重视，常受虐待。我住在叔叔家里，自然结识了一帮海军将官。少讲（将）呀，中奖（将）呀，我都见得够多的了。啊，我求你别怀疑我在用双关语①。”（译注：①在英语中，rear admlral是海军少将，vice admiral是海军中将，克劳福德小姐故意用rears和vices来指称“海军少将”和“海军中将”，而这两个词又分别有“尾部”和“罪恶”的意思，故沾沾自喜地称为“双关语”。）
埃德蒙心情又低沉下来，只回答了一句：“这是令高尚的职业。”
“是的，这一行业在两个情况下是不错的：一是发财，二是不乱花钱。不过，一句话说到底，我不喜欢这一行。我对这行从未产生过好感。”
埃德蒙又把话题扯回到竖琴上，又一次说他非常高兴，即将听克劳福德小姐弹琴。
与此同时，其他人还在谈论改造庄园的事。格兰特太太禁不住还要跟弟弟说话，虽然这样做转移了弟弟对朱莉娅·伯特伦小姐的注意力：“亲爱的亨利，你就没什么话要说吗？你就改造过自己的庄园，从我听到的情况来看，埃弗灵厄姆可以与英国的任何庄园比美。我敢说，它的自然景色非常优美。在我看来，埃弗灵厄姆过去一直都很美。那么一大片错落有致的土地，那么漂亮的树林！我多想再去看看啊！”
“听到你有这样的看法，我感到无比高兴，”亨利回答道。“不过，我担心你会感到失望。你会发现它不是你现在想象的那样。就面积而言，它真是不起眼——你会奇怪它怎么这样微不足道。说到改造，我能做的事情太少了，真是太少了——我倒希望有更多的事情让我干。”
“你喜欢干这类事情吗？”朱莉娅问道。
“非常喜欢。不过，由于那地方天然条件好，就连小孩子也能看出，只需做出一些小小的改造，加上我后来确实做了些改进，我成年后还不到三个月，埃弗灵厄姆就变成现在这个样子了。我的计划是在威斯敏斯特制订的——或许在剑桥读书时做了点修改，动工是在我二十一岁的时候。我真羡慕拉什沃思先生还有那么多的乐趣，我可把自己的乐趣一日吞光了。”
“眼光敏锐的人，决心下得快，动作来得快，”朱莉娅说。“你是决不会没事干的。你用不着羡慕拉什沃思先生，而应该帮他出出主意。”
格兰特太太听见了这段话的后半截，竭力表示支持，并且说谁也比不上她弟弟的眼力。伯特伦小姐对这个主意同样很感兴趣，也全力给予支持，还说在她看来，找朋友和与己无关的人商量商量，要比把事情立即交到一个专业人员手里不知强多少。拉什沃思先生非常乐意请克劳福德先生帮忙，克劳福德先生对自己的才能恰如其分地谦虚了一番之后，表示一定尽力效劳。于是拉什沃思先生提出，请克劳福德先生赏光到索瑟顿来，在那里住下来。这时，诺里斯太太仿佛看出两个外甥女不大情愿让人把克劳福德先生从她们身边拉走，因而便提出了一个修正方案。“克劳福德先生肯定会乐意去，可是我们为什么不多去一些人呢？我们为什么不组织一个小型聚会呢？亲爱的拉什沃思先生，这里有许多人对你的改造工程感兴趣，他们想到现场听听克劳福德先生的高见，也可以谈谈自己的看法，说不定对你多少有些帮助。就我个人来说，我早就想再次看望你妈妈，只是因为我没有马，才一直没有去成。现在我可以去跟你妈妈坐上几个钟头，你们就四处察看，商定怎么办，然后我们大家一起回来，吃一顿晚点的正餐，要不就在索瑟顿吃饭，你妈妈也许最喜欢大家在那里进餐。吃完饭后，我们再驱车赶回，做一次愉快的月夜旅行。我敢说，克劳福德先生会让我的两个外甥女和我坐他的四轮马车。妹妹．你知道吧，埃德蒙可以骑马去，范妮就留在家里陪你。”
伯特伦夫人未加反对，每一个想去的人都争相表示欣然同意，只有埃德蒙例外，他从头听到尾，却一言未发。
[ 此帖被narcis在2013-10-27 00:59重新编辑 ] -
Chapter Seven
"Well, Fanny, and how do you like Miss Crawford _now_?" said Edmund the next day, after thinking some time on the subject himself. "How did you like her yesterday?"
"Very well--very much. I like to hear her talk. She entertains me; and she is so extremely pretty, that I have great pleasure in looking at her."
"It is her countenance that is so attractive. She has a wonderful play of feature! But was there nothing in her conversation that struck you, Fanny, as not quite right?"
"Oh yes! she ought not to have spoken of her uncle as she did. I was quite astonished. An uncle with whom she has been living so many years, and who, whatever his faults may be, is so very fond of her brother, treating him, they say, quite like a son. I could not have believed it!"
"I thought you would be struck. It was very wrong; very indecorous."
"And very ungrateful, I think." "Ungrateful is a strong word. I do not know that her uncle has any claim to her _gratitude_; his wife certainly had; and it is the warmth of her respect for her aunt's memory which misleads her here. She is awkwardly circumstanced. With such warm feelings and lively spirits it must be difficult to do justice to her affection for Mrs. Crawford, without throwing a shade on the Admiral. I do not pretend to know which was most to blame in their disagreements, though the Admiral's present conduct might incline one to the side of his wife; but it is natural and amiable that Miss Crawford should acquit her aunt entirely. I do not censure her _opinions_; but there certainly _is_ impropriety in making them public."
"Do not you think," said Fanny, after a little consideration, "that this impropriety is a reflection itself upon Mrs. Crawford, as her niece has been entirely brought up by her? She cannot have given her right notions of what was due to the Admiral."
"That is a fair remark. Yes, we must suppose the faults of the niece to have been those of the aunt; and it makes one more sensible of the disadvantages she has been under. But I think her present home must do her good. Mrs. Grant's manners are just what they ought to be. She speaks of her brother with a very pleasing affection."
"Yes, except as to his writing her such short letters. She made me almost laugh; but I cannot rate so very highly the love or good-nature of a brother who will not give himself the trouble of writing anything worth reading to his sisters, when they are separated. I am sure William would never have used _me_ so, under any circumstances. And what right had she to suppose that _you_ would not write long letters when you were absent?"
"The right of a lively mind, Fanny, seizing whatever may contribute to its own amusement or that of others; perfectly allowable, when untinctured by ill-humour or roughness; and there is not a shadow of either in the countenance or manner of Miss Crawford: nothing sharp, or loud, or coarse. She is perfectly feminine, except m the instances we have been speaking of. There she cannot be justified. I am glad you saw it all as I did."
Having formed her mind and gained her affections, he had a good chance of her thinking like him; though at this period, and on this subject, there began now to be some danger of dissimilarity, for he was in a line of admiration of Miss Crawford, which might lead him where Fanny could not follow. Miss Crawford's attractions did not lessen. The harp arrived, and rather added to her beauty, wit, and good-humour; for she played with the greatest obligingness, with an expression and taste which were peculiarly becoming, and there was something clever to be said at the close of every air. Edmund was at the Parsonage every day, to be indulged with his favourite instrument: one morning secured an invitation for the next; for the lady could not be unwilling to have a listener, and every thing was soon in a fair train.
A young woman, pretty, lively, with a harp as elegant as herself, and both placed near a window, cut down to the ground, and opening on a little lawn, surrounded by shrubs in the rich foliage of summer, was enough to catch any man's heart. The season, the scene, the air, were all favourable to tenderness and sentiment. Mrs. Grant and her tambour frame were not without their use: it was all in harmony; and as everything will turn to account when love is once set going, even the sandwich tray, and Dr. Grant doing the honours of it, were worth looking at. Without studying the business, however, or knowing what he was about, Edmund was beginning, at the end of a week of such intercourse, to be a good deal in love; and to the credit of the lady it may be added that, without his being a man of the world or an elder brother, without any of the arts of flattery or the gaieties of small talk, he began to be agreeable to her. She felt it to be so, though she had not foreseen, and could hardly understand it; for he was not pleasant by any common rule: he talked no nonsense; he paid no compliments; his opinions were unbending, his attentions tranquil and simple. There was a charm, perhaps, in his sincerity, his steadiness, his integrity, which Miss Crawford might be equal to feel, though not equal to discuss with herself. She did not think very much about it, however: he pleased her for the present; she liked to have him near her; it was enough.
Fanny could not wonder that Edmund was at the Parsonage every morning; she would gladly have been there too, might she have gone in uninvited and unnoticed, to hear the harp; neither could she wonder that, when the evening stroll was over, and the two families parted again, he should think it right to attend Mrs. Grant and her sister to their home, while Mr. Crawford was devoted to the ladies of the Park; but she thought it a very bad exchange; and if Edmund were not there to mix the wine and water for her, would rather go without it than not. She was a little surprised that he could spend so many hours with Miss Crawford, and not see more of the sort of fault which he had already observed, and of which _she_ was almost always reminded by a something of the same nature whenever she was in her company; but so it was. Edmund was fond of speaking to her of Miss Crawford, but he seemed to think it enough that the Admiral had since been spared; and she scrupled to point out her own remarks to him, lest it should appear like ill-nature. The first actual pain which Miss Crawford occasioned her was the consequence of an inclination to learn to ride, which the former caught, soon after her being settled at Mansfield, from the example of the young ladies at the Park, and which, when Edmund's acquaintance with her increased, led to his encouraging the wish, and the offer of his own quiet mare for the purpose of her first attempts, as the best fitted for a beginner that either stable could furnish. No pain, no injury, however, was designed by him to his cousin in this offer: _she_ was not to lose a day's exercise by it. The mare was only to be taken down to the Parsonage half an hour before her ride were to begin; and Fanny, on its being first proposed, so far from feeling slighted, was almost over-powered with gratitude that he should be asking her leave for it.
Miss Crawford made her first essay with great credit to herself, and no inconvenience to Fanny. Edmund, who had taken down the mare and presided at the whole, returned with it in excellent time, before either Fanny or the steady old coachman, who always attended her when she rode without her cousins, were ready to set forward. The second day's trial was not so guiltless. Miss Crawford's enjoyment of riding was such that she did not know how to leave off. Active and fearless, and though rather small, strongly made, she seemed formed for a horsewoman; and to the pure genuine pleasure of the exercise, something was probably added in Edmund's attendance and instructions, and something more in the conviction of very much surpassing her sex in general by her early progress, to make her unwilling to dismount. Fanny was ready and waiting, and Mrs. Norris was beginning to scold her for not being gone, and still no horse was announced, no Edmund appeared. To avoid her aunt, and look for him, she went out.
The houses, though scarcely half a mile apart, were not within sight of each other; but, by walking fifty yards from the hall door, she could look down the park, and command a view of the Parsonage and all its demesnes, gently rising beyond the village road; and in Dr. Grant's meadow she immediately saw the group--Edmund and Miss Crawford both on horse-back, riding side by side, Dr. and Mrs. Grant, and Mr. Crawford, with two or three grooms, standing about and looking on. A happy party it appeared to her, all interested in one object: cheerful beyond a doubt, for the sound of merriment ascended even to her. It was a sound which did not make _her_ cheerful; she wondered that Edmund should forget her, and felt a pang. She could not turn her eyes from the meadow; she could not help watching all that passed. At first Miss Crawford and her companion made the circuit of the field, which was not small, at a foot's pace; then, at _her_ apparent suggestion, they rose into a canter; and to Fanny's timid nature it was most astonishing to see how well she sat. After a few minutes they stopped entirely. Edmund was close to her; he was speaking to her; he was evidently directing her management of the bridle; he had hold of her hand; she saw it, or the imagination supplied what the eye could not reach. She
must not wonder at all this; what could be more natural than that Edmund should be making himself useful, and proving his good-nature by any one? She could not but think, indeed, that Mr. Crawford might as well have saved him the trouble; that it would have been particularly proper and becoming in a brother to have done it himself; but Mr. Crawford, with all his boasted good-nature, and all his coachmanship, probably knew nothing of the matter, and had no active kindness in comparison of Edmund. She began to think it rather hard upon the mare to have such double duty; if she were forgotten, the poor mare should be remembered.
Her feelings for one and the other were soon a little tranquillised by seeing the party in the meadow disperse, and Miss Crawford still on horseback, but attended by Edmund on foot, pass through a gate into the lane, and so into the park, and make towards the spot where she stood. She began then to be afraid of appearing rude and impatient; and walked to meet them with a great anxiety to avoid the suspicion.
"My dear Miss Price," said Miss Crawford, as soon as she was at all within hearing, "I am come to make my own apologies for keeping you waiting; but I have nothing in the world to say for myself--I knew it was very late, and that I was behaving extremely ill; and therefore, if you please, you must forgive me. Selfishness must always be forgiven, you know, because there is no hope of a cure."
Fanny's answer was extremely civil, and Edmund added his conviction that she could be in no hurry. "For there is more than time enough for my cousin to ride twice as far as she ever goes," said he, "and you have been promoting her comfort by preventing her from setting off half an hour sooner: clouds are now coming up, and she will not suffer from the heat as she would have done then. I wish _you_ may not be fatigued by so much exercise. I wish you had saved yourself this walk home."
"No part of it fatigues me but getting off this horse, I assure you," said she, as she sprang down with his help; "I am very strong. Nothing ever fatigues me but doing what I do not like. Miss Price, I give way to you with a very bad grace; but I sincerely hope you will have a pleasant ride, and that I may have nothing but good to hear of this dear, delightful, beautiful animal."
The old coachman, who had been waiting about with his own horse, now joining them, Fanny was lifted on hers, and they set off across another part of the park; her feelings of discomfort not lightened by seeing, as she looked back, that the others were walking down the hill together to the village; nor did her attendant do her much good by his comments on Miss Crawford's great cleverness as a horse-woman, which he had been watching with an interest almost equal to her own.
"It is a pleasure to see a lady with such a good heart for riding!" said he. "I never see one sit a horse better. She did not seem to have a thought of fear. Very different from you, miss, when you first began, six years ago come next Easter. Lord bless you! how you did tremble when Sir Thomas first had you put on!"
In the drawing-room Miss Crawford was also celebrated. Her merit in being gifted by Nature with strength and courage was fully appreciated by the Miss Bertrams; her delight in riding was like their own; her early excellence in it was like their own, and they had great pleasure in praising it.
"I was sure she would ride well," said Julia; "she has the make for it. Her figure is as neat as her brother's."
"Yes," added Maria, "and her spirits are as good, and she has the same energy of character. I cannot but think that good horsemanship has a great deal to do with the mind."
When they parted at night Edmund asked Fanny whether she meant to ride the next day.
"No, I do not know--not if you want the mare," was her answer.
"I do not want her at all for myself," said he; "'but whenever you are next inclined to stay at home, I think Miss Crawford would be glad to have her a longer time-- for a whole morning, in short. She has a great desire to get as far as Mansfield Common: Mrs. Grant has been telling her of its fine views, and I have no doubt of her being perfectly equal to it. But any morning will do for this. She would be extremely sorry to interfere with you. It would be very wrong if she did. _She_ rides only for pleasure; _you_ for health."
"I shall not ride to-morrow, certainly," said Fanny; "I have been out very often lately, and would rather stay at home. You know I am strong enough now to walk very well."
Edmund looked pleased, which must be Fanny's comfort, and the ride to Mansfield Common took place the next morning: the party included all the young people but herself, and was much enjoyed at the time, and doubly enjoyed again in the evening discussion. A successful scheme of this sort generally brings on another; and the having been to Mansfield Common disposed them all for going somewhere else the day after. There were many other views to be shewn; and though the weather was hot, there were shady lanes wherever they wanted to go. A young party is always provided with a shady lane. Four fine mornings successively were spent in this manner, in shewing the Crawfords the country, and doing the honours of its finest spots. Everything answered; it was all gaiety and good-humour, the heat only supplying inconvenience enough to be talked of with pleasure-- till the fourth day, when the happiness of one of the party was exceedingly clouded. Miss Bertram was the one. Edmund and Julia were invited to dine at the Parsonage, and _she_ was excluded. It was meant and done by Mrs. Grant, with perfect good-humour, on Mr. Rushworth's account, who was partly expected at the Park that day; but it was felt as a very grievous injury, and her good manners were severely taxed to conceal her vexation and anger till she reached home. As Mr. Rushworth did _not_ come, the injury was increased, and she had not even the relief of shewing her power over him; she could only be sullen to her mother, aunt, and cousin, and throw as great a gloom as possible over their dinner and dessert.
Between ten and eleven Edmund and Julia walked into the drawing-room, fresh with the evening air, glowing and cheerful, the very reverse of what they found in the three ladies sitting there, for Maria would scarcely raise her eyes from her book, and Lady Bertram was half-asleep; and even Mrs. Norris, discomposed by her niece's ill-humour, and having asked one or two questions about the dinner, which were not immediately attended to, seemed almost determined to say no more. For a few minutes the brother and sister were too eager in their praise of the night and their remarks on the stars, to think beyond themselves; but when the first pause came, Edmund, looking around, said, "But where is Fanny? Is she gone to bed?"
"No, not that I know of," replied Mrs. Norris; "she was here a moment ago."
Her own gentle voice speaking from the other end of the room, which was a very long one, told them that she was on the sofa. Mrs. Norris began scolding.
"That is a very foolish trick, Fanny, to be idling away all the evening upon a sofa. Why cannot you come and sit here, and employ yourself as _we_ do? If you have no work of your own, I can supply you from the poor basket. There is all the new calico, that was bought last week, not touched yet. I am sure I almost broke my back by cutting it out. You should learn to think of other people; and, take my word for it, it is a shocking trick for a young person to be always lolling upon a sofa."
Before half this was said, Fanny was returned to her seat at the table, and had taken up her work again; and Julia, who was in high good-humour, from the pleasures of the day, did her the justice of exclaiming, "I must say, ma'am, that Fanny is as little upon the sofa as anybody in the house."
"Fanny," said Edmund, after looking at her attentively, "I am sure you have the headache."
She could not deny it, but said it was not very bad.
"I can hardly believe you," he replied; "I know your looks too well. How long have you had it?"
"Since a little before dinner. It is nothing but the heat."
"Did you go out in the heat?"
"Go out! to be sure she did," said Mrs. Norris: "would you have her stay within such a fine day as this? Were not we _all_ out? Even your mother was out to-day for above an hour."
"Yes, indeed, Edmund," added her ladyship, who had been thoroughly awakened by Mrs. Norris's sharp reprimand to Fanny; "I was out above an hour. I sat three-quarters of an hour in the flower-garden, while Fanny cut the roses; and very pleasant it was, I assure you, but very hot. It was shady enough in the alcove, but I declare I quite dreaded the coming home again."
"Fanny has been cutting roses, has she?"
"Yes, and I am afraid they will be the last this year. Poor thing! _She_ found it hot enough; but they were so full-blown that one could not wait."
"There was no help for it, certainly," rejoined Mrs. Norris, in a rather softened voice; "but I question whether her headache might not be caught _then_, sister. There is nothing so likely to give it as standing and stooping in a hot sun; but I dare say it will be well to-morrow. Suppose you let her have your aromatic vinegar; I always forget to have mine filled."
"She has got it," said Lady Bertram; "she has had it ever since she came back from your house the second time."
"What!" cried Edmund; "has she been walking as well as cutting roses; walking across the hot park to your house, and doing it twice, ma'am? No wonder her head aches."
Mrs. Norris was talking to Julia, and did not hear.
"I was afraid it would be too much for her," said Lady Bertram; "but when the roses were gathered, your aunt wished to have them, and then you know they must be taken home."
"But were there roses enough to oblige her to go twice?"
"No; but they were to be put into the spare room to dry; and, unluckily, Fanny forgot to lock the door of the room and bring away the key, so she was obliged to go again."
Edmund got up and walked about the room, saying, "And could nobody be employed on such an errand but Fanny? Upon my word, ma'am, it has been a very ill-managed business."
"I am sure I do not know how it was to have been done better," cried Mrs. Norris, unable to be longer deaf; "unless I had gone myself, indeed; but I cannot be in two places at once; and I was talking to Mr. Green at that very time about your mother's dairymaid, by _her_ desire, and had promised John Groom to write to Mrs. Jefferies about his son, and the poor fellow was waiting for me half an hour. I think nobody can justly accuse me of sparing myself upon any occasion, but really I cannot do everything at once. And as for Fanny's just stepping down to my house for me-- it is not much above a quarter of a mile--I cannot think I was unreasonable to ask it. How often do I pace it three times a day, early and late, ay, and in all weathers too, and say nothing about it?"
"I wish Fanny had half your strength, ma'am."
"If Fanny would be more regular in her exercise, she would not be knocked up so soon. She has not been out on horseback now this long while, and I am persuaded that, when she does not ride, she ought to walk. If she had been riding before, I should not have asked it of her. But I thought it would rather do her good after being stooping among the roses; for there is nothing so refreshing as a walk after a fatigue of that kind; and though the sun was strong, it was not so very hot. Between ourselves, Edmund," nodding significantly at his mother, "it was cutting the roses, and dawdling about in the flower-garden, that did the mischief."
"I am afraid it was, indeed," said the more candid Lady Bertram, who had overheard her; "I am very much afraid she caught the headache there, for the heat was enough to kill anybody. It was as much as I could bear myself. Sitting and calling to Pug, and trying to keep him from the flower-beds, was almost too much for me."
Edmund said no more to either lady; but going quietly to another table, on which the supper-tray yet remained, brought a glass of Madeira to Fanny, and obliged her to drink the greater part. She wished to be able to decline it; but the tears, which a variety of feelings created, made it easier to swallow than to speak.
Vexed as Edmund was with his mother and aunt, he was still more angry with himself. His own forgetfulness of her was worse than anything which they had done. Nothing of this would have happened had she been properly considered; but she had been left four days together without any choice of companions or exercise, and without any excuse for avoiding whatever her unreasonable aunts might require. He was ashamed to think that for four days together she had not had the power of riding, and very seriously resolved, however unwilling he must be to check a pleasure of Miss Crawford's, that it should never happen again.
Fanny went to bed with her heart as full as on the first evening of her arrival at the Park. The state of her spirits had probably had its share in her indisposition; for she had been feeling neglected, and been struggling against discontent and envy for some days past. As she leant on the sofa, to which she had retreated that she might not be seen, the pain of her mind had been much beyond that in her head; and the sudden change which Edmund's kindness had then occasioned, made her hardly know how to support herself.
“喂，范妮，你现在觉得克劳福德小姐怎么样？”第二天，埃德蒙对这个问题思索了一番以后问道。“你昨天对她喜欢不喜欢？”
“很好啊——我很喜欢。我喜欢听她说话。她使我感到快乐。她漂亮极了，我非常喜欢看她。”
“她的容貌是很招人喜欢，面部表情也很妩媚动人！不过，范妮，你有没有发现她说的话有的不大妥当？”
“噢！是呀，她不该那样说她的叔叔。我当时大为惊讶。她跟她叔叔一起生活了那么多年，这位叔叔不管有什么过错，却非常喜欢她的哥哥，据说待她哥哥就像亲生儿子一样。我不敢相信她会那样说她叔叔！”
“我早知道你会听不惯的。她这样做很不合适——很不合规矩。”
“而且，我还觉得是忘恩负义。”
“说忘恩负义是重了些。我不知道她叔叔是否有恩于她，她婶婶肯定有恩于她。她对婶母强烈的敬重之情把她误引到了这一步。她的处境颇为尴尬。她有这样热烈的感情，加上朝气蓬勃，也就很难在一片深情对待克劳福德太太的同时，难免不使将军相形见绌。我不想妄论他们夫妇俩不和主要应该怪谁，不过将军近来的行为可能会让人站在他妻子一边。克劳福德小姐认为她婶母一点过错都没有，这是合情合理的，说明她为人随和。我不指摘她的看法，但是她把这些看法公诸于众，无疑是不妥当的。”
“克劳福德小姐完全是克劳福德太太带大的，”范妮想了一想说，“出了这么不妥当的行为，难道你不觉得克劳福德太太难辞其咎吗？应该如何对待这位将军，克劳福德太太不可能给侄女灌输什么正确的思想。”
“这话说得有道理。是的，我们必须把侄女的过错视为婶母的过错。这样一来，人们就更能看清克劳福德小姐处于多么不利的环境。不过我认为，她现在这个家定会给她带来好处。格兰特太太待人接物十分得体。克劳福德小姐讲到她哥哥时所流露出的情感是很有意思的。”
“是的，只是抱怨他写信短时除外。她的话逗得我差一点笑出声来。不过，一个做哥哥的和妹妹分别之后，都懒碍给妹妹写一封值得一读的信，我可不敢恭维他的爱心和好性子。我相信，不管在什么情况下，威廉决不会这样对待我。克劳福德小姐凭什么说，你要是出门在外，写起信来也不会长？”
“凭她心性活泼，范妮，不管什么东西只要能使她高兴，或者能使别人高兴，她就会抓住不放。只要没染上坏脾气和粗暴无礼，心性活泼点倒也没有什么不好的。从克劳福德小姐的仪容和言谈举止来看，她脾气一点也不坏，也不粗暴无礼，为人一点不尖刻，也不粗声粗气。除了我们刚才讲的那件事以外，她表现出了不折不扣的女人气质。而在那件事情上，她怎么说都是不对的。我很高兴你跟我的看法是一致的。”
埃德蒙一直在向范妮灌输自己的想法，并且赢得了她的好感，因此范妮很可能跟他有一致的看法。不过在这期间，在这个问题上，却开始出现了看法不同的危险，因为他有点倾慕克劳福德小姐，照此发展下去，范妮就不会听他的了。克劳福德小姐的魅力未减。竖琴运来了，越发给她平添了几分丽质、聪颖与和悦，因为她满腔热情地为他们弹奏，从神情到格调都恰到好处，每支曲子弹完之后，总有几句巧言妙语好说。埃德蒙每天都到牧师住宅去欣赏他心爱的乐器，今天上午听完又被邀请明天再来，因为小姐还就愿意有人爱听，于是事情很快就有了苗头。
一个漂亮活泼的年轻小姐，依偎着一架和她一样雅致的竖琴，临窗而坐，窗户是落地大窗，面向一小块草地，四周是夏季枝繁叶茂的灌木林，此情此景足以令任何男人为之心醉魂迷。这季节，这景致，这空气，都会使人变得温柔多情。格兰特太太在一旁做刺绣也不无点缀作用，一切都显得那么协调。人一旦萌发了爱情，什么东西都觉得有意思，就连那只放三明治的盘子，以及正在尽主人之谊的格兰特博士，也都值得一看。然而，埃德蒙既未认真考虑，也不明白自己在干什么，就这么来往了一个星期之后，便深深地坠入了情网。那位小姐令人赞许的是，尽管小伙子不谙世故．不是长子，不懂恭维的诀窍，也没有闲聊的风趣，可她还是喜欢上了他。她感觉是这样的，虽说她事先未曾料到，现在也难以理解。因为按平常标准来看，埃德蒙并不讨人喜欢，不会说废话，不会恭维人，他的意见总是坚定不移，他献殷勤总是心态平静，言语不多。也许在他的真挚、坚定和诚实中有一种魅力，这种魅力，克劳福德小姐虽然不能进行分析，却能感觉得到。不过，她并不多去想它。现在，他能使她欢心，她喜欢让他跟她在一起，这就足够了。
埃德蒙天天上午都跑到牧师住宅，范妮对此并不感到诧异。假如她能不经邀请，神不知鬼不觉地进去听琴的话，她又何尝不想进去呢。她同样不感到诧异的是，晚上散完了步，两家人再次分别的时候，埃德蒙总觉得该由他送格兰特太太和她妹妹回家，而克劳福德先生则陪伴庄园里的太太小姐们。不过，她觉得这样的交换很不好。如果埃德蒙不在场给她掺和酒水，她宁肯不喝。她有点惊奇的是，埃德蒙天天和克劳福德小姐在一起那么长时间，却再没有在她身上发现他过去曾看到过的缺点，而她自己每逢和她在一起的时候，那位小姐身上总有一种同样性质的东西使她想起那些缺点。不过，实际情况就是如此。埃德蒙喜欢跟她谈克劳福德小姐，他似乎觉得克劳福德小姐再也没有抱怨过将军，这已经满不错了。范妮没敢向他指出克劳福德小姐都说了些什么，免得让他认为自己不够厚道。克劳福德小姐第一次给她带来的真正痛苦，是由于她想学骑马而引起的。克劳福德小姐来到曼斯菲尔德不久，看到庄园里的年轻小姐都会骑马，自己也想学骑马。埃德蒙和她熟悉后，便鼓励她有这样的想法，并主动提出让她在初学期间骑他那匹性情温和的雌马，说什么两个马厩中就数这匹马最适合刚学骑马的人骑。他提这个建议的时候，并不想惹表妹难过，更不想惹表妹伤心：表妹还可照常骑，一天也不受影响。那匹马只是在表妹开始骑之前，牵到牧师住宅用上半个小时。这个建议刚提出的时候，范妮丝毫没有受轻慢之感，而表哥居然征求她的意见，她简直有点受宠若惊了。
克劳福德小姐第一次学骑马很讲信用，没有耽误范妮的时间。埃德蒙把马送过去，并且为之负责到底。他非常守时间，范妮和表姐不在时总跟随着她骑马的那个稳妥可靠的老车夫还没做好出发的准备，他就把马牵来了。第二天的情况就不这么无可指摘了。克劳福德小姐骑马骑到了兴头上，欲罢不能了。她人又活跃，又胆大，虽然个子很小，长得倒挺结实，好像天生就适于骑马。除了骑马本身所具有的纯真乐趣之外，也许还有埃德蒙陪伴指导的缘故，再加上她一开始就进步很快，因而觉得自己大大胜过其他女性。这样一来，她骑在马上就不想下来了。范妮已装束停当，等在那里，诺里斯太太责怪她怎么还不去骑马。可是仍然没有传报马的到来，也不见埃德蒙归来。范妮走了出去，一是想避开姨妈，二是去找表哥。
这两家的住宅虽然相距不足半英里，却彼此不能相望。不过，从前厅门口往前走五十码，她可以顺着庭园往下看去，牧师住宅及其园地尽收眼底，就在村子里大路那边，地势微微隆起。她一眼看到那伙人就在格兰特博士的草地上——埃德蒙和克劳福德小姐两人都骑在马上，并辔而行，格兰特博士夫妇、克劳福德先生，带着两三个马夫，站在那里观看。范妮觉得这些人在一起很高兴——他们的兴趣都集中在一个人身上——毫无疑问都很开心，她甚至都能听到他们的嬉笑之声。这嬉笑声却没法让她开心，她奇怪埃德蒙居然忘记了她，心里不禁一阵酸楚。她目不转睛地望着那片草地，不由自主地瞅着那边的情景。起初，克劳福德小姐和她的骑伴徐步绕场而行——那一圈可真不小。后来，显然是经小姐提议，两人催马小跑起来。范妮天生胆小，眼看克劳福德小姐骑得这么好，感到非常吃惊。过了一会，两匹马全停下来了，埃德蒙离小姐很近，他在对她说话，显然是在教她怎样控制马缰，并且抓住了她的手。范妮看见了这一幕，或者说并非视力所及，而是凭想象捕捉到的。对于这一切，她不必感到奇怪。埃德蒙对谁都肯帮忙，对谁都很和善，这难道不是再自然不过的事情吗？她只是觉得，克劳福德先生完全可以让他省了这份麻烦。他身为做哥哥的，本该由他自己来给妹妹帮忙，这是再合适、再恰当不过了。可是，克劳福德先生虽然给吹得为人敦厚，虽然那么会骑马赶车，但却不大懂得这个道理，和埃德蒙比起来，毫无助人为乐的热忱。范妮开始觉得，让这匹马承受这样的双重负担，未免有些残酷。她自己被人遗忘也就罢了，这匹可怜的马还得有人牵挂才行。
她对这一位和另一位所浮起的纷纭思绪很快平静了一些，因为她看到草地上的人群散了，克劳福德小姐仍然骑在马上，埃德蒙步行跟着。两人穿过一道门上了小路，于是就进了庭园，向她站的地方走来。这时她便担起心来，唯恐自己显得鲁莽无礼，没有耐心。因此，她急不可待地迎上前去，以免他们疑心。
“亲爱的普莱斯小姐，”克劳福德小姐一走到彼此可以听得见的地方便说，“我来向你表示歉意，让你久等了——我没有理由为自己辩解——我知道已经超过时间了，知道我表现得很不好。因此，请你务必要原谅我。你知道，自私应该永远受到原谅，因为这是无法医治的。”
范妮回答得极其客气，埃德蒙随即补充说：他相信范妮是不会着急的。“我表妹即使想比平时骑得远一倍，时间也绰绰有余，”他说。“你叫她晚动身半个小时，她倒因此更舒服了。云彩现在出来了，她骑起来就不会像先前那样热得不好受了。但愿你骑了这么久没把你累着。你还得走回家，你要是不用走回去就好了。”
“跟你说实话，骑在马上一点也不累，”克劳福德小姐一边说，一边由埃德蒙扶着跳下马背。“我很结实。只要不是做我不爱做的事，无论做什么我都没累过。普莱斯小姐，真不好意思让你久等了，我衷心希望你骑得快快活活的，也看望这匹心爱的、讨人喜欢的、漂亮的马样样令你满意。”
老车夫一直牵着他那匹马在一旁等着，这时走过来，扶范妮上了她自己的马，随即几个人便动身朝庭园的另一边走去。范妮回过头来，看见那两个人一起下坡向村里走去，她那忐忑不安的心情并未得到缓解。她的随从夸奖克劳福德小姐骑马多么机灵，自然也不会让她心里好受。克劳福德小姐骑马的时候，他一直在旁边观看，那兴趣和她范妮的兴趣几乎不相上下。
“看到一位小姐骑起马来这么大胆，真是一桩赏心乐事啊！”他说。“我从未见过有哪个小姐骑得这么稳当的。她好像心里一点也不害怕。跟你大不一样啊，小姐。你从开始学骑马到下一个复活节，整整六年了。上帝保佑！托马斯爵士第一次把你放在马背上的时候，你抖得多厉害啊！”
到了客厅，克劳福德小姐也备受赞扬。两位伯特伦小姐十分赏识她那天生的力量和勇气。她像她们俩一样喜欢骑马，一开始就骑得这么好，这一点也像她们俩。两人兴致勃勃地夸赞她。
“我早就知道她肯定会骑得很好，”朱莉娅说。“她天生就适合骑马。她的身材像她哥哥的一样好。”
“是的，”玛丽亚接着说，“她也像她哥哥一样兴致勃勃，像她哥哥一样充满活力。我认为，骑马好不好跟一个人的精神有很大关系。”
晚上道别时，埃德蒙问范妮第二天是否想骑马。
“不，我不知道。如果你要用马，我就不骑了。”范妮答道。
“我自己倒是不会用的，”埃德蒙说。“不过，你下次想待在家里的时候，克劳福德小姐可能想要多骑一些时间——说明了，骑一上午。她很想一直骑到曼斯菲尔德共用牧场那儿，格兰特太太总跟她说那儿风景好，我毫不怀疑她完全可以骑到那儿。不过，随便哪天上午都行。要是妨碍了你，她会十分抱歉的。妨碍你是很不应该的。她骑马只是为了快乐，而你是为了锻炼身体。”
“我明天真的不骑，”范妮说。“最近我常出去，因此宁愿待在家里。你知道我现在身体很好，挺能走路的。”
埃德蒙喜形于色，范妮为此感到宽慰，于是去曼斯菲尔德共用牧场之事，第二天上午便付诸于行动了——一行人中包括所有的年轻人，就是没有范妮。大家显得非常高兴，晚上议论的时候更是加倍的高兴。这类计划完成一项，往往会引出第二项。那些人去过曼斯菲尔德共用牧场之后，都想在第二天去个别的什么地方。还有许多风景可以观赏，虽然天气炎热，但是走到哪里都有阴凉小道。一群年轻人总会找到一条阴凉小道的。一连四个晴朗的上午就是这样度过的：带着克劳福德兄妹游览这个地区，观赏这一带最美的景点。事事如意，个个兴高采烈、喜笑颜开，就连天气炎热也只当笑料来谈——直到第四天，有一个人的快乐心情被蒙上了一层浓重的阴影。此人就是伯特伦小姐。埃德蒙和朱莉娅接到邀请去牧师府上吃饭，而她却被排除在外。这是格兰特太太的意思，是她安排的，不过她倒完全是一片好心，是为拉什沃思先生着想，因为估计这天他可能到庄园来。然而，伯特伦小姐的自尊心受到了严重的损害，她要极力靠文雅的举止来掩饰内心的苦恼和愤怒，直至回到家中。由于拉什沃思先生根本没来，那损害就越发沉重，她甚至都不能向拉什沃思先生施展一下她的威力，以求得一点慰藉。她只能给母亲、姨妈和表妹脸色看，搅得她们在吃正餐和甜点时，一个个全都忧郁不已。
在十点到十一点之间，埃德蒙和朱莉娅走进了客厅，夜晚的空气使得他们面色滋润，容光焕发，心情畅快，与坐在屋里的三位女士样子截然不同。玛丽亚在埋头看书，眼都不抬一下，伯特伦夫人半睡不睡，就连诺里斯太太也让外甥女闹情绪搅得心绪不宁，问了一两声有关宴会的问题，见无人答理，似乎也打定主意不再做声。那兄妹俩一心在称赞这个夜晚，赞美天上的星光，有一阵子心里没有想到别人。可是，等话头第一次断下来的时候，埃德蒙环顾了一下四周，问道：“范妮呢？她睡觉了吗？”
“没有，我想没有吧，”诺里斯太太答道。“她刚才还在这儿。”
从长长的房间的另一端传来范妮轻柔的声音，大家这才知道她在沙发上。诺里斯太太便骂起来了。
“范妮，一个人待在沙发上消磨一个晚上，你这是犯傻呀。你就不能坐到这儿，像我们一样找点事儿干？你要是没有活干，这教堂济贫筐里有的是活给你干。我们上星期买的印花布还都在这儿，动也没动。我剪裁花布差一点把背都累折了。你应该学会想到别人。说实在的，一个年轻人总是懒洋洋地躺在沙发上，这也太不像话了。”
她的话还没说到一半，范妮已回到她桌边的座位上，又做起活来。朱莉娅快活了一天，心情非常好，便为她主持公道，大声叫道：“姨妈，我要说，范妮在沙发上待的时间比这屋里的哪个人都不多。”
“范妮，”埃德蒙仔细地看了她一阵之后说，“我想你一定是犯头痛病了吧？”
范妮无可否认，不过说是不严重。
“我不大相信你的话，”埃德蒙说。“我一看你的脸色就知道了。你病了多长时间啦？”
“饭前不久开始的。没什么，是热的。”
“你大热天的跑出去啦？”
“跑出去！她当然跑出去啦，”诺里斯太太说。“这么好的天气，你想让她待在家里？我们不是都出去了吗？连你母亲都在外边待了一个多小时。”
“的确是这样，埃德蒙，”伯特伦夫人加了一句，诺里斯太太对范妮的厉声斥责把她彻底吵醒了。“我出去了一个多小时。我在花园里坐了三刻钟，范妮在那儿剪玫瑰，确实是很惬意，不过也很热。凉亭里倒挺阴凉的，可是说实话，我真害怕再走回冢。”
“范妮一直在剪玫瑰，是吗？”
“是的，恐怕这是今年最后的一茬花了。可怜的人儿！她也觉得天热，不过花都盛开了，不能再等了。”
“这实在是没有办法呀，”诺里斯太太轻声细语地说。“不过，妹妹，我怀疑她是不是就是那时候得的头痛。站在大太阳底下．，一会儿直腰、一会儿弯腰地剪花，最容易让人头痛。不过我敢说，明天就会好的。你把你的香醋给她喝点，我总是忘带我的香醋。”
“她喝过啦，”伯特伦夫人说。“她第二次从你家回来，就给她喝过了。”
“什么！”埃德蒙嚷道。“她是又剪花又跑路，在大太阳底下穿过庭园跑到你家，而且跑了两次，是吧，姨妈？怪不得她头痛呢。”
诺里斯太太在和朱莉娅说话，对埃德蒙的话置若罔闻。
“当时我怕她受不了，”伯特伦夫人说。“可是等玫瑰花剪完之后，你姨妈想要，于是，你知道，必须把花送到她家去。”
“可是有那么多玫瑰吗，非要叫她跑两趟。”
“没那么多。可是要放在那个空房间里去晾，范妮不巧忘了锁房门，还忘了把钥匙带来，因此她不得不再跑一趟。”
埃德蒙站了起来，在屋里走来走去，说道：“除了范妮，再派不出人干这个差使了吗？说实在话，妈妈，这件事办得非常糟糕。”
“我真不知道怎样办才算好，”诺里斯太太不能再装聋了，便大声叫道，“除非让我自己跑。可我又不能把自己劈成两半呀。当时我正和格林先生谈你母亲牛奶房女工的事，是你母亲让我谈的。我还答应过约翰·格鲁姆替他给杰弗里斯太太写封信，讲讲他儿子的情况，这可怜的家伙已等了我半个钟头。我想谁也没有理由指责我什么时侯偷过懒，但我的确不能同时做几件事。至于让范妮替我到我家里去一趟，那也不过是四分之一英里多一点，我想我要她去没有什么不合理的。我常常不分早晚，日晒雨淋，一天跑三趟，可我一句话也没说过。”
“范妮的气力能顶上你一半就好了，姨妈。”
“范妮如果能经常坚持锻炼，也不会跑这么两趟就垮掉。她这么久没有去骑马了，我认为她不骑马的时候就该走一走。她要是天天骑马的话，我就不会要她跑那一趟。不过我当时心想，她在玫瑰丛中弯那么长时间的腰，走一走反而会对她有好处，因为那种活干累了，走走路最能提精神。再说当时虽然烈日当头，但天气并不很热。咱俩私下里说句话，埃德蒙，”诺里斯太太意味深长地向伯特伦夫人那边点了点头，“她是剪玫瑰和在花园里跑来跑去引起头痛的。”
“恐怕真是这样引起的，”伯特伦夫人比较坦率，她无意中听到了诺里斯太太的话，“我真怕她的头痛病是剪玫瑰时得的，那儿当时能热死人。我自己也是勉强捱得住的。我坐在那儿，叫住哈巴狗，不让它往花坛里钻，就连这也让我差一点受不了。”
埃德蒙不再答理两位太太，闷声不响地走向另一张桌子，桌上的餐盘还没有撤走。他给范妮端了一杯马德拉白葡萄酒，劝她喝下大半杯。范妮本想推辞，怎奈百感交集，热泪盈眶，饮酒下肚比张口说话来得容易。
埃德蒙虽然对母亲和姨妈不满，但他对自己更加气愤。他没把范妮放在心上，这比两位太太的所作所为更为糟糕。如果他适当地考虑到范妮，这种事情就决不会发生。可他却让她一连四天没有选择伙伴的余地，也没有锻炼身体的机会，两个没有理智的姨妈不论叫她做什么事，她都无法推托。一想到接连四天使她失去了骑马的权利，他感到很是惭愧，因此十分郑重地下定决心：尽管他不愿意扫克劳福德小姐的兴，这样的事情再也不能发生。
范妮像她来到庄园的第一个晚上那样心事重重地上床了。她的精神状态可能是她生病的原因之一。几天来，她觉得自己受人冷落，一直在压抑自己的不满和妒忌。她躲在沙发上是为了不让人看见，就在她靠在沙发上的时候，她心头的痛苦远远超过了她的头痛。埃德蒙的关心所带来的突然变化，使她几乎不知道如何支撑自己。
[ 此帖被narcis在2013-10-27 00:23重新编辑 ] -
Chapter Eight
Fanny's rides recommenced the very next day; and as it was a pleasant fresh-feeling morning, less hot than the weather had lately been, Edmund trusted that her losses, both of health and pleasure, would be soon made good. While she was gone Mr. Rushworth arrived, escorting his mother, who came to be civil and to shew her civility especially, in urging the execution of the plan for visiting Sotherton, which had been started a fortnight before, and which, in consequence of her subsequent absence from home, had since lain dormant. Mrs. Norris and her nieces were all well pleased with its revival, and an early day was named and agreed to, provided Mr. Crawford should be disengaged: the young ladies did not forget that stipulation, and though Mrs. Norris would willingly have answered for his being so, they would neither authorise the liberty nor run the risk; and at last, on a hint from Miss Bertram, Mr. Rushworth discovered that the properest thing to be done was for him to walk down to the Parsonage directly, and call on Mr. Crawford, and inquire whether Wednesday would suit him or not.
Before his return Mrs. Grant and Miss Crawford came in. Having been out some time, and taken a different route to the house, they had not met him. Comfortable hopes, however, were given that he would find Mr. Crawford at home. The Sotherton scheme was mentioned of course. It was hardly possible, indeed, that anything else should be talked of, for Mrs. Norris was in high spirits about it; and Mrs. Rushworth, a well-meaning, civil, prosing, pompous woman, who thought nothing of consequence, but as it related to her own and her son's concerns, had not yet given over pressing Lady Bertram to be of the party. Lady Bertram constantly declined it; but her placid manner of refusal made Mrs. Rushworth still think she wished to come, till Mrs. Norris's more numerous words and louder tone convinced her of the truth.
"The fatigue would be too much for my sister, a great deal too much, I assure you, my dear Mrs. Rushworth. Ten miles there, and ten back, you know. You must excuse my sister on this occasion, and accept of our two dear girls and myself without her. Sotherton is the only place that could give her a _wish_ to go so far, but it cannot be, indeed. She will have a companion in Fanny Price, you know, so it will all do very well; and as for Edmund, as he is not here to speak for himself, I will answer for his being most happy to join the party. He can go on horseback, you know."
Mrs. Rushworth being obliged to yield to Lady Bertram's staying at home, could only be sorry. "The loss of her ladyship's company would be a great drawback, and she should have been extremely happy to have seen the young lady too, Miss Price, who had never been at Sotherton yet, and it was a pity she should not see the place."
"You are very kind, you are all kindness, my dear madam," cried Mrs. Norris; "but as to Fanny, she will have opportunities in plenty of seeing Sotherton. She has time enough before her; and her going now is quite out of the question. Lady Bertram could not possibly spare her."
"Oh no! I cannot do without Fanny."
Mrs. Rushworth proceeded next, under the conviction that everybody must be wanting to see Sotherton, to include Miss Crawford in the invitation; and though Mrs. Grant, who had not been at the trouble of visiting Mrs. Rushworth, on her coming into the neighbourhood, civilly declined it on her own account, she was glad to secure any pleasure for her sister; and Mary, properly pressed and persuaded, was not long in accepting her share of the civility. Mr. Rushworth came back from the Parsonage successful; and Edmund made his appearance just in time to learn what had been settled for Wednesday, to attend Mrs. Rushworth to her carriage, and walk half-way down the park with the two other ladies.
On his return to the breakfast-room, he found Mrs. Norris trying to make up her mind as to whether Miss Crawford's being of the party were desirable or not, or whether her brother's barouche would not be full without her. The Miss Bertrams laughed at the idea, assuring her that the barouche would hold four perfectly well, independent of the box, on which _one_ might go with him.
"But why is it necessary," said Edmund, "that Crawford's carriage, or his _only_, should be employed? Why is no use to be made of my mother's chaise? I could not, when the scheme was first mentioned the other day, understand why a visit from the family were not to be made in the carriage of the family."
"What!" cried Julia: "go boxed up three in a postchaise in this weather, when we may have seats in a barouche! No, my dear Edmund, that will not quite do."
"Besides," said Maria, "I know that Mr. Crawford depends upon taking us. After what passed at first, he would claim it as a promise."
"And, my dear Edmund," added Mrs. Norris, "taking out _two_ carriages when _one_ will do, would be trouble for nothing; and, between ourselves, coachman is not very fond of the roads between this and Sotherton: he always complains bitterly of the narrow lanes scratching his carriage, and you know one should not like to have dear Sir Thomas, when he comes home, find all the varnish scratched off."
"That would not be a very handsome reason for using Mr. Crawford's," said Maria; "but the truth is, that Wilcox is a stupid old fellow, and does not know how to drive. I will answer for it that we shall find no inconvenience from narrow roads on Wednesday."
"There is no hardship, I suppose, nothing unpleasant," said Edmund, "in going on the barouche box."
"Unpleasant!" cried Maria: "oh dear! I believe it would be generally thought the favourite seat. There can be no comparison as to one's view of the country. Probably Miss Crawford will choose the barouche-box herself."
"There can be no objection, then, to Fanny's going with you; there can be no doubt of your having room for her."
"Fanny!" repeated Mrs. Norris; "my dear Edmund, there is no idea of her going with us. She stays with her aunt. I told Mrs. Rushworth so. She is not expected."
"You can have no reason, I imagine, madam," said he, addressing his mother, "for wishing Fanny _not_ to be of the party, but as it relates to yourself, to your own comfort. If you could do without her, you would not wish to keep her at home?"
"To be sure not, but I _cannot_ do without her."
"You can, if I stay at home with you, as I mean to do."
There was a general cry out at this. "Yes," he continued, "there is no necessity for my going, and I mean to stay at home. Fanny has a great desire to see Sotherton. I know she wishes it very much. She has not often a gratification of the kind, and I am sure, ma'am, you would be glad to give her the pleasure now?"
"Oh yes! very glad, if your aunt sees no objection."
Mrs. Norris was very ready with the only objection which could remain--their having positively assured Mrs. Rushworth that Fanny could not go, and the very strange appearance there would consequently be in taking her, which seemed to her a difficulty quite impossible to be got over. It must have the strangest appearance! It would be something so very unceremonious, so bordering on disrespect for Mrs. Rushworth, whose own manners were such a pattern of good-breeding and attention, that she really did not feel equal to it. Mrs. Norris had no affection for Fanny, and no wish of procuring her pleasure at any time; but her opposition to Edmund _now_, arose more from partiality for her own scheme, because it _was_ her own, than from anything else. She felt that she had arranged everything extremely well, and that any alteration must be for the worse. When Edmund, therefore, told her in reply, as he did when she would give him the hearing, that she need not distress herself on Mrs. Rushworth's account, because he had taken the opportunity, as he walked with her through the hall, of mentioning Miss Price as one who would probably be of the party, and had directly received a very sufficient invitation for his cousin, Mrs. Norris was too much vexed to submit with a very good grace, and would only say, "Very well, very well, just as you chuse, settle it your own way, I am sure I do not care about it."
"It seems very odd," said Maria, "that you should be staying at home instead of Fanny."
"I am sure she ought to be very much obliged to you," added Julia, hastily leaving the room as she spoke, from a consciousness that she ought to offer to stay at home herself.
"Fanny will feel quite as grateful as the occasion requires," was Edmund's only reply, and the subject dropt.
Fanny's gratitude, when she heard the plan, was, in fact, much greater than her pleasure. She felt Edmund's kindness with all, and more than all, the sensibility which he, unsuspicious of her fond attachment, could be aware of; but that he should forego any enjoyment on her account gave her pain, and her own satisfaction in seeing Sotherton would be nothing without him.
The next meeting of the two Mansfield families produced another alteration in the plan, and one that was admitted with general approbation. Mrs. Grant offered herself as companion for the day to Lady Bertram in lieu of her son, and Dr. Grant was to join them at dinner. Lady Bertram was very well pleased to have it so, and the young ladies were in spirits again. Even Edmund was very thankful for an arrangement which restored him to his share of the party; and Mrs. Norris thought it an excellent plan, and had it at her tongue's end, and was on the point of proposing it, when Mrs. Grant spoke.
Wednesday was fine, and soon after breakfast the barouche arrived, Mr. Crawford driving his sisters; and as everybody was ready, there was nothing to be done but for Mrs. Grant to alight and the others to take their places. The place of all places, the envied seat, the post of honour, was unappropriated. To whose happy lot was it to fall? While each of the Miss Bertrams were meditating how best, and with the most appearance of obliging the others, to secure it, the matter was settled by Mrs. Grant's saying, as she stepped from the carriage, "As there are five of you, it will be better that one should sit with Henry; and as you were saying lately that you wished you could drive, Julia, I think this will be a good opportunity for you to take a lesson."
Happy Julia! Unhappy Maria! The former was on the barouche-box in a moment, the latter took her seat within, in gloom and mortification; and the carriage drove off amid the good wishes of the two remaining ladies, and the barking of Pug in his mistress's arms.
Their road was through a pleasant country; and Fanny, whose rides had never been extensive, was soon beyond her knowledge, and was very happy in observing all that was new, and admiring all that was pretty. She was not often invited to join in the conversation of the others, nor did she desire it. Her own thoughts and reflections were habitually her best companions; and, in observing the appearance of the country, the bearings of the roads, the difference of soil, the state of the harvest, the cottages, the cattle, the children, she found entertainment that could only have been heightened by having Edmund to speak to of what she felt. That was the only point of resemblance between her and the lady who sat by her: in everything but a value for Edmund, Miss Crawford was very unlike her. She had none of Fanny's delicacy of taste, of mind, of feeling; she saw Nature, inanimate Nature, with little observation; her attention was all for men and women, her talents for the light and lively. In looking back after Edmund, however, when there was any stretch of road behind them, or when he gained on them in ascending a considerable hill, they were united, and a "there he is" broke at the same moment from them both, more than once.
For the first seven miles Miss Bertram had very little real comfort: her prospect always ended in Mr. Crawford and her sister sitting side by side, full of conversation and merriment; and to see only his expressive profile as he turned with a smile to Julia, or to catch the laugh of the other, was a perpetual source of irritation, which her own sense of propriety could but just smooth over. When Julia looked back, it was with a countenance of delight, and whenever she spoke to them, it was in the highest spirits: "her view of the country was charming, she wished they could all see it," etc.; but her only offer of exchange was addressed to Miss Crawford, as they gained the summit of a long hill, and was not more inviting than this: "Here is a fine burst of country. I wish you had my seat, but I dare say you will not take it, let me press you ever so much;" and Miss Crawford could hardly answer before they were moving again at a good pace.
When they came within the influence of Sotherton associations, it was better for Miss Bertram, who might be said to have two strings to her bow. She had Rushworth feelings, and Crawford feelings, and in the vicinity of Sotherton the former had considerable effect. Mr. Rushworth's consequence was hers. She could not tell Miss Crawford that "those woods belonged to Sotherton," she could not carelessly observe that "she believed that it was now all Mr. Rushworth's property on each side of the road," without elation of heart; and it was a pleasure to increase with their approach to the capital freehold mansion, and ancient manorial residence of the family, with all its rights of court-leet and court-baron.
"Now we shall have no more rough road, Miss Crawford; our difficulties are over. The rest of the way is such as it ought to be. Mr. Rushworth has made it since he succeeded to the estate. Here begins the village. Those cottages are really a disgrace. The church spire is reckoned remarkably handsome. I am glad the church is not so close to the great house as often happens in old places. The annoyance of the bells must be terrible. There is the parsonage: a tidy-looking house, and I understand the clergyman and his wife are very decent people. Those are almshouses, built by some of the family. To the right is the steward's house; he is a very respectable man. Now we are coming to the lodge-gates; but we have nearly a mile through the park still. It is not ugly, you see, at this end; there is some fine timber, but the situation of the house is dreadful. We go down hill to it for half a mile, and it is a pity, for it would not be an ill-looking place if it had a better approach."
Miss Crawford was not slow to admire; she pretty well guessed Miss Bertram's feelings, and made it a point of honour to promote her enjoyment to the utmost. Mrs. Norris was all delight and volubility; and even Fanny had something to say in admiration, and might be heard with complacency. Her eye was eagerly taking in everything within her reach; and after being at some pains to get a view of the house, and observing that "it was a sort of building which she could not look at but with respect," she added, "Now, where is the avenue? The house fronts the east, I perceive. The avenue, therefore, must be at the back of it. Mr. Rushworth talked of the west front."
"Yes, it is exactly behind the house; begins at a little distance, and ascends for half a mile to the extremity of the grounds. You may see something of it here-- something of the more distant trees. It is oak entirely."
Miss Bertram could now speak with decided information of what she had known nothing about when Mr. Rushworth had asked her opinion; and her spirits were in as happy a flutter as vanity and pride could furnish, when they drove up to the spacious stone steps before the principal entrance.
就在第二天，范妮又开始骑马了。这是个清新宜人的早晨，天气没有前几天那么热，因此埃德蒙心想，表妹在健康和玩乐方面的损失很快便会得到补偿。范妮走后，拉什沃思先生陪着他母亲来了。他母亲是为礼貌而来的，特别是来显示一下她多么讲究礼貌。本来，两个星期前就提出了去索瑟顿游玩的计划，可后来由于她不在家，计划一直搁置到现在。她这次来就是催促大家执行计划的。诺里斯太太和她的两位外甥女听到又重新提出这项计划，心里不胜欢喜，于是大家都同意早日动身，并且确定了日期，就看克劳福德先生能否抽出身来。姑娘们并没有忘记这个前提。虽然诺里斯太太很想说克劳福德先生抽得出身来，但她们既不想让她随便做主，自己也不愿冒昧乱说。最后，经伯特伦小姐提示，拉什沃思先生发现，最妥当的办法是由他直接到牧师府上去面见克劳福德先生，问一问礼拜三对他是否合适。
拉什沃思先生还没回来，格兰特太太和克劳福德小姐便进来了。她们俩出去了一阵，回来时跟拉什沃思先生走的不是一条路，因而没有遇见他。不过她们安慰众人说，拉什沃思先生会在牧师府上见到克劳福德先生的。当然，大家又谈起了索瑟顿之行。实际上，别的话题也很难插进来，因为诺里斯太太对索瑟顿之行兴致勃勃，而拉什沃思太太又是个心肠好、懂礼貌、套话多、讲排场的女人，只要是与她自己和她儿子有关的事情，她都很看重，因而一直在不懈地劝说伯特伦夫人，要她和大家一起去。伯特伦夫人一再表示不想去，但她拒绝起来态度比较温和，拉什沃思太太依然认为她想去，后来还是诺里斯太太提高嗓门讲的一席话，才使她相信伯特伦夫人讲的是实话。
“我妹妹受不了那份劳累，请相信我，亲爱的拉什沃思太太，她一点也受不了。你知道，一去十英里，回来又是十英里。这一次你就不要勉强我妹妹了，就让两个姑娘和我自己去，她就免了吧。索瑟顿是唯一能激起她的欲望，肯跑那么远去看一看的地方，可她实在去不了呀。你知道，她有范妮·普莱斯和她做伴，因此丝毫不会有什么问题。至于埃德蒙，他人不在没法表达自己的意见，我可以担保他非常乐意和大家一起去。你知道，他可以骑马去。”
拉什沃思太太只能感到遗憾，不得不同意伯特伦夫人留在家里。“伯特伦夫人不能跟着一起去，这是莫大的欠缺。普莱斯小姐要是也能去的话，我会感到无比高兴，她还从来没有去过索瑟顿，这次又不能去看看那地方，真遗憾。”
“你心肠真好，好极了，亲爱的太太，”诺里斯太大嚷道。“不过说到范妮，她有的是机会去索瑟顿。她来日方长，只是这次不能去。伯特伦夫人离不开她。”
“噢！是呀——我还真离不开范妮。”
拉什沃思太太满心以为人人都想去索瑟顿看看，于是下一步便想把克劳福德小姐加入被邀请之列。格兰特太太虽然在拉什沃思太太来到这一带之后，还一直没有去拜访过她，但她还是客客气气地谢绝了对她本人的邀请，不过她倒乐于为妹妹赢得快乐的机会。经过一番劝说和鼓动，玛丽没过多久便接受了邀请。拉什沃思先生从牧师府上凯旋而归。埃德蒙回来得正是时候，恰好获悉礼拜三之行已经谈妥，同时可以把拉什沃思太太送到车前，然后陪格兰特太太姐妹二人走了庭园的一半路程。
埃德蒙回到早餐厅时，诺里斯太太正在琢磨克劳福德小姐跟着一块去好还是不好，她哥哥的四轮马车再加上她是否坐得下。两位伯特伦小姐笑她过虑了，对她安慰说，四轮马车不算赶车人的座位，可以宽宽余余地坐四个人，而赶车人的座位上，还可以再坐一个人。
“不过，”埃德蒙说，“为什么要用克劳福德的车，为什么只用他的车？为什么不用我母亲的车？几天前第一次提到这个计划时，我就不明白自家人外出为什么不坐自家的车？”
“什么！”朱莉娅嚷道，“这么热的天，四轮马车里有空位不坐，却叫我们三人挤在驿车里！不，亲爱的埃德蒙，那可不成。”
“再说，”玛丽亚说，“我知道，克劳福德先生一心想让我们坐他的车。根据当初商量的结果，他会认为这已是说定的事情。”
“亲爱的埃德蒙，”诺里斯太太补充说，“一辆车坐得下却要用两辆车，真是多此一举。咱们私下里说句话，车夫不喜欢这儿与索瑟顿之间的路，他总是气呼呼地抱怨那些狭窄的乡间小道两边的篱笆刮坏了他的车。你知道，谁也不愿意亲爱的托马斯爵士回来发现车上的漆都刮掉了。”
”这不是要用克劳福德先生的马车的正当理由，”玛丽亚说。“其实呀，威尔科克斯是个笨头笨脑的老家伙，根本不会赶车。我敢担保，礼拜三我们不会因为路窄遇到什么麻烦。”
“我想，坐在赶车人的座位上，”埃德蒙说，“也没有什么苦的，没有什么不舒服的。”
“不舒服！”玛丽亚嚷道。“噢！我相信人人都认为那是最好的座位。要看沿途的风景，哪个座位都比不上它。很有可能克劳福德小姐自己就挑那个座位。”
“那就没有理由不让范妮跟你们一起去。车上不会没有范妮的位子。”
“范妮！”诺里斯太太重复了一声。“亲爱的埃德蒙，我们压根儿没考虑她跟我们去。她留下来陪二姨妈。我对拉什沃思太太说过了，都知道她不去。”
“妈妈，”埃德蒙对他母亲说道，“你除了为你自己，为你自己的舒适以外，我想不出还会有什么理由不愿让范妮和我们一起去。如果你离得开她的话，就不会想要把她留在家里吧？”
“当然不会，可我真离不开她。”
“如果我留在家里陪你的话，你就离得开她了。我打算留下来。”
众人一听都发出一声惊叫。“是的，”埃德蒙接着说，“我没有必要去，我打算留在家里。范妮很想去索瑟顿看看。我知道她非常想去。她并不常有这样的快乐，我相信，妈妈，你一定会乐意让她享受这次的乐趣吧？”
“噢！是的，非常乐意，只要你大姨妈没意见就行。”
诺里斯太太马上就端出了她仅剩的一条反对理由，即她们已向拉什沃思太太说定范妮不能去，如果再带范妮去会让人感到不可思议，她觉得事情很难办。这会让人感到再奇怪不过啦！这样做太唐突无礼，简直是对拉什沃思太太的不敬，而拉什沃思太太是富有教养和讲究礼貌的典范，她确实难以接受这样的做法。诺里斯太太并不喜玫范妮，什么时候都不想为她寻求快乐，不过这次她之所以反对埃德蒙的意见，主要因为事情是她安排的，她可偏爱她自己安排的计划啦。她觉得她把一切安排得十分妥帖，任何改变都不如原来的安排。埃德蒙趁姨妈愿意听他讲话的机会告诉她，她无须担心拉什沃思太太会有什么意见，他送拉什沃思太太走过前厅时，曾趁机向她提出普莱斯小姐可能跟大家一起去，并当即替表妹接到了正式邀请。这时，诺里斯太太大为气恼，不肯好声好气地认输，只是说：“挺好，挺好，你想怎么着就怎么着，由你看着办吧，我想我也不在意啦。”
“我觉得很奇怪，”玛丽亚说，“不让范妮留在家里，你却要留在家里。”
“我想她一定非常感激你，”朱莉娅加了一句，一边匆匆离开房间，因为她意识到范妮应主动提出自己留在家里。
“范妮需要感激的时候自然会感激的，”埃德蒙只回答了这么一句，这件事便撇下不提了。
范妮听了这一安排之后，其实心里的感激之情要大大超过喜悦之情。埃德蒙的这番好意使她万分感动，埃德蒙因为没有察觉她对他的依恋之情，便也体会不到她会如此铭感之深。不过，埃德蒙为了她而放弃自己的游乐，又使她感到痛苦。埃德蒙不跟着一起去，她去索瑟顿也不会有什么意思。
曼斯菲尔德这两户人家下次碰面的时候，对原来的计划又做了一次更动，这次更动得到了大家的一致赞同。格兰特太太主动提出，到那天由她代替埃德蒙来陪伴伯特伦夫人，格兰特先生来和她们共进晚餐。伯特伦夫人对这一安排非常满意，姑娘们又兴高采烈起来。就连埃德蒙也甚感庆幸，因为这样一来，他又可以和大家一起去了。诺里斯太太说，她认为这是个极好的计划．她本来一直想说的，刚要提出来的时候，格兰特太太先说出了。
星期三这天天气晴朗，早饭后不久四轮马车就到了，克劳福德先生赶着车，车里坐着他的两个姐妹。人人都已准备停当，再没有什么要办的事情，只等格兰特太太下车，大家就座。那个最好的位置，那个人人眼红的座位，那个雅座，还没定下谁坐。谁会有幸坐上这个位置呢？两位伯特伦小姐表面上装得很谦让，而心里却在揣摩怎样把它捞到手。恰在这时，这个问题让格兰特太太解决了，她下车时说：“你们一共五个人，最好有一个人和亨利坐在一起。朱莉娅，你最近说过希望自己会赶车，我想这是你学习的好机会。”
好快活的朱莉娅！好可怜的玛丽亚！前者转眼间已坐上驾驶座，后者则垂头丧气、满腹委屈地坐进了车里。随着不去的两位太太的告别声和女主人怀里哈巴狗的汪汪吠声，马车驶走了。
这一路经过一片令人心旷神怡的乡野。范妮骑马从未往远处跑过，因此没过多久，车子已来到她认不出的地方，看着种种新奇的景色，欣赏着种种旖旎的风光，心里不胜高兴。别人讲话也不怎么邀她参加，她也不愿意参加。她自己的心思和想法往往是她最好的伴侣。她在观察乡野风貌、道路状况、土质差异、收割情形、村舍、牲畜、孩子们时，感到兴味盎然，假如埃德蒙坐在身旁，听她说说心里的感受，那可真要快乐到极点。这是她和邻座的那位小姐唯一相像的地方。除了敬重埃德蒙之外，克劳福德小姐处处都与她不同。她没有范妮那种高雅的情趣、敏锐的心性、细腻的情感。她眼看着自然，无生命的自然，而无所察觉。她关注的是男人和女人，她的天资表现在轻松活泼的生活上。然而，每当埃德蒙落在她们后面一段距离，或每当埃德蒙驱车爬长坡快要追土她们的时候，她们就会拧成一股绳，异口同声地喊叫“他在那儿”，而且不止一次。
在头七英里的旅程中，伯特伦小姐心里并不舒服，她的视线总是落在克劳福德先生兄妹俩身上，他俩并排坐着不断地说说笑笑。一看到克劳福德先生微笑地转向朱莉娅时那富于表情的半边脸，或是一听到朱莉娅放声大笑，她总要感到恼火，只是害怕有失体统，才勉强没有形诸声色。朱莉娅每次回过头来，总是喜形于色，每次说起话来，总是兴高采烈。“我这儿看到的风光真是迷人，我多么希望你们都能看见呀。”如此等等。可她只提出过一次跟别人换座位，那是马车爬上一个长坡顶上的时候，她向克劳福德小姐提出的，而且只是一番客套话：“这儿突然出现一片美丽的景色。你要是坐在我的位置上就好了，不过我敢说你不会想要我这个位置，我还是劝你快换吧。”克劳福德小姐还没来得及回答，马车又飞快地往前走了。
等马车驶入索瑟顿的势力范围之后，伯特伦小姐的心情比先前好些了。可以说，她是一把弓上拉着两根弦。她的情肠一半属于拉什沃思先生，一半属于克劳福德先生，来到索瑟顿的地域之后，前一种情肠产生了更大的效应。拉什沃思先生的势力就是她的势力。她时而对克劳福德小姐说：“这些树林是索瑟顿的。”时而又漫不经心地来一句：“我相信，这路两边的一切都是拉什沃思先生的财产。”说话的时候，她心里总是得意洋洋。越是接近那座可终身保有的庄园大宅，那座拥有庄园民事法庭和庄园刑事法庭权力的家族宅第，她越发喜不自胜。
“现在吗，克劳福德小姐，不会再有高低不平的路了，艰难的路途结束了，剩下的路都挺好。拉什沃思先生继承了这份房地产以后，把路修好了。村子从这里开始。那些村舍实在寒碜。人们都觉得教堂的那个尖顶很漂亮。令人高兴的是，一般在古老的庄园里，教堂往往紧挨着宅第，可这座教堂离大宅不是很近。教堂的钟声搅得人实在必烦。那儿是牧师住宅，房子显得很整洁，据我所知，牧师和他的妻子都是正派人。那是救济院，是这个家族的什么人建造的。右边是管家的住宅，这位管家是个非常体面的人。我们就快到庄园的大门了，不过还得走将近一英里才能穿过庄园。你瞧，这里的风景还不错的，这片树林挺漂亮的，不过大宅的位置很糟糕。我们下坡走半英里才能到，真可惜呀，要是这条路好一些，这地方倒不难看。”
克劳福德小姐也很会夸奖。她猜透了伯特伦小姐的心思，觉得从颜面上讲自己有责任促使她高兴到极点。诺里斯太太满心欢喜，说个不停，就连范妮也称赞几句，听上去让人飘飘然。她以热切的目光欣赏着所能看到的一切，并在好不容易看到了大宅之后，说道：“这样的房子我一看见就会肃然起敬。”接着又说：“林荫道呢？我看得出来，这房子向东。因此，林荫道一定是在房子后面。拉什沃思先生说过在西边。”
“是的，林荫道确实在房子后面。从房后不远的地方开始，沿坡往上走半英里到达庭园的尽头。你从这里可以看到一点——看到远处的树。都是橡树。”
伯特伦小姐现在讲起来对情况比较了解，不像当初拉什沃思先生征求她的意见时，她还是了无所知。当马车驶到正门前的宽阔石阶时，她的心情由于受虚荣和傲慢的驱使，已经高兴得飘飘欲飞了。
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Chapter Nine
Mr. Rushworth was at the door to receive his fair lady; and the whole party were welcomed by him with due attention. In the drawing-room they were met with equal cordiality by the mother, and Miss Bertram had all the distinction with each that she could wish. After the business of arriving was over, it was first necessary to eat, and the doors were thrown open to admit them through one or two intermediate rooms into the appointed dining-parlour, where a collation was prepared with abundance and elegance. Much was said, and much was ate, and all went well. The particular object of the day was then considered. How would Mr. Crawford like, in what manner would he chuse, to take a survey of the grounds? Mr. Rushworth mentioned his curricle. Mr. Crawford suggested the greater desirableness of some carriage which might convey more than two. "To be depriving themselves of the advantage of other eyes and other judgments, might be an evil even beyond the loss of present pleasure."
Mrs. Rushworth proposed that the chaise should be taken also; but this was scarcely received as an amendment: the young ladies neither smiled nor spoke. Her next proposition, of shewing the house to such of them as had not been there before, was more acceptable, for Miss Bertram was pleased to have its size displayed, and all were glad to be doing something.
The whole party rose accordingly, and under Mrs. Rushworth's guidance were shewn through a number of rooms, all lofty, and many large, and amply furnished in the taste of fifty years back, with shining floors, solid mahogany, rich damask, marble, gilding, and carving, each handsome in its way. Of pictures there were abundance, and some few good, but the larger part were family portraits, no longer anything to anybody but Mrs. Rushworth, who had been at great pains to learn all that the housekeeper could teach, and was now almost equally well qualified to shew the house. On the present occasion she addressed herself chiefly to Miss Crawford and Fanny, but there was no comparison in the willingness of their attention; for Miss Crawford, who had seen scores of great houses, and cared for none of them, had only the appearance of civilly listening, while Fanny, to whom everything was almost as interesting as it was new, attended with unaffected earnestness to all that Mrs. Rushworth could relate of the family in former times, its rise and grandeur, regal visits and loyal efforts, delighted to connect anything with history already known, or warm her imagination with scenes of the past.
The situation of the house excluded the possibility of much prospect from any of the rooms; and while Fanny and some of the others were attending Mrs. Rushworth, Henry Crawford was looking grave and shaking his head at the windows. Every room on the west front looked across a lawn to the beginning of the avenue immediately beyond tall iron palisades and gates.
Having visited many more rooms than could be supposed to be of any other use than to contribute to the window-tax, and find employment for housemaids, "Now," said Mrs. Rushworth, "we are coming to the chapel, which properly we ought to enter from above, and look down upon; but as we are quite among friends, I will take you in this way, if you will excuse me."
They entered. Fanny's imagination had prepared her for something grander than a mere spacious, oblong room, fitted up for the purpose of devotion: with nothing more striking or more solemn than the profusion of mahogany, and the crimson velvet cushions appearing over the ledge of the family gallery above. "I am disappointed," said she, in a low voice, to Edmund. "This is not my idea of a chapel. There is nothing awful here, nothing melancholy, nothing grand. Here are no aisles, no arches, no inscriptions, no banners. No banners, cousin, to be 'blown by the night wind of heaven.' No signs that a 'Scottish monarch sleeps below.'"
"You forget, Fanny, how lately all this has been built, and for how confined a purpose, compared with the old chapels of castles and monasteries. It was only for the private use of the family. They have been buried, I suppose, in the parish church. _There_ you must look for the banners and the achievements."
"It was foolish of me not to think of all that; but I am disappointed."
Mrs. Rushworth began her relation. "This chapel was fitted up as you see it, in James the Second's time. Before that period, as I understand, the pews were only wainscot; and there is some reason to think that the linings and cushions of the pulpit and family seat were only purple cloth; but this is not quite certain. It is a handsome chapel, and was formerly in constant use both morning and evening. Prayers were always read in it by the domestic chaplain, within the memory of many; but the late Mr. Rushworth left it off."
"Every generation has its improvements," said Miss Crawford, with a smile, to Edmund.
Mrs. Rushworth was gone to repeat her lesson to Mr. Crawford; and Edmund, Fanny, and Miss Crawford remained in a cluster together.
"It is a pity," cried Fanny, "that the custom should have been discontinued. It was a valuable part of former times. There is something in a chapel and chaplain so much in character with a great house, with one's ideas of what such a household should be! A whole family assembling regularly for the purpose of prayer is fine!"
"Very fine indeed," said Miss Crawford, laughing. "It must do the heads of the family a great deal of good to force all the poor housemaids and footmen to leave business and pleasure, and say their prayers here twice a day, while they are inventing excuses themselves for staying away."
"_That_ is hardly Fanny's idea of a family assembling," said Edmund. "If the master and mistress do _not_ attend themselves, there must be more harm than good in the custom."
"At any rate, it is safer to leave people to their own devices on such subjects. Everybody likes to go their own way--to chuse their own time and manner of devotion. The obligation of attendance, the formality, the restraint, the length of time--altogether it is a formidable thing, and what nobody likes; and if the good people who used to kneel and gape in that gallery could have foreseen that the time would ever come when men and women might lie another ten minutes in bed, when they woke with a headache, without danger of reprobation, because chapel was missed, they would have jumped with joy and envy. Cannot you imagine with what unwilling feelings the former belles of the house of Rushworth did many a time repair to this chapel? The young Mrs. Eleanors and Mrs. Bridgets-- starched up into seeming piety, but with heads full of something very different--especially if the poor chaplain were not worth looking at--and, in those days, I fancy parsons were very inferior even to what they are now."
For a few moments she was unanswered. Fanny coloured and looked at Edmund, but felt too angry for speech; and he needed a little recollection before he could say, "Your lively mind can hardly be serious even on serious subjects. You have given us an amusing sketch, and human nature cannot say it was not so. We must all feel _at_ _times_ the difficulty of fixing our thoughts as we could wish; but if you are supposing it a frequent thing, that is to say, a weakness grown into a habit from neglect, what could be expected from the _private_ devotions of such persons? Do you think the minds which are suffered, which are indulged in wanderings in a chapel, would be more collected in a closet?"
"Yes, very likely. They would have two chances at least in their favour. There would be less to distract the attention from without, and it would not be tried so long."
"The mind which does not struggle against itself under _one_ circumstance, would find objects to distract it in the _other_, I believe; and the influence of the place and of example may often rouse better feelings than are begun with. The greater length of the service, however, I admit to be sometimes too hard a stretch upon the mind. One wishes it were not so; but I have not yet left Oxford long enough to forget what chapel prayers are."
While this was passing, the rest of the party being scattered about the chapel, Julia called Mr. Crawford's attention to her sister, by saying, "Do look at Mr. Rushworth and Maria, standing side by side, exactly as if the ceremony were going to be performed. Have not they completely the air of it?"
Mr. Crawford smiled his acquiescence, and stepping forward to Maria, said, in a voice which she only could hear, "I do not like to see Miss Bertram so near the altar."
Starting, the lady instinctively moved a step or two, but recovering herself in a moment, affected to laugh, and asked him, in a tone not much louder, "If he would give her away?"
"I am afraid I should do it very awkwardly," was his reply, with a look of meaning.
Julia, joining them at the moment, carried on the joke.
"Upon my word, it is really a pity that it should not take place directly, if we had but a proper licence, for here we are altogether, and nothing in the world could be more snug and pleasant." And she talked and laughed about it with so little caution as to catch the comprehension of Mr. Rushworth and his mother, and expose her sister to the whispered gallantries of her lover, while Mrs. Rushworth spoke with proper smiles and dignity of its being a most happy event to her whenever it took place.
"If Edmund were but in orders!" cried Julia, and running to where he stood with Miss Crawford and Fanny: "My dear Edmund, if you were but in orders now, you might perform the ceremony directly. How unlucky that you are not ordained; Mr. Rushworth and Maria are quite ready."
Miss Crawford's countenance, as Julia spoke, might have amused a disinterested observer. She looked almost aghast under the new idea she was receiving. Fanny pitied her. "How distressed she will be at what she said just now," passed across her mind.
"Ordained!" said Miss Crawford; "what, are you to be a clergyman?"
"Yes; I shall take orders soon after my father's return-- probably at Christmas."
Miss Crawford, rallying her spirits, and recovering her complexion, replied only, "If I had known this before, I would have spoken of the cloth with more respect," and turned the subject.
The chapel was soon afterwards left to the silence and stillness which reigned in it, with few interruptions, throughout the year. Miss Bertram, displeased with her sister, led the way, and all seemed to feel that they had been there long enough.
The lower part of the house had been now entirely shewn, and Mrs. Rushworth, never weary in the cause, would have proceeded towards the principal staircase, and taken them through all the rooms above, if her son had not interposed with a doubt of there being time enough. "For if," said he, with the sort of self-evident proposition which many a clearer head does not always avoid, "we are _too_ long going over the house, we shall not have time for what is to be done out of doors. It is past two, and we are to dine at five."
Mrs. Rushworth submitted; and the question of surveying the grounds, with the who and the how, was likely to be more fully agitated, and Mrs. Norris was beginning to arrange by what junction of carriages and horses most could be done, when the young people, meeting with an outward door, temptingly open on a flight of steps which led immediately to turf and shrubs, and all the sweets of pleasure-grounds, as by one impulse, one wish for air and liberty, all walked out.
"Suppose we turn down here for the present," said Mrs. Rushworth, civilly taking the hint and following them. "Here are the greatest number of our plants, and here are the curious pheasants."
"Query," said Mr. Crawford, looking round him, "whether we may not find something to employ us here before we go farther? I see walls of great promise. Mr. Rushworth, shall we summon a council on this lawn?"
"James," said Mrs. Rushworth to her son, "I believe the wilderness will be new to all the party. The Miss Bertrams have never seen the wilderness yet."
No objection was made, but for some time there seemed no inclination to move in any plan, or to any distance. All were attracted at first by the plants or the pheasants, and all dispersed about in happy independence. Mr. Crawford was the first to move forward to examine the capabilities of that end of the house. The lawn, bounded on each side by a high wall, contained beyond the first planted area a bowling-green, and beyond the bowling-green a long terrace walk, backed by iron palisades, and commanding a view over them into the tops of the trees of the wilderness immediately adjoining. It was a good spot for fault-finding. Mr. Crawford was soon followed by Miss Bertram and Mr. Rushworth; and when, after a little time, the others began to form into parties, these three were found in busy consultation on the terrace by Edmund, Miss Crawford, and Fanny, who seemed as naturally to unite, and who, after a short participation of their regrets and difficulties, left them and walked on. The remaining three, Mrs. Rushworth, Mrs. Norris, and Julia, were still far behind; for Julia, whose happy star no longer prevailed, was obliged to keep by the side of Mrs. Rushworth, and restrain her impatient feet to that lady's slow pace, while her aunt, having fallen in with the housekeeper, who was come out to feed the pheasants, was lingering behind in gossip with her. Poor Julia, the only one out of the nine not tolerably satisfied with their lot, was now in a state of complete penance, and as different from the Julia of the barouche-box as could well be imagined. The politeness which she had been brought up to practise as a duty made it impossible for her to escape; while the want of that higher species of self-command, that just consideration of others, that knowledge of her own heart, that principle of right, which had not formed any essential part of her education, made her miserable under it.
"This is insufferably hot," said Miss Crawford, when they had taken one turn on the terrace, and were drawing a second time to the door in the middle which opened to the wilderness. "Shall any of us object to being comfortable? Here is a nice little wood, if one can but get into it. What happiness if the door should not be locked! but of course it is; for in these great places the gardeners are the only people who can go where they like."
The door, however, proved not to be locked, and they were all agreed in turning joyfully through it, and leaving the unmitigated glare of day behind. A considerable flight of steps landed them in the wilderness, which was a planted wood of about two acres, and though chiefly of larch and laurel, and beech cut down, and though laid out with too much regularity, was darkness and shade, and natural beauty, compared with the bowling-green and the terrace. They all felt the refreshment of it, and for some time could only walk and admire. At length, after a short pause, Miss Crawford began with, "So you are to be a clergyman, Mr. Bertram. This is rather a surprise to me."
"Why should it surprise you? You must suppose me designed for some profession, and might perceive that I am neither a lawyer, nor a soldier, nor a sailor."
"Very true; but, in short, it had not occurred to me. And you know there is generally an uncle or a grandfather to leave a fortune to the second son." "A very praiseworthy practice," said Edmund, "but not quite universal. I am one of the exceptions, and _being_ one, must do something for myself."
"'But why are you to be a clergyman? I thought _that_ was always the lot of the youngest, where there were many to chuse before him."
"Do you think the church itself never chosen, then?"
"_Never_ is a black word. But yes, in the _never_ of conversation, which means _not_ _very_ _often_, I do think it. For what is to be done in the church? Men love to distinguish themselves, and in either of the other lines distinction may be gained, but not in the church. A clergyman is nothing."
"The _nothing_ of conversation has its gradations, I hope, as well as the _never_. A clergyman cannot be high in state or fashion. He must not head mobs, or set the ton in dress. But I cannot call that situation nothing which has the charge of all that is of the first importance to mankind, individually or collectively considered, temporally and eternally, which has the guardianship of religion and morals, and consequently of the manners which result from their influence. No one here can call the _office_ nothing. If the man who holds it is so, it is by the neglect of his duty, by foregoing its just importance, and stepping out of his place to appear what he ought not to appear."
"_You_ assign greater consequence to the clergyman than one has been used to hear given, or than I can quite comprehend. One does not see much of this influence and importance in society, and how can it be acquired where they are so seldom seen themselves? How can two sermons a week, even supposing them worth hearing, supposing the preacher to have the sense to prefer Blair's to his own, do all that you speak of? govern the conduct and fashion the manners of a large congregation for the rest of the week? One scarcely sees a clergyman out of his pulpit."
"_You_ are speaking of London, _I_ am speaking of the nation at large."
"The metropolis, I imagine, is a pretty fair sample of the rest."
"Not, I should hope, of the proportion of virtue to vice throughout the kingdom. We do not look in great cities for our best morality. It is not there that respectable people of any denomination can do most good; and it certainly is not there that the influence of the clergy can be most felt. A fine preacher is followed and admired; but it is not in fine preaching only that a good clergyman will be useful in his parish and his neighbourhood, where the parish and neighbourhood are of a size capable of knowing his private character, and observing his general conduct, which in London can rarely be the case. The clergy are lost there in the crowds of their parishioners. They are known to the largest part only as preachers. And with regard to their influencing public manners, Miss Crawford must not misunderstand me, or suppose I mean to call them the arbiters of good-breeding, the regulators of refinement and courtesy, the masters of the ceremonies of life. The _manners_ I speak of might rather be called _conduct_, perhaps, the result of good principles; the effect, in short, of those doctrines which it is their duty to teach and recommend; and it will, I believe, be everywhere found, that as the clergy are, or are not what they ought to be, so are the rest of the nation."
"Certainly," said Fanny, with gentle earnestness.
"There," cried Miss Crawford, "you have quite convinced Miss Price already."
"I wish I could convince Miss Crawford too."
"I do not think you ever will," said she, with an arch smile; "I am just as much surprised now as I was at first that you should intend to take orders. You really are fit for something better. Come, do change your mind. It is not too late. Go into the law."
"Go into the law! With as much ease as I was told to go into this wilderness."
"Now you are going to say something about law being the worst wilderness of the two, but I forestall you; remember, I have forestalled you."
"You need not hurry when the object is only to prevent my saying a _bon_ _mot_, for there is not the least wit in my nature. I am a very matter-of-fact, plain-spoken being, and may blunder on the borders of a repartee for half an hour together without striking it out."
A general silence succeeded. Each was thoughtful. Fanny made the first interruption by saying, "I wonder that I should be tired with only walking in this sweet wood; but the next time we come to a seat, if it is not disagreeable to you, I should be glad to sit down for a little while."
"My dear Fanny," cried Edmund, immediately drawing her arm within his, "how thoughtless I have been! I hope you are not very tired. Perhaps," turning to Miss Crawford, "my other companion may do me the honour of taking an arm."
"Thank you, but I am not at all tired." She took it, however, as she spoke, and the gratification of having her do so, of feeling such a connexion for the first time, made him a little forgetful of Fanny. "You scarcely touch me," said he. "You do not make me of any use. What a difference in the weight of a woman's arm from that of a man! At Oxford I have been a good deal used to have a man lean on me for the length of a street, and you are only a fly in the comparison."
"I am really not tired, which I almost wonder at; for we must have walked at least a mile in this wood. Do not you think we have?"
"Not half a mile," was his sturdy answer; for he was not yet so much in love as to measure distance, or reckon time, with feminine lawlessness.
"Oh! you do not consider how much we have wound about. We have taken such a very serpentine course, and the wood itself must be half a mile long in a straight line, for we have never seen the end of it yet since we left the first great path."
"But if you remember, before we left that first great path, we saw directly to the end of it. We looked down the whole vista, and saw it closed by iron gates, and it could not have been more than a furlong in length."
"Oh! I know nothing of your furlongs, but I am sure it is a very long wood, and that we have been winding in and out ever since we came into it; and therefore, when I say that we have walked a mile in it, I must speak within compass."
"We have been exactly a quarter of an hour here," said Edmund, taking out his watch. "Do you think we are walking four miles an hour?"
"Oh! do not attack me with your watch. A watch is always too fast or too slow. I cannot be dictated to by a watch."
A few steps farther brought them out at the bottom of the very walk they had been talking of; and standing back, well shaded and sheltered, and looking over a ha-ha into the park, was a comfortable-sized bench, on which they all sat down.
"I am afraid you are very tired, Fanny," said Edmund, observing her; "why would not you speak sooner? This will be a bad day's amusement for you if you are to be knocked up. Every sort of exercise fatigues her so soon, Miss Crawford, except riding."
"How abominable in you, then, to let me engross her horse as I did all last week! I am ashamed of you and of myself, but it shall never happen again."
"_Your_ attentiveness and consideration makes me more sensible of my own neglect. Fanny's interest seems in safer hands with you than with me."
"That she should be tired now, however, gives me no surprise; for there is nothing in the course of one's duties so fatiguing as what we have been doing this morning: seeing a great house, dawdling from one room to another, straining one's eyes and one's attention, hearing what one does not understand, admiring what one does not care for. It is generally allowed to be the greatest bore in the world, and Miss Price has found it so, though she did not know it."
"I shall soon be rested," said Fanny; "to sit in the shade on a fine day, and look upon verdure, is the most perfect refreshment."
After sitting a little while Miss Crawford was up again. "I must move," said she; "resting fatigues me. I have looked across the ha-ha till I am weary. I must go and look through that iron gate at the same view, without being able to see it so well."
Edmund left the seat likewise. "Now, Miss Crawford, if you will look up the walk, you will convince yourself that it cannot be half a mile long, or half half a mile."
"It is an immense distance," said she; "I see _that_ with a glance."
He still reasoned with her, but in vain. She would not calculate, she would not compare. She would only smile and assert. The greatest degree of rational consistency could not have been more engaging, and they talked with mutual satisfaction. At last it was agreed that they should endeavour to determine the dimensions of the wood by walking a little more about it. They would go to one end of it, in the line they were then in-- for there was a straight green walk along the bottom by the side of the ha-ha--and perhaps turn a little way in some other direction, if it seemed likely to assist them, and be back in a few minutes. Fanny said she was rested, and would have moved too, but this was not suffered. Edmund urged her remaining where she was with an earnestness which she could not resist, and she was left on the bench to think with pleasure of her cousin's care, but with great regret that she was not stronger. She watched them till they had turned the corner, and listened till all sound of them had ceased.
拉什沃思先生站在门口迎接他的漂亮姑娘，并礼仪周到地欢迎了其他人。到了客厅里，拉什沃思太太同样热诚地接待了大家。那母子二人对伯特伦小姐青眼有加，正合小姐心意。宾主见面一应事宜结束之后，首先需要吃饭，于是门霍地开了，客人们通过一两个房间进入指定的餐厅，那里已备好了丰富而讲究的茶点。说了不少应酬话，也吃了不少茶点，一切都很称心。接着讨论当天特意要办的那件事。克劳福德先生想要怎样察看庭园，准备怎么去？拉什沃思先生提出坐他的双轮轻便马车。克劳福德先生提议，最好乘一辆能坐两个人以上的马车。“只有我们两人去，而不让其他人去看看，听听他们的意见，那可能比失去现在的乐趣还要令人遗憾。”
拉什沃思太太建议把那辆轻便马车也驾去，可是这个办法不怎么受欢迎，姑娘们既无笑容，也不做声。她的下一个建议，即让没来过的人参观一下大宅，倒是比较受欢迎，因为伯特伦小姐就喜欢显示一下大宅有多么宏伟，其他人也都高兴有点事干。
于是众人都立起身来，在拉什沃思太太的引导下，参观了不少房间。这些房间全都是高屋子，许多是大房间，都按五十年前的风尚加以装饰，铺着亮光光的地板，布置着坚实的红木家具，有的罩着富丽的织花台布，有的是大理石面，有的镀金，有的刻花，各有各的妙处。有许许多多的画像，其中颇有一些好作品，不过大多是家族的画像，除了拉什沃思太太之外，谁也不知道画的是谁了。拉什沃思太太可是下了一番工夫，才把女管家了解的情况全都学了过来，现在几乎能像女管家一样称职地领人参观大宅。眼下，她主要是在向克劳福德小姐和范妮做介绍。不过，这两人听介绍的心态毫无相似之处。克劳福德小姐见过的高楼大厦不计其数，从不把哪一个放在心上，现在只是出于礼貌，装出用心听的样子，而范妮则觉得样样东西既新奇又有趣，便真挚而热切地倾听拉什沃思太太讲解这个家族的过去，它的兴起，它的荣耀，哪些君主驾临过，多少人为王室立过功。她乐滋滋地把一件件事与学过的历史联系起来，或者用过去的场面来活跃自己的想象。
这幢房子由于地势不好，从哪个房间都看不到多少景色，因此，就在范妮等人跟着拉什沃思太太参观，听她讲解介绍的时候，亨利·克劳福德板着副面孔，冲着一个个窗口直摇头。从西部正面的每一个房间望出去，都是一片草地，再往前去是高高的铁栏杆和大门，大门外边是林荫道的起点。
众人又看了许多房间．这些房间你想象不出有什么用场，只不过是多贡献些窗户税①（译注：①英国在1851年以前，曾对城镇房屋的窗户或透光孔征过税。），让女仆们有活可干罢了。这时，拉什沃思太太说道：“我们来到了礼拜堂，按规矩我们应该从上边往里进，由上往下看。不过我们都是自己人，你们要是不见怪，我就从这里带你们进去。”
大家走了进去。范妮原来想象这该是个宏伟庄严的去处，不料却只是一个长方形的大房间，根据做礼拜的需要做了些布置——除了到处都是红木摆设，楼上廊台家族的座位上铺着深红色的天鹅绒垫子，再也没有什么比较惹眼、比较庄严的东西了。“我感到失望，”她悄悄地对埃德蒙说。“我想象中的礼拜堂不是这样的。这儿没有什么令人望而生畏的，没有什么令人忧从中来的，没有什么庄严的感觉。没有过道，没有拱形结构，没有碑文，没有旗帜。表哥，没有旗帜让‘天国的夜风吹动’。没有迹象表明一位‘苏格兰国君安息在下边’。①”（译注：①两行诗均引自英国诗人司各特(1771-1832)的长诗《最后一个吟游诗人之歌》。）
“你忘记了，范妮，这都是近代建造的，与城堡、寺院里的古老礼拜堂相比，用途又非常有限。这只是供这个家族私人使用的。我想，那些先人都葬在教区的教堂墓地。你要看他们的旗号，了解他们的业绩，应该到那儿去找。”
“我真傻，没考虑到这些情况，不过我还是感到失望。”
拉什沃思太太开始介绍了。“这个礼拜堂是詹姆斯二世②（译注：②詹姆斯二世(1633-1701)，英国国王（1685 -1688），被“光荣革命”所推翻。）时期布置成现在这个样子的。据我所知，在那之前，只是用壁板当座位，而且有理由设想，讲台和家族座位的衬里和垫子都不过是紫布，不过这还不是很有把握。这是一座很美观的礼拜堂，以前总是早上晚上不停地使用。许多人都还记得，家庭牧师常在里边念祷文。但是，已故的拉什沃思先生把它给废除了。”
“每一代都有所改进，”克劳福德小姐笑吟吟地对埃德蒙说。
拉什沃恩太太去向克劳福德先生把她刚才那番话再说一遍，埃德蒙、范妮和克劳福德小姐还仍然呆在一起。
“真可惜，”范妮嚷道，“这一风习居然中断了。这是过去很可贵的一个习俗。有一个礼拜堂，有一个牧师，这对于一座大宅来说，对于人们想象中这种人家应有的气派来说，是多么的协调啊！一家人按时聚在一起祈祷，这有多好啊！”
“的确很好啊！”克劳福德小姐笑着说道。“这对主人们大有好处，他们可以强迫可怜的男仆女佣全都丢下工作和娱乐，一天到这里做两次祈祷，而他们自己却可以找借口不来。”
“范妮所说的一家人聚在一起祈祷可不是这个意思，”埃德蒙说。“如果男女主人自己不参加，这样的做法只能是弊大于利。”
“不管怎么说，在这种事情上，还是让人们自行其是为好。谁都喜欢独自行动——自己选择表达虔诚的时间和方式。被迫参加，拘泥形式，局促刻板，每次又花那么长时间——总之是件可怕的事情，谁都反感的事情。过去那些跪在廊台上打呵欠的虔诚的人们，要是能预见终久会有这么一天，男男女女们头昏脑涨地醒来后还可以在床上躺上十分钟，也不会因为没有去礼拜堂而受人责备，他们会又高兴、又嫉妒地跳起来。拉什沃思世家从前的美人们如何不情愿地一次次来到这座礼拜堂，你难道想象不出来吗？年轻的埃丽诺太太们和布里杰特太太们，一本正经地装出虔诚笃信的样子，但脑子里却尽是别的念头——尤其是可怜的牧师不值一瞧的时候——我想．在那个年代，牧师甚至远不如今天的牧师有地位。”
这番话说过之后，好久没有人搭理。范妮脸红了，两眼盯着埃德蒙，气得说不出话来。埃德蒙稍微镇静了一下，才说：“你的头脑真活跃，即使谈论严肃的问题也严肃不起来。你给我们描绘了一幅有趣的图画，就人之常情而言，这幅画不能说是不真实。我们每个人有时候都会感到难于像我们希望的那样集中思想，但你若是认为这种现象经常发生，也就是说，由于疏忽的缘故，这种弱点变成了习惯，那么这些人独自做祈祷时又会怎么样呢？难道你认为一个放任自流的人，在礼拜堂里可以胡思乱想，到了私人祈祷室里就会集中思想吗？”
“是的，很有可能。至少有两个有利条件。一是来自外面的分散注意力的事情比较少，二是不会把祈祷的时间拖得那么长。”
“依我看，一个人在一种环境下不能约束自己，在另一种环境下也会分散注意力。由于环境的感染，别人虔诚祷告的感染，你往往会产生比一开始更虔诚的情感。不过我承认，做礼拜的时间拖得越长，人的注意力有时越难以集中。人们都希望不要这样——不过我离开牛津还不算久，还记得礼拜堂做祷告的情形。”
就在这当儿，其余的人分散到了礼拜堂各处，朱莉娅便让克劳福德先生注意她姐姐，对他说：“快看拉什沃思先生和玛丽亚，两人肩并肩地站在那里，好像就要举行结婚典礼似的。难道不是不折不扣地像是要举行结婚典礼的样子吗？”
克劳福德先生笑了笑表示默认，一边走到玛丽亚跟前，说了一声：“我不愿意看见伯特伦小姐离圣坛这么近。”①（译注：①这是一句双关语。按西方风俗，婚礼是在教堂圣坛前举行。）说话声只有她一个人可以听到。
这位小姐吓了一跳，本能地挪开了一两步，不过很快又镇静下来，强作笑颜地问：要是他愿意把她交给新郎呢？②（译注：②按西方风俗，在婚礼上，新娘由其亲人将其手放在新郎手里，意思是把新娘交给新郎照管。）说话声比克劳福德先生大不了多少。
“让我来交，我恐怕会搞得很尴尬的，”克劳福德先生答道，脸上露出意味深长的神情。
这时朱莉娅来到他们跟前，把这个玩笑继续开下去。
“说实话，不能马上举行婚礼实在遗憾。要是有一张正式的结婚证就好了，因为我们大家都在这儿，真是再恰当、再有趣不过了。”朱莉娅毫无顾忌地又说又笑，拉什沃思先生和他母亲也听出了她话里的意思，拉什沃思先生便悄声对她姐姐讲起了温情细语，拉什沃思太太面带恰到好处的微笑和得体的尊严说：不管什么时候举行，她都觉得这是一件极其快乐的事情。
“要是埃德蒙当上牧师就好了！”朱莉娅大声说道，一边朝埃德蒙、克劳福德小姐和范妮站的地方跑去。“亲爱的埃德蒙，假如你现在就是牧师，你可以马上主持婚礼了。真遗憾，你还没有接受圣职，拉什沃思先生和玛丽亚已经万事俱备了。”
朱莉娅说话的时候，在一个不偏不倚的旁观者看来，克劳福德小姐的神色还满有意思的。她听到这从未想到过的事情后，差不多给吓呆了。范妮对她怜悯起来，心想：“她听到朱莉娅刚才说的话，心里该有多难受啊！”
“接受圣职！”克劳福德小姐说。“怎么，你要当牧师？”
“是的，等我父亲回来，我很快就会担任圣职——可能在圣诞节。”
克劳福德小姐镇定了一番，恢复了平常的神态，只回答了一句：“我要是早点知道这件事，刚才讲到牧师的时候会更尊敬一些。”随即便转入别的话题。
过了不久，大家都出来了，礼拜堂又恢复了它那长年很少受人干扰的一片寂静。伯特伦小姐生她妹妹的气，最先走开了，其余的人似乎觉得在那里待得够久了。
大宅的第一层全让客人看过了，拉什沃思太太做起这件事来从来不会厌倦，要不是她儿子怕时间来不及，中途阻止了，她还要奔向主楼梯，领客人参观楼上的所有房间。拉什沃思先生提议说：“我们看房子用的时间太长了，就没有时间去户外参观了。现在已经两点多了，五点钟要吃饭。”这是明摆着的事，凡是头脑比较清醒的人，免不了都会提出来。
拉什沃思太太接受了儿子的意见。关于参观庭园的问题，包括怎样去，哪些人去，可能引起更激烈的争论。诺里斯太太已开始筹划用什么马套什么车最好。这时候，年轻人已来到通向户外的门口，门外下了台阶便是草地和灌木林，以及富有种种乐趣的游乐场，而且门开着在引诱他们，大家好像心里一冲动，都想换换空气，自由活动一番，便一起走了出去。
“我们就从这里下去吧，”拉什沃思太太说道，颇为客气地顺从了众人的意思，跟着走了出去。“我们的大多数花木都在这里，这里有珍奇的野鸡。”
“请问，”克劳福德先生环顾左右说，“我们是否可以看看这里有没有什么地方需要改造，然后再往前走？我看这些墙上便可大做文章。拉什沃思先生，我们就在这块草地上开个会怎么样？”
“詹姆斯，”拉什沃思太太对儿子说，“我想那片荒地会让大家觉得很新鲜。两位伯特伦小姐还没看过那片荒地呢。”
没有人提出异议，可是有好一阵子，大家似乎既不想按什么计划行动，也不想往什么地方去。一个个从一开始就被花木或野鸡吸引住了，喜气洋洋而又独立自主地四处走散了。克劳福德先生第一个向前走去，想看看房子这头可以有什么作为。草地的四周有高墙围着，第一块花木区过去是草地滚木球场，过了滚木球场是一条长长的阶径，再过去是铁栅栏，越过栅栏可以看到毗邻的荒地上的树梢。这是个给庭园找缺陷的好地方。克劳福德先生刚到不久，伯特伦小姐和拉什沃思先生便跟上来了，随后其他人也分别结合在一起。这当儿，埃德蒙、克劳福德小姐和范妮走在一起似乎是很自然的事，他们来到阶径的时候，只见那三个人在那里热烈地讨论着，听他们表示了一番惋惜、列举了种种困难之后，便离开他们，继续往前走。其余三个人，拉什沃思太太、诺里斯太太和朱莉娅，还远远地落在后面。朱莉娅不再吉星高照了，不得不寸步不离地走在拉什沃思太太身边，极力抑制住自己急不可待的脚步，来适应这位太太慢吞吞的步伐。而她姨妈又碰到女管家出来喂野鸡，也慢吞吞地走在后面跟她聊天。可怜的朱莉娅，九个人中只有她一个人不大满意自己的境遇，眼下完全处于一种赎罪状态，与先前坐在驾驶座上的朱莉娅简直判若两人。她从小受到对人要讲礼貌的教育，因此她又不能逃走。而她又缺乏更高的涵养，缺乏公正地为别人着想的胸怀，缺乏对自己心灵的自知之明，缺乏明辨是非的原则，这在她过去所受的教育中没有占过重要的位置，因而让她陪着拉什沃思太太，心里又觉得委屈。
“热得让人受不了，”当众人在阶径上踱了一个来回，第二次走近通向荒地的中门时，克劳福德小姐说。“我们中间不会有人反对舒适一下吧？这片小树林真不错，我们要是能进去就好了。要是门没上锁该有多快活呀！不过，门当然是锁上了，因为在这样的大庄园里，只有园丁可以随意四处走动。”
然而，其实那门并没有锁，大家一齐兴高采烈地出了门，避开了那炽热的阳光，下了一段长长的台阶，来到了荒地上。达是一片两英亩左右的人工培植的树林，虽然种的主要是落叶松和月桂树，山毛榉已被砍倒，虽然布局过于齐整，但与滚木球场及阶径相比，这里一片阴凉，呈现一种自然美。大家都感到一阵爽快，便一边漫步，一边欣赏。过了一会，克劳福德小姐开口问道：“这么说你要当牧师了，伯特伦先生。这让我感到意外。”
“怎么会让你感到意外呢？你应该想到我总该有个职业，而且可能已经看出我既不是律师，也不是军人，又不是水手。”
“一点不错。不过，总而言之，我没想到你要当牧师。你要知道，做叔伯的或做爷爷的往往会给第二个儿子留下一笔财产。”
“这种做法很值得赞赏，”埃德蒙说，“但却不是很普遍。我就是一个例外，正因为我是个例外，我就得为自己做点事儿。”
“可你为什么要当牧师呢？我原以为那只是小儿子所走的路子，前面有好多哥哥把路子都挑完了。”
“那你认为从来没有人选择教会这条路啦？”
“说从来没有未免有些绝对。不过也可以这么说吧，人们常说的从来没有往往是不常有的意思，就此而言，我的确认为从来没有人选择过。到教会里能干出什么名堂呢？男人都喜欢出人头地，干其他任何哪一行都可能出人头地，但在教会里就做不到。牧师是无足轻重的。”
“我想，人们常说的无足轻重也和从来没有一样有程度上的区别。牧师不可能威风凛凛，衣着华丽。他不能做群众的领袖，也不能带头穿时装。但是，我不能把这种职位称做无足轻重，因为这种职位所担负的责任，对人类来说，不管是从个人来考虑还是从整体来考虑，不管是从眼前来看还是从长远来看，都有极其重要的意义 ——这一职位负责维护宗教和道德，并因此也维护受宗教和道德影响而产生的言行规范。谁也不会把这一职务说成无足轻重。如果一个担任这一职务的人真的无足轻重，那是由于他玩忽职守，忽略了这一职务的重要意义，背弃自己的身份，不像一个真正的牧师。”
“你可把牧师的作用看得过重了，谁也没听说过牧师这么重要，我也不大能理解。人们在社会上不大看到这种影响和重要性，既然牧师都难得见到，又怎么会产生影响和重要性呢？一个牧师一星期布道两次，即使他讲的值得一听，即使他头脑清醒，觉得自己比得上布莱尔的布道①，（译注：①布莱尔（Hugh Blair，1718-1800），苏格兰修辞学教授，以善于布道而闻名于世，著有五卷布道集。）那他的两次布道就能像你说的那样起作用？能在本周其余的几天里管得住广大教徒的行为，使他们的言谈举止合乎规范吗？牧师只是在布道坛上布道，人们很少在别的地方看见他。”
“你说的是伦敦，我说的是全国的整个情况。”
“我想，京城理应是全国各地的样板。”
“我想，就善与恶的比例而言，京城并不能代表全国。我们并不到大城市里去寻找最高的道德风尚。不管是哪个教派中德高望重的人士，他们的大德大善都不是在大城市里行施的；牧师们的影响也不是在大城市里最能察觉得到。优秀的牧师受到人们的拥护和爱戴。但是，一个好的牧师所以能在他的教区和邻近一带起到有益的作用，并不仅仅因为他讲道讲得好，还因为他的教区和邻近一带范围有限，人们能了解他的个人品德，看得到他的日常行为，而在伦敦就很少有这种情况。在伦敦，牧师给淹没在不计其数的教民之中。大多数人只知道他们是牧师而已。至于说牧师可以影响公众的言谈举止，克劳福德小姐不要误解我的意思，不要以为我把他们称做良好教养的裁决人，谦恭文雅的规定者，精通生活礼仪的大师。我所说的言谈举止，更确切地说，也许可以叫做行为，是正当原则的产物，简而言之，是他们的职责应该传授宣扬的那些信条产生的效杲。我相信，你走到哪里都会发现牧师有恪尽职守或不恪尽职守的，全国其他地方的情况也都一样。”
“当然是这样的，”范妮温文而郑重地说。
“瞧，”克劳福德小姐嚷道，“你已经把普莱斯小姐说得心服口服了。”
“但愿我也能把克劳福德小姐说服了。”
“我看你永远也说服不了我，”克劳福德小姐面带调皮的笑容说。“我还和刚听说时一样，对你想当牧师感到意外。你还真适合干个好一点的差事。得啦，改变主意吧。现在还不算太晚。去搞法律吧。”
“去搞法律！你说得好轻巧啊，就像是劝我来到这片荒地上一样。”
“你是想说法律比这荒地还要荒芜，不过我替你先说出来了。记住，我替你先说出来了。”
“你只不过是怕我说出俏皮话，那就不必着急，因为我丝毫没有说俏皮话的天赋。我是个一是一二是二、实话实说的人，想做个巧妙的回答，但却搜肠刮肚半个小时也搜刮不出来。”
接着是一片沉默。人人都在思索。范妮首先打破了沉默，说道：“真奇怪，只是在这清爽宜人的树林里走走，居然会感觉累。再碰到座位的时候，你们要是不反对的话，我倒想坐一会儿。”
“亲爱的范妮，”埃德蒙立即挽住她的胳臂，说道，“我多不会体谅人哪！希望你不是很累。也许，”说着转向克劳福德小姐，“我的另一个伙伴会给我点面子，让我挽着她。”
“谢谢，不过我一点也不累。”克劳福德小姐嘴里这么说，手却挽住了他的胳膊。埃德蒙见她照他的意思做了，并第一次感受到与她这样接触，心里一高兴，便有点忘记了范妮。“你没怎么抓住我呀，”他说。“你根本没让我派上用场。女人胳膊的分量和男人的是多么不同啊！我在牛津上学的时候，经常让一个小伙子靠在身上行走，一走就是一条街那么远。比较起来，你就像只飞蝇那么轻。”
“我真的不累，我也觉得有点奇怪。我们在这个林子里至少走了一英里。难道你不认为有这么远吗？”
“半英里都不到。”埃德蒙果决地答道。他还没有爱得晕头转向，衡量起距离或时间来，倒不会像女人那样漫无边际。
“噢！你没考虑我们转了多少弯儿。我们走的这条路弯弯曲曲的，这片林子从这边到那边的直线距离肯定有半英里，我们离开第一条大路到现在，还望不见树林的尽头。”
“可是你该记得，我们离开那第一条大路之前，就能一眼看到林子的尽头。我们顺着那狭长的空地望过去，看到了林子尽头的铁门，至多也不过一浪①地远。”（译注：①浪( furlong)，长度单位，等于八分之一英里，或201. 17米。）
“噢！我不懂你说的一浪有多远，不过我敢肯定这片树林非常长，而且我们走进林子以后一直转来转去，因此我说我们已经走了一英里，肯定没有言过其实。”
“我们来这里刚好一刻钟，”埃德蒙取出表来，说道。“你认为我们一小时能走四英里吗？”
“噢！不要拿你的表来压我。表往往不是快就是慢。我可不能让表来支配我。”
大家又往前走了几步，出了树林来到他们刚才说的小道的尽头。路边的林荫下有一条宽大的长凳，从那里可以越过隐篱②（译注：②隐篱 ha-ha，系造在沟界中不阻挡视线的篱、墙等建筑，也称暗墙。）观看庄园。于是，他们便都坐了下来。
“恐怕你很累了吧，范妮，”埃德蒙一边打量她一边说。“你为什么不早点说呢？要是把你累坏了，那你今天的游玩就没有意义了。克劳福德小姐，她除了骑马以外，不论做什么活动，很快就会疲劳的。”
“那你上星期让我把她的马整整占用了一个星期，这有多么可恶呀！我替你害臊也为自己害臊，不过以后再也不会出这种事儿了。”
“你对她这么关心体贴，使我越发感到自己照顾不周。由你来关照范妮，看来比我要稳妥些。”
“不过，她现在感到劳累，我觉得不足为奇。我们今天上午搞的这些活动比干什么都累人——参观了一座大宅，从这个房间磨蹭到另一个房间——看得眼困神乏—— 听一些自己听不懂的事——赞赏一些自己并不喜欢的东西。人们普遍认为，这是世界上最令人厌倦的事情，普莱斯小姐也有同感，只是她过去没有经历过。”
“我很快就缓过劲儿来了，”范妮说。“大晴天里坐在树荫下，观赏这一片葱葱郁郁的草地，真让人心旷神怡。”
坐了一会之后，克劳福德小姐又站了起来。“我必须活动活动，”她说，“我越休息越累。隔着这堵隐篱往那边看，都把我看厌倦了。我要去隔着铁门看那片景色，想能好好地看一看。”
埃德蒙也离开了座位。“克劳福德小姐，你要是顺着这条小路望去，就会觉得这条路不会有半英里长，也不会有半个半英里长。”
“这条路可是长得很哪，”克劳福德小姐说。“我一眼就看出长得很。”
埃德蒙还在与她争论，但是无济于事。她不肯计算，也不肯比较。她光是笑，光是固执己见。这种行径倒比坚持以理服人还要迷人，因此两人谈得非常愉快。最后双方说定，再在林子里走一走，好确定它究竟有多大。他们想沿着正在走的路线（因为在隐篱的一边，顺着树林还有一条直直的绿荫小道），向林子的一头走去，如果需要的话，也许朝别的方向稍微拐一拐，过一阵就回来。范妮说她休息好了，也想活动活动，但是没得到许可。埃德蒙恳切地劝她不要动，这番好意她难以违拗，便一个人坐在凳子上，想到表哥这样关心自己，心里感到乐滋滋的，但又为自己身体不够强健而深感遗憾。她望着他们，直到他们转过弯去。她听着他们边走边谈，直到听不见为止。
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Chapter Ten
A quarter of an hour, twenty minutes, passed away, and Fanny was still thinking of Edmund, Miss Crawford, and herself, without interruption from any one. She began to be surprised at being left so long, and to listen with an anxious desire of hearing their steps and their voices again. She listened, and at length she heard; she heard voices and feet approaching; but she had just satisfied herself that it was not those she wanted, when Miss Bertram, Mr. Rushworth, and Mr. Crawford issued from the same path which she had trod herself, and were before her.
"Miss Price all alone" and "My dear Fanny, how comes this?" were the first salutations. She told her story. "Poor dear Fanny," cried her cousin, "how ill you have been used by them! You had better have staid with us."
Then seating herself with a gentleman on each side, she resumed the conversation which had engaged them before, and discussed the possibility of improvements with much animation. Nothing was fixed on; but Henry Crawford was full of ideas and projects, and, generally speaking, whatever he proposed was immediately approved, first by her, and then by Mr. Rushworth, whose principal business seemed to be to hear the others, and who scarcely risked an original thought of his own beyond a wish that they had seen his friend Smith's place.
After some minutes spent in this way, Miss Bertram, observing the iron gate, expressed a wish of passing through it into the park, that their views and their plans might be more comprehensive. It was the very thing of all others to be wished, it was the best, it was the only way of proceeding with any advantage, in Henry Crawford's opinion; and he directly saw a knoll not half a mile off, which would give them exactly the requisite command of the house. Go therefore they must to that knoll, and through that gate; but the gate was locked. Mr. Rushworth wished he had brought the key; he had been very near thinking whether he should not bring the key; he was determined he would never come without the key again; but still this did not remove the present evil. They could not get through; and as Miss Bertram's inclination for so doing did by no means lessen, it ended in Mr. Rushworth's declaring outright that he would go and fetch the key. He set off accordingly.
"It is undoubtedly the best thing we can do now, as we are so far from the house already," said Mr. Crawford, when he was gone.
"Yes, there is nothing else to be done. But now, sincerely, do not you find the place altogether worse than you expected?"
"No, indeed, far otherwise. I find it better, grander, more complete in its style, though that style may not be the best. And to tell you the truth," speaking rather lower, "I do not think that _I_ shall ever see Sotherton again with so much pleasure as I do now. Another summer will hardly improve it to me."
After a moment's embarrassment the lady replied, "You are too much a man of the world not to see with the eyes of the world. If other people think Sotherton improved, I have no doubt that you will."
"I am afraid I am not quite so much the man of the world as might be good for me in some points. My feelings are not quite so evanescent, nor my memory of the past under such easy dominion as one finds to be the case with men of the world."
This was followed by a short silence. Miss Bertram began again. "You seemed to enjoy your drive here very much this morning. I was glad to see you so well entertained. You and Julia were laughing the whole way."
"Were we? Yes, I believe we were; but I have not the least recollection at what. Oh! I believe I was relating to her some ridiculous stories of an old Irish groom of my uncle's. Your sister loves to laugh."
"You think her more light-hearted than I am?"
"More easily amused," he replied; "consequently, you know," smiling, "better company. I could not have hoped to entertain you with Irish anecdotes during a ten miles' drive."
"Naturally, I believe, I am as lively as Julia, but I have more to think of now."
"You have, undoubtedly; and there are situations in which very high spirits would denote insensibility. Your prospects, however, are too fair to justify want of spirits. You have a very smiling scene before you."
"Do you mean literally or figuratively? Literally, I conclude. Yes, certainly, the sun shines, and the park looks very cheerful. But unluckily that iron gate, that ha-ha, give me a feeling of restraint and hardship. "I cannot get out, as the starling said." As she spoke, and it was with expression, she walked to the gate: he followed her. "Mr. Rushworth is so long fetching this key!"
"And for the world you would not get out without the key and without Mr. Rushworth's authority and protection, or I think you might with little difficulty pass round the edge of the gate, here, with my assistance; I think it might be done, if you really wished to be more at large, and could allow yourself to think it not prohibited."
"Prohibited! nonsense! I certainly can get out that way, and I will. Mr. Rushworth will be here in a moment, you know; we shall not be out of sight." "Or if we are, Miss Price will be so good as to tell him that he will find us near that knoll: the grove of oak on the knoll."
Fanny, feeling all this to be wrong, could not help making an effort to prevent it. "You will hurt yourself, Miss Bertram," she cried; "you will certainly hurt yourself against those spikes; you will tear your gown; you will be in danger of slipping into the ha-ha. You had better not go."
Her cousin was safe on the other side while these words were spoken, and, smiling with all the good-humour of success, she said, "Thank you, my dear Fanny, but I and my gown are alive and well, and so good-bye."
Fanny was again left to her solitude, and with no increase of pleasant feelings, for she was sorry for almost all that she had seen and heard, astonished at Miss Bertram, and angry with Mr. Crawford. By taking a circuitous route, and, as it appeared to her, very unreasonable direction to the knoll, they were soon beyond her eye; and for some minutes longer she remained without sight or sound of any companion. She seemed to have the little wood all to herself. She could almost have thought that Edmund and Miss Crawford had left it, but that it was impossible for Edmund to forget her so entirely.
She was again roused from disagreeable musings by sudden footsteps:
somebody was coming at a quick pace down the principal walk. She expected Mr. Rushworth, but it was Julia, who, hot and out of breath, and with a look of disappointment, cried out on seeing her, "Heyday! Where are the others? I thought Maria and Mr. Crawford were with you."
Fanny explained.
"A pretty trick, upon my word! I cannot see them anywhere," looking eagerly into the park. "But they cannot be very far off, and I think I am equal to as much as Maria, even without help."
"But, Julia, Mr. Rushworth will be here in a moment with the key. Do wait for Mr. Rushworth."
"Not I, indeed. I have had enough of the family for one morning. Why, child, I have but this moment escaped from his horrible mother. Such a penance as I have been enduring, while you were sitting here so composed and so happy! It might have been as well, perhaps, if you had been in my place, but you always contrive to keep out of these scrapes."
This was a most unjust reflection, but Fanny could allow for it, and let it pass: Julia was vexed, and her temper was hasty; but she felt that it would not last, and therefore, taking no notice, only asked her if she had not seen Mr. Rushworth.
"Yes, yes, we saw him. He was posting away as if upon life and death, and could but just spare time to tell us his errand, and where you all were."
"It is a pity he should have so much trouble for nothing."
"_That_ is Miss Maria's concern. I am not obliged to punish myself for _her_ sins. The mother I could not avoid, as long as my tiresome aunt was dancing about with the housekeeper, but the son I _can_ get away from."
And she immediately scrambled across the fence, and walked away, not attending to Fanny's last question of whether she had seen anything of Miss Crawford and Edmund. The sort of dread in which Fanny now sat of seeing Mr. Rushworth prevented her thinking so much of their continued absence, however, as she might have done. She felt that he had been very ill-used, and was quite unhappy in having to communicate what had passed. He joined her within five minutes after Julia's exit; and though she made the best of the story, he was evidently mortified and displeased in no common degree. At first he scarcely said anything; his looks only expressed his extreme surprise and vexation, and he walked to the gate and stood there, without seeming to know what to do.
"They desired me to stay--my cousin Maria charged me to say that you would find them at that knoll, or thereabouts."
"I do not believe I shall go any farther," said he sullenly; "I see nothing of them. By the time I get to the knoll they may be gone somewhere else. I have had walking enough."
And he sat down with a most gloomy countenance by Fanny.
"I am very sorry," said she; "it is very unlucky." And she longed to be able to say something more to the purpose.
After an interval of silence, "I think they might as well have staid for me," said he.
"Miss Bertram thought you would follow her."
"I should not have had to follow her if she had staid."
This could not be denied, and Fanny was silenced. After another pause, he went on--"Pray, Miss Price, are you such a great admirer of this Mr. Crawford as some people are? For my part, I can see nothing in him."
"I do not think him at all handsome."
"Handsome! Nobody can call such an undersized man handsome. He is not five foot nine. I should not wonder if he is not more than five foot eight. I think he is an ill-looking fellow. In my opinion, these Crawfords are no addition at all. We did very well without them."
A small sigh escaped Fanny here, and she did not know how to contradict him.
"If I had made any difficulty about fetching the key, there might have been some excuse, but I went the very moment she said she wanted it."
"Nothing could be more obliging than your manner, I am sure, and I dare say you walked as fast as you could; but still it is some distance, you know, from this spot to the house, quite into the house; and when people are waiting, they are bad judges of time, and every half minute seems like five."
He got up and walked to the gate again, and "wished he had had the key about him at the time." Fanny thought she discerned in his standing there an indication of relenting, which encouraged her to another attempt, and she said, therefore, "It is a pity you should not join them. They expected to have a better view of the house from that part of the park, and will be thinking how it may be improved; and nothing of that sort, you know, can be settled without you."
She found herself more successful in sending away than in retaining a companion. Mr. Rushworth was worked on. "Well," said he, "if you really think I had better go: it would be foolish to bring the key for nothing." And letting himself out, he walked off without farther ceremony.
Fanny's thoughts were now all engrossed by the two who had left her so long ago, and getting quite impatient, she resolved to go in search of them. She followed their steps along the bottom walk, and had just turned up into another, when the voice and the laugh of Miss Crawford once more caught her ear; the sound approached, and a few more windings brought them before her. They were just returned into the wilderness from the park, to which a sidegate, not fastened, had tempted them very soon after their leaving her, and they had been across a portion of the park into the very avenue which Fanny had been hoping the whole morning to reach at last, and had been sitting down under one of the trees. This was their history. It was evident that they had been spending their time pleasantly, and were not aware of the length of their absence. Fanny's best consolation was in being assured that Edmund had wished for her very much, and that he should certainly have come back for her, had she not been tired already; but this was not quite sufficient to do away with the pain of having been left a whole hour, when he had talked of only a few minutes, nor to banish the sort of curiosity she felt to know what they had been conversing about all that time; and the result of the whole was to her disappointment and depression, as they prepared by general agreement to return to the house.
On reaching the bottom of the steps to the terrace, Mrs. Rushworth and Mrs. Norris presented themselves at the top, just ready for the wilderness, at the end of an hour and a half from their leaving the house. Mrs. Norris had been too well employed to move faster. Whatever cross-accidents had occurred to intercept the pleasures of her nieces, she had found a morning of complete enjoyment; for the housekeeper, after a great many courtesies on the subject of pheasants, had taken her to the dairy, told her all about their cows, and given her the receipt for a famous cream cheese; and since Julia's leaving them they had been met by the gardener, with whom she had made a most satisfactory acquaintance, for she had set him right as to his grandson's illness, convinced him that it was an ague, and promised him a charm for it; and he, in return, had shewn her all his choicest nursery of plants, and actually presented her with a very curious specimen of heath.
On this _ rencontre_ they all returned to the house together, there to lounge away the time as they could with sofas, and chit-chat, and Quarterly Reviews, till the return of the others, and the arrival of dinner. It was late before the Miss Bertrams and the two gentlemen came in, and their ramble did not appear to have been more than partially agreeable, or at all productive of anything useful with regard to the object of the day. By their own accounts they had been all walking after each other, and the junction which had taken place at last seemed, to Fanny's observation, to have been as much too late for re-establishing harmony, as it confessedly had been for determining on any alteration. She felt, as she looked at Julia and Mr. Rushworth, that hers was not the only dissatisfied bosom amongst them: there was gloom on the face of each. Mr. Crawford and Miss Bertram were much more gay, and she thought that he was taking particular pains, during dinner, to do away any little resentment of the other two, and restore general good-humour.
Dinner was soon followed by tea and coffee, a ten miles' drive home allowed no waste of hours; and from the time of their sitting down to table, it was a quick succession of busy nothings till the carriage came to the door, and Mrs. Norris, having fidgeted about, and obtained a few pheasants' eggs and a cream cheese from the housekeeper, and made abundance of civil speeches to Mrs. Rushworth, was ready to lead the way. At the same moment Mr. Crawford, approaching Julia, said, "I hope I am not to lose my companion, unless she is afraid of the evening air in so exposed a seat." The request had not been foreseen, but was very graciously received, and Julia's day was likely to end almost as well as it began. Miss Bertram had made up her mind to something different, and was a little disappointed; but her conviction of being really the one preferred comforted her under it, and enabled her to receive Mr. Rushworth's parting attentions as she ought. He was certainly better pleased to hand her into the barouche than to assist her in ascending the box, and his complacency seemed confirmed by the arrangement.
"Well, Fanny, this has been a fine day for you, upon my word," said Mrs. Norris, as they drove through the park. "Nothing but pleasure from beginning to end! I am sure you ought to be very much obliged to your aunt Bertram and me for contriving to let you go. A pretty good day's amusement you have had!"
Maria was just discontented enough to say directly, "I think _you_ have done pretty well yourself, ma'am. Your lap seems full of good things, and here is a basket of something between us which has been knocking my elbow unmercifully."
"My dear, it is only a beautiful little heath, which that nice old gardener would make me take; but if it is in your way, I will have it in my lap directly. There, Fanny, you shall carry that parcel for me; take great care of it: do not let it fall; it is a cream cheese, just like the excellent one we had at dinner. Nothing would satisfy that good old Mrs. Whitaker, but my taking one of the cheeses. I stood out as long as I could, till the tears almost came into her eyes, and I knew it was just the sort that my sister would be delighted with. That Mrs. Whitaker is a treasure! She was quite shocked when I asked her whether wine was allowed at the second table, and she has turned away two housemaids for wearing white gowns. Take care of the cheese, Fanny. Now I can manage the other parcel and the basket very well."
"What else have you been spunging?" said Maria, half-pleased that Sotherton should be so complimented.
"Spunging, my dear! It is nothing but four of those beautiful pheasants' eggs, which Mrs. Whitaker would quite force upon me: she would not take a denial. She said it must be such an amusement to me, as she understood I lived quite alone, to have a few living creatures of that sort; and so to be sure it will. I shall get the dairymaid to set them under the first spare hen, and if they come to good I can have them moved to my own house and borrow a coop; and it will be a great delight to me in my lonely hours to attend to them. And if I have good luck, your mother shall have some."
It was a beautiful evening, mild and still, and the drive was as pleasant as the serenity of Nature could make it; but when Mrs. Norris ceased speaking, it was altogether a silent drive to those within. Their spirits were in general exhausted; and to determine whether the day had afforded most pleasure or pain, might occupy the meditations of almost all.
十五分钟过去了，二十分钟过去了，范妮仍然在想着埃德蒙、克劳福德小姐和她自己，没有一个人来打断她的思绪。她开始感到奇怪，她怎么会给撂下这么长时间，于是便侧耳倾听，急于想再听到他们的脚步声和说话声。她听了又听，终于听见了，听见说话声和脚步声越来越近。但是，她刚意识到来的并不是她所盼的人，伯特伦小姐、拉什沃思先生和克劳福德先生便从她走过的那条路上走出来，来到了她面前。
几个人一看见她，迎头而来的是这样的话：“普莱斯小姐孤零零一个人啊！”“亲爱的范妮，这是怎么回事呀？”范妮把事情的原委告诉了他们。“可怜的小范妮，”她表姐嚷道，“他们竟然这样怠慢你呀！你早该和我们待在一起的。”
然后，这位表姐便坐了下来，两位先生分坐在她两边。她又捡起了他们刚才谈论的话题，兴致勃勃地讨论如何改造庄园。没有得出任何结论——不过，亨利·克劳福德满脑子的主意和方案，而且一般说来，不论他提出什么建议，都会立即得到赞同，先是伯特伦小姐，接着是拉什沃思先生。拉什沃思先生的主要任务，似乎就是听别人出主意，自己不敢贸然提出任何主见，只是遗憾大家没见过他的朋友史密斯的庄园。
这样过了一阵，伯特伦小姐眼望着铁门，说是想穿过铁门到庭园里看看，以便他们的想法和计划能够更加全面。这正中其他几个人的心意。在亨利·克劳福德看来，这再好不过了，只有这样才能有所帮助。他当即发现，不到半英里以外有座小山丘，站在上边恰好可以俯瞰大宅。因此，他们必须到那山丘上，而且就打这铁门出去。可是门却锁着。拉什沃思先生后悔没带钥匙。他出来的时候，曾隐约想过是否要带钥匙，现在下定了决心，今后再来这里决不能不带钥匙。可是，这仍然不能解决眼下的问题。他们出不了铁门。由于伯特伦小姐要出铁门的愿望丝毫未减，最后拉什沃思先生爽快地宣布，他要去取钥匙。于是，他就走了。
“我们离大宅这么远，这无疑是我们所能采取的最好办法，”拉什沃思先生走后，克劳福德先生说。
“是的，没有别的办法。不过说实话，难道你不觉得这座庭园总的来说比你预想的要差吗？”
“那倒没有，事实恰恰相反。我觉得比我预想的更好、更气派，就其风格来说更趋完美，虽说这种风格可能算不上是最好的。跟你说实话，”克劳福德先生声音压得低低地说，“我想，我要是再看到索瑟顿的话，就决不会像这次这样兴高采烈了。一到了明年夏天，我也不会觉得它改善得比现在更好。”
伯特伦小姐不知说什么是好，过了一会才答道：“你是个深通世故的人，自然会用世俗的眼光看问题。要是别人觉得索瑟顿变得更好了，我相信你也会那样看的。”
“我恐怕还不是个那么深通世故的人，因此不会去顾及在某些方面于己是否有利。我的感情不像老于世故的人那样说变就变，我对往事的记忆也不像老于世故的人那样容易受别人的影响。”
接着是一阵短暂的沉默。伯特伦小姐又开口了：“今天上午你赶车来这里的时候，好像赶得很开心。我看到你那样快乐感到很高兴。你和朱莉娅笑了一路。”
“是吗？不错，我想我们是笑了一路，不过我丝毫记不得为什么而笑。噢！我想我给她讲了我叔叔的爱尔兰老马夫的一些滑稽故事。你妹妹就爱笑。”
“你觉得她比我开朗吧。”
“更容易被逗乐，”克劳福德先生答道，“因而，你知道，”说着笑了笑，“更适合做伴。我想，在十英里的旅途中，我很难拿一些爱尔兰的奇闻逗你开心的。”
“我想，我天性和朱莉娅一样快活，不过我现在的心事比她多。”
“你的心事肯定比她多——在有些处境下，情绪高涨会意味着麻木不仁。不过你前程似锦，不该情绪低落。你的前面是一片明媚的景色。”
“你说的是字面意思还是比喻意义？我想是字面意思吧。景色的确不错，阳光灿烂，庭园令人赏心悦目。但遗憾的是，这座铁门、这道隐篱，给我一种约束和困苦的感觉。正如椋鸟说的那样：‘我无法飞出牢笼。’①” (译注：①引自英国小说家劳伦斯·斯特恩(1713-1768)所著《感伤的旅程》。) 伯特伦小姐面带表情地一边说，一边向铁门走去，克劳福德先生跟在她后边。“拉什沃思先生取钥匙去了这么长时间！”
“没有钥匙，没有拉什沃思先生的许可相保护，你无论如何也是出不去的。不然的话，我想在我的帮助下，你可以毫不费力地从门上边翻过去。如果你真的想要自由，并且认为这不犯禁，我想还是可以这样做的。”
“犯禁！什么话呀！我当然可以那样出去，而且就要那样出去。你知道，拉什沃思先生一会儿就会回来——他不会看不见我们的。”
“即使他看不见我们，还可以请普莱斯小姐告诉他，让他到山丘附近，到山丘上的橡树林里找我们。”
范妮觉得这样做不妥，忍不住想要加以阻止。“你会受伤的，伯特伦小姐，”她嚷道。“那些尖头肯定会把你刺伤——会撕破你的衣服——你会掉到隐篱里去。你最好不要过去。”
话音未落，她表姐已平安无事地翻到了那边，脸上挂着洋洋得意的微笑，说道：“谢谢你，亲爱的范妮，我和我的衣服都安然无恙，再见。”
范妮又一次被孤零零地扔在那里，心情并不比原来好受。她几乎为她耳闻目睹的一切感到难过，对伯特伦小姐感到惊讶，对克劳福德先生感到气恼。他们俩采取一条迂回路线，一条在她看来很不合理的路线，朝小山丘走去，很快就走没影了。就这样又过了一会，她既见不到人，也听不到什么动静。整个小树林里似乎就她一个人。她几乎感到，埃德蒙和克劳福德小姐已经离开了树林，可是埃德蒙不会把她忘得这么彻底。
突然传来一阵脚步声，又一次把她从懊恼的沉思中惊醒，有人脚步匆匆地顺着主径走来了。她以为是拉什沃思先生，不料却是朱莉娅，只见她又热又气喘吁吁，满脸失望的样子，一见到范妮便嚷嚷道：“啊！别人都哪儿去了？我还以为玛丽亚和克劳福德先生和你在一起呢。”
范妮说明了事情的原委。
“我敢说，他们在捣鬼！我哪儿也看不到他们，”朱莉娅一边说一边用急切的目光往庭园里搜寻。“不过他们不会离这儿很远，我想玛丽亚能做到的事我也能做到，甚至不用别人搀扶。”
“不过，朱莉娅，拉什沃思先生马上就会拿来钥匙。你还是等等他吧。”
“我才不等哪。我一个上午都在陪这家人，够腻烦的了。听着，姑娘，我是刚刚摆脱他那令人讨厌透顶的妈妈。你安安静静、快快活活地坐在这里，我却一直在活受罪呀！也许当初可以让你来干我这份差事，可你总是设法避开这种尴尬局面。”
对范妮的这番责难极不公正，不过范妮倒能宽容，不予计较。朱莉娅心里有气，性子又急，不过她觉得持续不了多久，因而未予理会，只是问她有没有见到拉什沃思先生。
“见到了，见到了。他风风火火地跑开了，好像性命攸关似的，只是仓促地对我们说了声他去干什么，你们都在哪里。”
“可惜他白辛苦了一场。”
“那是玛丽亚小姐的事。我犯不着因为她的过失而跟自己过不去。讨厌的大姨妈拉着管家婆东游西逛，弄得我甩不开拉什沃思太太，不过她儿子我可甩得掉。”
朱莉娅立即爬过栅栏走开了，也不理会范妮问的最后一个问题：她有没有看见克劳福德小姐和埃德蒙。不过，范妮坐在那里，由于担心看到拉什沃思先生，不再一味地去琢磨他们久去不归。她觉得他们太对不住拉什沃思先生，而刚才的事还得由她来告诉拉什沃思先生，她感到非常难受。朱莉娅跳出栅栏不到五分钟，拉什沃思先生便赶来了。范妮尽管把事情讲得十分婉转，但看得出来，拉什沃思先生感到非同一般的屈辱和气愤。起初他几乎什么都不说，只是脸上表现出极度的惊讶和恼怒，随即便走到铁门跟前，站在那里，仿佛不知如何是好。
“他们要我待在这儿——玛丽亚表姐叫我转告你，你可以在那座山丘或附近一带找到他们。”
“我想我一步也不想往前走了，”拉什沃思先生气呼呼地说。“我连他们的影子都看不见。等我赶到山丘那儿，他们也许又到别的地方了。我走路已经走得够多了。”
他在范妮身旁坐下，脸色异常阴郁。
“我感到很抱歉，”范妮说。“真令人遗憾。”她很想再说点妥帖的安慰话。
沉默了一阵之后，拉什沃思先生说：“我想他们完全可以在这儿等我。”
“伯特伦小姐认为你会去找她的。”
“她要是待在这儿，我就不用去找她了。”
这话是毋庸置疑的，因此范妮沉默不语。又停了一阵之后，拉什沃思先生继续说道：“请问，普莱斯小姐，你是不是像有些人那样，对这位克劳福德先生崇拜得五体投地？我却看不出他有什么了不起的。”
“我觉得他一点也不漂亮。”
“漂亮！谁也不会说这么一个矮小的男人漂亮。他还不到五英尺九英寸。我看他可能还不到五英尺八英寸。我觉得这家伙不好看。依我看，克劳福德家这兄妹俩完全是多余的，没有他们我们照样过得挺好。”
范妮一听这话，不由得轻轻叹息了一声，她不知道如何反驳他。
“假如我说过取钥匙有什么难处的话，他们不等我倒也情有可原，可是伯特伦小姐一说要钥匙，我就赶忙去取了。”
“我敢说，你当时表现得再爽快不过了，我认为你走路的速度不能再快了。不过你如道，从这里到大宅，再到大宅里面，总还是有一段距离。而人在等待的时候，对时间就把握不准了，每过半分钟就像是过了五分钟。”
拉什沃思先生站起身来，又走到铁门跟前，嘴里说：“我当时身上带钥匙就好了。”范妮见他站在那里，觉得他态度有所缓和，由此受到鼓励，想再劝说一次，于是便说道：“真遗憾，你没跟他们一起去。他们认为从庭园的那个地方可以更好地察看大宅，可以琢磨如何加以改进。可你要知道，你不在场，这种事什么也定不下来。”
范妮发现，把一个伙伴打发走比把他留在身边还要顺利些。拉什沃思先生被说动了。“好吧，”他说，“如果你真认为我还是去的好，我也不该白去取了一趟钥匙。”他开门走了出去，也没再打个招呼便走开了。
这时候，范妮的心思完全回到了离她已久的那两个人身上，实在耐不住了，便决定去找他们。她顺着林边小路，朝他们去的方向走去，刚转到另一条小路上，便又一次听到了克劳福德小姐的说话声和笑声。声音越来越近，又转了几个弯，那两个人便出现在她面前。据他们说，他们是刚从庭园回到荒野上来的。他们离开她没走多久，便遇到一个边门没锁，于是情不自禁地走了进去。他们在庭园里走了一阵，终于走上了范妮一上午都盼着要去的那条林荫大道，在一棵树下坐了下来。原来他们是这样玩的。显然，他们玩得非常快活，忘记了已离开她有多久。埃德蒙对范妮说，他多么希望她也和他们在一起，当时若不是因为她已经走不动了，他肯定会回来叫她一块去的。这些话是对范妮的莫大安慰，但还不足以消除她内心的委屈，表哥本来说过一会就回来，却把她撂下了整整一个小时；也不足以驱除她的好奇心，她想知道他们在此期间一直在谈些什么。到头来，她只能感到失望和伤心，因为她们一致表示，要回大宅去了。
拉什沃思太太和诺里斯太太走到阶径的台阶跟前，来到了顶部，准备往荒野走去，这时她们离开大宅已足有一个半小时了。诺里斯太太分心的事情太多，因而无法走快。尽管外甥女都遇到了不顺心的事，心里快活不起来，她却觉得一上午十分开心——女管家先是客客气气地就野鸡问题向她介绍了许多情况，接着把她领到奶牛场，又把奶牛的情况做了详细的介绍，给了她一张领单，让她去领一包有名的奶酪。朱莉娅离开她们之后，她们又遇到了园丁。诺里斯太太极其高兴能与园丁相识，因为她为园丁判明了他孙子的病症，告诉他说他孙子得的是疟疾，答应给他一个治疟疾的符咒。为了报答她，园丁领她参观了他所有的奇花异草，还把一株非常稀罕的石楠送给了她。
相遇之后，大家一起回到大宅，坐在沙发上聊天，看《评论季刊》，借以消磨时间，等待其他人回来，等候开饭。两位伯特伦小姐和两位男士回来时天色已晚，他们的出游看来并不怎么愉快，也丝毫无助于这天原来的计划。照他们的说法，他们一直在你找我我找你，最后虽然终于碰到了一起，但是照范妮看来，似乎为时过晚，难以恢复原来的和谐关系，而且正如他们所说的，也来不及做出改造庄园的任何决定。她看了看朱莉娅和拉什沃思先生，觉得心中不快的并不止她一个人，他们两人都是满脸阴沉沉的。克劳福德先生和伯特伦小姐要快活得多，她觉得吃饭的时候，克劳福德先生煞费苦心地想要消除那两个人对他的怨恨，使席间个个都喜笑颜开。
饭后不久，送来了茶和咖啡，由于坐车回家还要走十‘英里，不允许耽搁很多时间，因而从就座入席开始，到马车来到门前为止，一连串无关紧要的客套应酬进行得紧紧张张，诺里斯太太先是坐立不安地折腾了一番，接着从女管家那里弄到几只野鸡蛋和一包奶酪，又对拉什沃思太太说了一大堆客气话，便准备带头动身了。与此同时，克劳福德先生走到朱莉娅跟前，说道：“我来时的伙伴如果不怕在夜色中坐在一个无遮无挡的位置上，我希望她回去时还能和我坐在一起。”朱莉娅没有料到他会提出这一请求，但却和颜悦色地接受了，她这一天的结局很可能像开始一样愉快。伯特伦小姐本来心里另有打算，现在却有点失望——不过，她深信克劳福德先生真正的意中人是她，这使她足可聊以自慰，并能得体地接受拉什沃思先生临别时的殷勤。毫无疑问，比起把她扶上驾驶座来，克劳福德先生倒更乐意把她扶进马车——这样的安排越发使他自呜得意。
“范妮，我敢说你这一天过得不错呀！”马车打庭园里驶过时，诺里斯太太说。“自始至终好开心啊！我想你应该非常感激伯特伦姨妈和我，是我们安排让你来的。你这一天玩得多快活呀！”
玛丽亚心中不满，直言不讳地说：“我想，姨妈，你真是大获丰收啊。你怀里好像抱满了好东西，我们之间有一只篮子，里面装着什么东西，一直在碰我的胳膊肘，碰得我好痛。”
“亲爱的，那只不过是一小株漂亮的石楠，那个好心的老园丁非要叫我带上。不过要是妨碍了你，我这就把它抱在腿上。喂，范妮，你给我拿着那个包——要小心 ——不要掉下来。里边是奶酪，就是我们吃饭时吃的那种高级奶酪。那位惠特克太太真好，非让我拿一包不行。我一直不肯拿，后来见她都快急哭了才拿了一包。我知道我妹妹就喜欢这东西。那个惠特克太太真是个难得的好管家呀！我问她仆人在饭桌上是否允许喝酒时，她都吓了一跳。有两个女仆因为穿白裙子被她辞退了。小心奶酪，范妮。现在，我能照顾好另一个包裹和篮子了。”
“你还白捞来了些什么？”玛丽亚说，听了对方以这样的话恭维索瑟顿，颇有几分得意。
“亲爱的，怎么是白捞！只不过是四只漂亮的野鸡蛋，惠特克太太非要逼着我拿，我不拿她就不答应。她说她知道我孤零零一个人过日子，能养那么几个小生灵，一定会给我带来乐趣。我想肯定会很好玩。我打算把它们交给牛奶房女工，一有母鸡抱窝，就塞进去。要是能抱出来，我就把它们弄回家，借个鸡笼。我寂寞的时候摆弄摆弄它们，倒会很有意思。我要是养得好，还会给你母亲几只。”
当晚夜色很美，又温和又宁静，在如此静谧的大自然中坐车旅行，真是再惬意不过了。不过，诺里斯太太一不说话，车里的人便静悄悄了。他们都已疲惫不堪——几乎所有的人都在琢磨，这一天给他们带来的是愉快还是痛苦。
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Chapter Eleven
The day at Sotherton, with all its imperfections, afforded the Miss Bertrams much more agreeable feelings than were derived from the letters from Antigua, which soon afterwards reached Mansfield. It was much pleasanter to think of Henry Crawford than of their father; and to think of their father in England again within a certain period, which these letters obliged them to do, was a most unwelcome exercise.
November was the black month fixed for his return. Sir Thomas wrote of it with as much decision as experience and anxiety could authorise. His business was so nearly concluded as to justify him in proposing to take his passage in the September packet, and he consequently looked forward with the hope of being with his beloved family again early in November.
Maria was more to be pitied than Julia; for to her the father brought a husband, and the return of the friend most solicitous for her happiness would unite her to the lover, on whom she had chosen that happiness should depend. It was a gloomy prospect, and all she could do was to throw a mist over it, and hope when the mist cleared away she should see something else. It would hardly be _early_ in November, there were generally delays, a bad passage or _something_; that favouring _something_ which everybody who shuts their eyes while they look, or their understandings while they reason, feels the comfort of. It would probably be the middle of November at least; the middle of November was three months off. Three months comprised thirteen weeks. Much might happen in thirteen weeks.
Sir Thomas would have been deeply mortified by a suspicion of half that his daughters felt on the subject of his return, and would hardly have found consolation in a knowledge of the interest it excited in the breast of another young lady. Miss Crawford, on walking up with her brother to spend the evening at Mansfield Park, heard the good news; and though seeming to have no concern in the affair beyond politeness, and to have vented all her feelings in a quiet congratulation, heard it with an attention not so easily satisfied. Mrs. Norris gave the particulars of the letters, and the subject was dropt; but after tea, as Miss Crawford was standing at an open window with Edmund and Fanny looking out on a twilight scene, while the Miss Bertrams, Mr. Rushworth, and Henry Crawford were all busy with candles at the pianoforte, she suddenly revived it by turning round towards the group, and saying, "How happy Mr. Rushworth looks! He is thinking of November."
Edmund looked round at Mr. Rushworth too, but had nothing to say.
"Your father's return will be a very interesting event."
"It will, indeed, after such an absence; an absence not only long, but including so many dangers."
"It will be the forerunner also of other interesting events: your sister's marriage, and your taking orders."
"Yes."
"Don't be affronted," said she, laughing, "but it does put me in mind of some of the old heathen heroes, who, after performing great exploits in a foreign land, offered sacrifices to the gods on their safe return."
"There is no sacrifice in the case," replied Edmund, with a serious smile, and glancing at the pianoforte again; "it is entirely her own doing."
"Oh yes I know it is. I was merely joking. She has done no more than what every young woman would do; and I have no doubt of her being extremely happy. My other sacrifice, of course, you do not understand."
"My taking orders, I assure you, is quite as voluntary as Maria's marrying."
"It is fortunate that your inclination and your father's convenience should accord so well. There is a very good living kept for you, I understand, hereabouts."
"Which you suppose has biassed me?"
"But _that_ I am sure it has not," cried Fanny.
"Thank you for your good word, Fanny, but it is more than I would affirm myself. On the contrary, the knowing that there was such a provision for me probably did bias me. Nor can I think it wrong that it should. There was no natural disinclination to be overcome, and I see no reason why a man should make a worse clergyman for knowing that he will have a competence early in life. I was in safe hands. I hope I should not have been influenced myself in a wrong way, and I am sure my father was too conscientious to have allowed it. I have no doubt that I was biased, but I think it was blamelessly."
"It is the same sort of thing," said Fanny, after a short pause, "as for the son of an admiral to go into the navy, or the son of a general to be in the army, and nobody sees anything wrong in that. Nobody wonders that they should prefer the line where their friends can serve them best, or suspects them to be less in earnest in it than they appear."
"No, my dear Miss Price, and for reasons good. The profession, either navy or army, is its own justification. It has everything in its favour: heroism, danger, bustle, fashion. Soldiers and sailors are always acceptable in society. Nobody can wonder that men are soldiers and sailors."
"But the motives of a man who takes orders with the certainty of preferment may be fairly suspected, you think?" said Edmund. "To be justified in your eyes, he must do it in the most complete uncertainty of any provision."
"What! take orders without a living! No; that is madness indeed; absolute madness."
"Shall I ask you how the church is to be filled, if a man is neither to take orders with a living nor without? No; for you certainly would not know what to say. But I must beg some advantage to the clergyman from your own argument. As he cannot be influenced by those feelings which you rank highly as temptation and reward to the soldier and sailor in their choice of a profession, as heroism, and noise, and fashion, are all against him, he ought to be less liable to the suspicion of wanting sincerity or good intentions in the choice of his."
"Oh! no doubt he is very sincere in preferring an income ready made, to the trouble of working for one; and has the best intentions of doing nothing all the rest of his days but eat, drink, and grow fat. It is indolence, Mr. Bertram, indeed. Indolence and love of ease; a want of all laudable ambition, of taste for good company, or of inclination to take the trouble of being agreeable, which make men clergymen. A clergyman has nothing to do but be slovenly and selfish--read the newspaper, watch the weather, and quarrel with his wife. His curate does all the work, and the business of his own life is to dine."
"There are such clergymen, no doubt, but I think they are not so common as to justify Miss Crawford in esteeming it their general character. I suspect that in this comprehensive and (may I say) commonplace censure, you are not judging from yourself, but from prejudiced persons, whose opinions you have been in the habit of hearing. It is impossible that your own observation can have given you much knowledge of the clergy. You can have been personally acquainted with very few of a set of men you condemn so conclusively. You are speaking what you have been told at your uncle's table."
"I speak what appears to me the general opinion; and where an opinion is general, it is usually correct. Though _I_ have not seen much of the domestic lives of clergymen, it is seen by too many to leave any deficiency of information."
"Where any one body of educated men, of whatever denomination, are condemned indiscriminately, there must be a deficiency of information, or (smiling) of something else. Your uncle, and his brother admirals, perhaps knew little of clergymen beyond the chaplains whom, good or bad, they were always wishing away."
"Poor William! He has met with great kindness from the chaplain of the Antwerp," was a tender apostrophe of Fanny's, very much to the purpose of her own feelings if not of the conversation.
"I have been so little addicted to take my opinions from my uncle," said Miss Crawford, "that I can hardly suppose-- and since you push me so hard, I must observe, that I am not entirely without the means of seeing what clergymen are, being at this present time the guest of my own brother, Dr. Grant. And though Dr. Grant is most kind and obliging to me, and though he is really a gentleman, and, I dare say, a good scholar and clever, and often preaches good sermons, and is very respectable, _I_ see him to be an indolent, selfish _bon_ _vivant_, who must have his palate consulted in everything; who will not stir a finger for the convenience of any one; and who, moreover, if the cook makes a blunder, is out of humour with his excellent wife. To own the truth, Henry and I were partly driven out this very evening by a disappointment about a green goose, which he could not get the better of. My poor sister was forced to stay and bear it."
"I do not wonder at your disapprobation, upon my word. It is a great defect of temper, made worse by a very faulty habit of self-indulgence; and to see your sister suffering from it must be exceedingly painful to such feelings as yours. Fanny, it goes against us. We cannot attempt to defend Dr. Grant."
"No," replied Fanny, "but we need not give up his profession for all that; because, whatever profession Dr. Grant had chosen, he would have taken a--not a good temper into it; and as he must, either in the navy or army, have had a great many more people under his command than he has now, I think more would have been made unhappy by him as a sailor or soldier than as a clergyman. Besides, I cannot but suppose that whatever there may be to wish otherwise in Dr. Grant would have been in a greater danger of becoming worse in a more active and worldly profession, where he would have had less time and obligation-- where he might have escaped that knowledge of himself, the _frequency_, at least, of that knowledge which it is impossible he should escape as he is now. A man-- a sensible man like Dr. Grant, cannot be in the habit of teaching others their duty every week, cannot go to church twice every Sunday, and preach such very good sermons in so good a manner as he does, without being the better for it himself. It must make him think; and I have no doubt that he oftener endeavours to restrain himself than he would if he had been anything but a clergyman."
"We cannot prove to the contrary, to be sure; but I wish you a better fate, Miss Price, than to be the wife of a man whose amiableness depends upon his own sermons; for though he may preach himself into a good-humour every Sunday, it will be bad enough to have him quarrelling about green geese from Monday morning till Saturday night."
"I think the man who could often quarrel with Fanny," said Edmund affectionately, "must be beyond the reach of any sermons."
Fanny turned farther into the window; and Miss Crawford had only time to say, in a pleasant manner, "I fancy Miss Price has been more used to deserve praise than to hear it"; when, being earnestly invited by the Miss Bertrams to join in a glee, she tripped off to the instrument, leaving Edmund looking after her in an ecstasy of admiration of all her many virtues, from her obliging manners down to her light and graceful tread.
"There goes good-humour, I am sure," said he presently. "There goes a temper which would never give pain! How well she walks! and how readily she falls in with the inclination of others! joining them the moment she is asked. What a pity," he added, after an instant's reflection, "that she should have been in such hands!"
Fanny agreed to it, and had the pleasure of seeing him continue at the window with her, in spite of the expected glee; and of having his eyes soon turned, like hers, towards the scene without, where all that was solemn, and soothing, and lovely, appeared in the brilliancy of an unclouded night, and the contrast of the deep shade of the woods. Fanny spoke her feelings. "Here's harmony!" said she; "here's repose! Here's what may leave all painting and all music behind, and what poetry only can attempt to describe! Here's what may tranquillise every care, and lift the heart to rapture! When I look out on such a night as this, I feel as if there could be neither wickedness nor sorrow in the world; and there certainly would be less of both if the sublimity of Nature were more attended to, and people were carried more out of themselves by contemplating such a scene."
"I like to hear your enthusiasm, Fanny. It is a lovely night, and they are much to be pitied who have not been taught to feel, in some degree, as you do; who have not, at least, been given a taste for Nature in early life. They lose a great deal."
"_You_ taught me to think and feel on the subject, cousin."
"I had a very apt scholar. There's Arcturus looking very bright."
"Yes, and the Bear. I wish I could see Cassiopeia."
"We must go out on the lawn for that. Should you be afraid?"
"Not in the least. It is a great while since we have had any star-gazing.
"Yes; I do not know how it has happened." The glee began. "We will stay till this is finished, Fanny," said he, turning his back on the window; and as it advanced, she had the mortification of seeing him advance too, moving forward by gentle degrees towards the instrument, and when it ceased, he was close by the singers, among the most urgent in requesting to hear the glee again.
Fanny sighed alone at the window till scolded away by Mrs. Norris's threats of catching cold.
在索瑟顿度过的这一天，尽管有这样那样的不能令人满意之处，但对两位伯特伦小姐来说，比起尔后不久从安提瓜寄回曼斯菲尔德的那些信件来，却使她们心里觉得愉快得多。想念亨利-克劳福德比想念她们的父亲有意思得多。信上告诉她们，她们的父亲过一阵就要回到英国，这是让她们想起来最头痛的一件事。
11月是个令人沮丧的月份，做父亲的决定在这个月份到家。托马斯爵士对此写得毫不含糊，只有老练而又归心似箭的人才会有这样的写法。他的事情眼看就要办完了，提出乘坐9月份的邮船回国是有正当理由的。因此，他也就盼着11月初能和亲爱的妻子儿女重新团聚。
玛丽亚比朱莉娅更为可怜，因为父亲一回来她就得嫁人。父亲最关心她的幸福，回来后就会要她嫁给她原来为了她的幸福而选定的意中人。前景是暗淡的，她只能给它蒙上一层迷雾，希望迷雾消散之后，能出现另一番景象。父亲不大会是11月初回来，凡事总会有个耽搁，比如航行不顺利或是出点什么事。凡是不敢正视现实、不敢接受现实的人，都会幻想出点什么事来寻求慰藉。可能至少要到11月中旬，离现在还有三个月。三个月就有十三个星期。十三个星期可能发生很多事情。
托马斯爵士要是知道一点点他的两位女儿对他回家一事的想法，定会伤透了心。他要是知道他回来的事在另一位小姐心里引起的关注，也不会感到安慰。克劳福德小姐和她哥哥晚上到曼斯菲尔德庄园来玩，听到了这个好消息。她虽说出于礼貌地问了问，并不显得多么关心，只是心平气和地表示一番祝贺，但却聚精会神一字不漏地听别人讲这件事。诺里斯太太把信的内容详详细细地告诉了大家，然后便抛开了这个话题。但是喝过茶以后，当克劳福德小姐和埃德蒙、范妮一起站在敞开的窗口观看黄昏景色，而两位伯特伦小姐、拉什沃思先生和亨利·克劳福德在钢琴旁边忙着点蜡烛的时候，她突然朝他们转过身来，重新捡起了这个话题，说道：“拉什沃思先生看样子多高兴啊！他在想11月份呢。”
埃德蒙也转过头来望着拉什沃思先生，不过没说什么。
“你父亲回来可是件大喜事。”
“还真是件大喜事呢，都离家这么久了。不仅时间久，而且还担了那么多风险。”
“这件喜事还会引出别的喜事来：你妹妹出嫁，你接受圣职。”
“是的。”
“说出来你可不要生气，”克劳福德小姐笑着说，“这件事真让我想起了一些异教英雄，他们在国外立了大功，平安回来后就奉献点牺牲品来祭神。”
“这件事上没有什么牺牲品可言，”埃德蒙虽然一本正经但仍然面带笑容地答道，一边又向钢琴那边瞥了一眼，“那完全是她自己愿意。”
“噢！是的，我知道她自己愿意。我只不过是开个玩笑。她没有超出一般年轻女子做事的分寸。我毫不怀疑她极其乐意。我说的另一桩牺牲你当然不理解。”
“我可以向你保证，我去当牧师和玛丽亚要结婚一样，完全是出于自愿。”
“幸好你的意愿和你父亲的需要恰好一致。我听说，这附近给你保留了一个收入很高的牧师职位。”
“你认为我是因此才愿意当牧师的。”
“我知道他绝不是为了这个原因，”范妮嚷道。
“谢谢你的美言，范妮，不过我自己可不敢这么说。恰好相反，很可能正是因为我知道我会有这样一份生活保障，我才愿意当牧师的。我觉得这也不算错。再说也不存在什么天生的抵触情绪。如果说一个人由于知道自己早年会有一份不错的收入，从而就做不成一个好牧师，我看这是没有什么根据的。我掌握在可靠的人的手中。我想我并没有受到不良的影响，我认为我父亲非常认真负责，也不会让我受到不良的影响。我毫不怀疑我在这件事上是有个人考虑的，可我认为这是无可指摘的。”
“这就像是，”稍顿了一会后，范妮说道，“海军将领的儿子要参加海军，陆军将领的儿子要参加陆军，谁也不能说这种事情有什么错的。他们想要选择亲朋最能帮得上忙的那一行，谁也不会对此感到奇怪，也不会认为他们干上这一行之后，并不像表面上装得那么认真。”
“是的，亲爱的普莱斯小姐，从道理上说的确如此。就职业本身而言，不论是海军还是陆军，这样做是有道理的。这样的职业，从各方面看都受人敬仰：它需要大无畏的精神，要冒送命的危险，充满惊天动地的场面，还有威武雄壮的打扮。陆军和海军总是受到上流社会的欢迎。男子汉参加陆军和海军，谁也不会感到奇怪。”
“可是一个男子汉由于明知要得到一份俸禄而去当牧师，他的动机就要受到怀疑，你是这样想的吧？”埃德蒙说。“在你看来，他要证明自己动机纯正，就必须在事前丝毫不知道是否有俸禄的情况下去当牧师。”
“什么！没有俸禄去当牧师！不，那真是发疯，不折不扣的发疯！”
“我是否可以问你一句：如果有俸禄不去当牧师，没俸禄也不去当牧师，那教会的牧师从哪里来呢？我还是不问为好，因为你肯定无法回答。不过，我想从你的论点来为牧师们做点辩护。由于牧师不受你所欣赏的那些引诱人们去参加海军、陆军的种种思想的影响，由于大无畏精神、惊天动地、威武雄壮都与他们无缘，他们在选择自己的职业时，其真诚与好意更不应该受到怀疑。”
“噢！他们的确很真诚，宁愿要一份现成的收入，而不肯靠干活去挣一份收入。他们的确也是一片好意，今后一生就能无所事事，只要吃吃喝喝，长得肥肥胖胖。这实在是懒惰呀，伯特伦先生。懒惰，贪图安逸——没有雄心壮志，不喜欢结交上等人，不愿意尽力讨人喜欢，正是这些毛病使一些人当上了牧师。牧师无事可做，只会邋里邋遢，自私自利——读读报，看看天气，和妻子拌嘴吵架。所有的事务都由助理牧师来做，他自己的日常事务就是应邀赴宴。”
“这样的牧师肯定有，可我认为人数并没有那么多，克劳福德小姐把这种现象视为牧师的通病是不恰当的。你把牧师全都说得一无是处，你这种陈腐的指责——请允许我这样说，我想不是你自己的看法，而是和抱有偏见的人在一起，听惯了他们的意见。你凭着自己的观察，不可能对牧师有多少了解。你这么无情地指责的这类人中，你直接认识的没有几个。你讲的这些话是在你叔叔的饭桌上听来的。”
“我所说的话，我认为是大家的普遍看法，而大家的普遍看法通常是正确的。虽然我没怎么亲眼见识过牧师们的家庭生活，但很多人都亲眼见识过了，因此那些话不会毫无根据。”
“任何一个有文化的人组成的团体，不管它属于哪个派别，如果有人不分青红皂白地认为它的每个人都很糟，他的话肯定有不可靠的地方，或者（笑了笑）有什么别的成分。你叔叔和他的将军同事们除随军牧师外，对牧师们的情况并不了解，而对随军牧师，不论是好是坏，概不欢迎。”
“可怜的威廉！他可受到安特卫普号上的随军牧师的多方关照，”范妮深情地说，虽然与所谈话题无关，却是她真情的流露。
“我才不喜欢听信我叔叔的意见呢，”克劳福德小姐说，“这叫我难以想象。既然你逼人太甚，我不得不说，我并非丝毫没有办法了解牧师是什么样的人，我眼下就在我姐夫格兰特博士家做客。虽然格兰特博士待我非常好，对我关怀备至，虽然他是个真正有教养的人，而且我敢说还是个知识渊博的学者，是个聪明人，布道往往很受欢迎，为人也很体面，可在我看来，他就是个懒惰、自私、养尊处优的人，凡事以吃喝为重，不肯帮别人一点点忙，而且，要是厨子没把饭做好，他就冲他那好得不得了的妻子发脾气。对你们实说了吧，亨利和我今晚在一定意义上是被逼出来的，因为一只鹅做嫩了，不合他的意，他就气个没完。我那可怜的姐姐不得不待在家里受气。”
“说实语，我对你的不满并不感到奇怪。他在性情上有很大的缺陷，而自我放纵的不良习惯又使他的性情变得更坏。像你这种心地的人，眼见着姐姐受这样的气，心里一定不是滋味。范妮，我们不赞成这种行为。我们可不能为格兰特博士辩护。”
“是不能，”范妮答道，“不过，我们不能因此就否定他这行职业。格兰特博士不管干哪一行，都会把他的坏脾气带到那一行去。他要是参加海军或陆军的话，他手下指挥的人肯定比现在多得多。我想，他当海军军官或陆军军官，会比他当牧师给更多的人带来不幸。再说，我只觉得，不论我们希望格兰特博士干的是别的哪一行，他在那紧张的世俗的行业里很有可能比现在还糟糕，因为那样一来，他就没有那么多时间和义务来反省自己——他就会逃避自我反省，至少会减少自我反省的次数，而现在他却逃避不掉。一个人——一个像格兰特博士这样有头脑的人，每个星期都在教育别人怎样做人，每个星期天都要做两次礼拜，和颜悦色地讲道，而且讲得那么好，他本人岂能不因此变得好一些。这肯定会让他有所思考。我深信，他当牧师比干哪一行都能多做些自我约束。”
“当然我们无法证明相反的情况——不过我祝愿你的命运好一些，普莱斯小姐，不要做一个靠讲道才能变得和蔼些的人的妻子。这样的人虽然每个星期天可以借助讲道使自己和和气气，但从星期一上午到星期六晚上因为鹅肉做嫩了跟你争争吵吵，也就够糟糕的了。”
“我想能常和范妮吵架的人，”埃德蒙亲切地说，“即使讲道也感化不了。”
范妮转过脸去，探身窗外。克劳福德小姐带着快活的神态说道：“我想普莱斯小姐往往是值得受人称赞，却又不习惯于听人称赞自己。”她刚说完，两位伯特伦小姐便恳切地邀请她去参加三重唱，她轻快地向钢琴那儿走去，埃德蒙望着她的背影，揣摩着她的种种好处，从谦恭和悦的仪态到轻盈优美的步履，真让他心醉神迷。
“我相信她一定是个好脾气，”埃德蒙随即说。“这样的脾气永远不会给人带来痛苦！她走起路来多优美呀！她接受别人的意愿多爽快呀！一叫她就过去了。真可惜，”他想了想又说，“她居然落在这样一些人的手里！”
范妮同意他的说法。她感到高兴的是，他继续和她待在窗前，不去理会就要开始的三重唱，并且马上像她一样把目光转向窗外的景色。在清澈灿烂的夜空中，在浓黯的林荫的衬托下，一切都显得肃穆宜人，令人心旷神怡。范妮抒发起自己的情感来。“这景色多么和谐呀！”她说。“多么恬静啊！比什么图画、什么音乐都美，就连诗歌也难尽言其妙。它能让你忘掉人间的一切烦恼，使你的心乐不可支！每当这样的夜晚我临窗外眺的时候，我就觉得好像世界上既没有邪恶也没有忧伤。如果人们多留神大自然的崇高壮丽，多看看这样的景色而忘掉自我，邪恶和忧伤一定会减少。”
“我喜欢听你抒发自己的激情，范妮。这是个令人心旷神怡的夜晚，那些没有像你那样受过一定熏陶的人——至少是那些在早年没有受过爱好自然的培育的人，是非常可怜的。他们失去了许多东西。”
“表哥，是你培养了我这方面的思想情感。”
“我教的这个学生非常聪明。那儿是大熊星，非常明亮。”
“是的，还有大熊星。要是能看见仙后星就好了。”
“那得到草坪上才能看到。你怕不怕？”
“一点也不怕。我们好久没有观看星星了。’
“是的，我也不知道是怎么回事。”三重唱开始了。“我们等她们唱完了再出去吧，范妮，”埃德蒙一边说，一边转过脸，背向窗户。范妮见他随着歌声在一点一点地朝钢琴那儿移动，心里感到一阵屈辱。等歌声停下时，埃德蒙已走到歌手跟前，跟大家一起热烈地要求她们再唱一遍。
范妮一个人站在窗前叹息．直至诺里斯太太责备她当心着凉，她才离开。
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Chapter Twelve
Sir Thomas was to return in November, and his eldest son had duties to call him earlier home. The approach of September brought tidings of Mr. Bertram, first in a letter to the gamekeeper and then in a letter to Edmund; and by the end of August he arrived himself, to be gay, agreeable, and gallant again as occasion served, or Miss Crawford demanded; to tell of races and Weymouth, and parties and friends, to which she might have listened six weeks before with some interest, and altogether to give her the fullest conviction, by the power of actual comparison, of her preferring his younger brother.
It was very vexatious, and she was heartily sorry for it; but so it was; and so far from now meaning to marry the elder, she did not even want to attract him beyond what the simplest claims of conscious beauty required: his lengthened absence from Mansfield, without anything but pleasure in view, and his own will to consult, made it perfectly clear that he did not care about her; and his indifference was so much more than equalled by her own, that were he now to step forth the owner of Mansfield Park, the Sir Thomas complete, which he was to be in time, she did not believe she could accept him.
The season and duties which brought Mr. Bertram back to Mansfield took Mr. Crawford into Norfolk. Everingham could not do without him in the beginning of September. He went for a fortnight--a fortnight of such dullness to the Miss Bertrams as ought to have put them both on their guard, and made even Julia admit, in her jealousy of her sister, the absolute necessity of distrusting his attentions, and wishing him not to return; and a fortnight of sufficient leisure, in the intervals of shooting and sleeping, to have convinced the gentleman that he ought to keep longer away, had he been more in the habit of examining his own motives, and of reflecting to what the indulgence of his idle vanity was tending; but, thoughtless and selfish from prosperity and bad example, he would not look beyond the present moment. The sisters, handsome, clever, and encouraging, were an amusement to his sated mind; and finding nothing in Norfolk to equal the social pleasures of Mansfield, he gladly returned to it at the time appointed, and was welcomed thither quite as gladly by those whom he came to trifle with further.
Maria, with only Mr. Rushworth to attend to her, and doomed to the repeated details of his day's sport, good or bad, his boast of his dogs, his jealousy of his neighbours, his doubts of their qualifications, and his zeal after poachers, subjects which will not find their way to female feelings without some talent on one side or some attachment on the other, had missed Mr. Crawford grievously; and Julia, unengaged and unemployed, felt all the right of missing him much more. Each sister believed herself the favourite. Julia might be justified in so doing by the hints of Mrs. Grant, inclined to credit what she wished, and Maria by the hints of Mr. Crawford himself. Everything returned into the same channel as before his absence; his manners being to each so animated and agreeable as to lose no ground with either, and just stopping short of the consistence, the steadiness, the solicitude, and the warmth which might excite general notice.
Fanny was the only one of the party who found anything to dislike; but since the day at Sotherton, she could never see Mr. Crawford with either sister without observation, and seldom without wonder or censure; and had her confidence in her own judgment been equal to her exercise of it in every other respect, had she been sure that she was seeing clearly, and judging candidly, she would probably have made some important communications to her usual confidant. As it was, however, she only hazarded a hint, and the hint was lost. "I am rather surprised," said she, "that Mr. Crawford should come back again so soon, after being here so long before, full seven weeks; for I had understood he was so very fond of change and moving about, that I thought something would certainly occur, when he was once gone, to take him elsewhere. He is used to much gayer places than Mansfield."
"It is to his credit," was Edmund's answer; "and I dare say it gives his sister pleasure. She does not like his unsettled habits."
"What a favourite he is with my cousins!"
"Yes, his manners to women are such as must please. Mrs. Grant, I believe, suspects him of a preference for Julia; I have never seen much symptom of it, but I wish it may be so. He has no faults but what a serious attachment would remove."
"If Miss Bertram were not engaged," said Fanny cautiously, "I could sometimes almost think that he admired her more than Julia."
"Which is, perhaps, more in favour of his liking Julia best, than you, Fanny, may be aware; for I believe it often happens that a man, before he has quite made up his own mind, will distinguish the sister or intimate friend of the woman he is really thinking of more than the woman herself Crawford has too much sense to stay here if he found himself in any danger from Maria; and I am not at all afraid for her, after such a proof as she has given that her feelings are not strong."
Fanny supposed she must have been mistaken, and meant to think differently in future; but with all that submission to Edmund could do, and all the help of the coinciding looks and hints which she occasionally noticed in some of the others, and which seemed to say that Julia was Mr. Crawford's choice, she knew not always what to think. She was privy, one evening, to the hopes of her aunt Norris on the subject, as well as to her feelings, and the feelings of Mrs. Rushworth, on a point of some similarity, and could not help wondering as she listened; and glad would she have been not to be obliged to listen, for it was while all the other young people were dancing, and she sitting, most unwillingly, among the chaperons at the fire, longing for the re-entrance of her elder cousin, on whom all her own hopes of a partner then depended. It was Fanny's first ball, though without the preparation or splendour of many a young lady's first ball, being the thought only of the afternoon, built on the late acquisition of a violin player in the servants' hall, and the possibility of raising five couple with the help of Mrs. Grant and a new intimate friend of Mr. Bertram's just arrived on a visit. It had, however, been a very happy one to Fanny through four dances, and she was quite grieved to be losing even a quarter of an hour. While waiting and wishing, looking now at the dancers and now at the door, this dialogue between the two above-mentioned ladies was forced on her--
"I think, ma'am," said Mrs. Norris, her eyes directed towards Mr. Rushworth and Maria, who were partners for the second time, "we shall see some happy faces again now."
"Yes, ma'am, indeed," replied the other, with a stately simper, "there will be some satisfaction in looking on _now_, and I think it was rather a pity they should have been obliged to part. Young folks in their situation should be excused complying with the common forms. I wonder my son did not propose it."
"I dare say he did, ma'am. Mr. Rushworth is never remiss. But dear Maria has such a strict sense of propriety, so much of that true delicacy which one seldom meets with nowadays, Mrs. Rushworth--that wish of avoiding particularity! Dear ma'am, only look at her face at this moment; how different from what it was the two last dances!"
Miss Bertram did indeed look happy, her eyes were sparkling with pleasure, and she was speaking with great animation, for Julia and her partner, Mr. Crawford, were close to her; they were all in a cluster together. How she had looked before, Fanny could not recollect, for she had been dancing with Edmund herself, and had not thought about her.
Mrs. Norris continued, "It is quite delightful, ma'am, to see young people so properly happy, so well suited, and so much the thing! I cannot but think of dear Sir Thomas's delight. And what do you say, ma'am, to the chance of another match? Mr. Rushworth has set a good example, and such things are very catching."
Mrs. Rushworth, who saw nothing but her son, was quite at a loss.
"The couple above, ma'am. Do you see no symptoms there?"
"Oh dear! Miss Julia and Mr. Crawford. Yes, indeed, a very pretty match. What is his property?"
"Four thousand a year."
"Very well. Those who have not more must be satisfied with what they have. Four thousand a year is a pretty estate, and he seems a very genteel, steady young man, so I hope Miss Julia will be very happy."
"It is not a settled thing, ma'am, yet. We only speak of it among friends. But I have very little doubt it _will_ be. He is growing extremely particular in his attentions."
Fanny could listen no farther. Listening and wondering were all suspended for a time, for Mr. Bertram was in the room again; and though feeling it would be a great honour to be asked by him, she thought it must happen. He came towards their little circle; but instead of asking her to dance, drew a chair near her, and gave her an account of the present state of a sick horse, and the opinion of the groom, from whom he had just parted. Fanny found that it was not to be, and in the modesty of her nature immediately felt that she had been unreasonable in expecting it. When he had told of his horse, he took a newspaper from the table, and looking over it, said in a languid way, "If you want to dance, Fanny, I will stand up with you." With more than equal civility the offer was declined; she did not wish to dance. "I am glad of it," said he, in a much brisker tone, and throwing down the newspaper again, "for I am tired to death. I only wonder how the good people can keep it up so long. They had need be _all_ in love, to find any amusement in such folly; and so they are, I fancy. If you look at them you may see they are so many couple of lovers--all but Yates and Mrs. Grant--and, between ourselves, she, poor woman, must want a lover as much as any one of them. A desperate dull life hers must be with the doctor," making a sly face as he spoke towards the chair of the latter, who proving, however, to be close at his elbow, made so instantaneous a change of expression and subject necessary, as Fanny, in spite of everything, could hardly help laughing at. "A strange business this in America, Dr. Grant! What is your opinion? I always come to you to know what I am to think of public matters."
"My dear Tom," cried his aunt soon afterwards, "as you are not dancing, I dare say you will have no objection to join us in a rubber; shall you?" Then leaving her seat, and coming to him to enforce the proposal, added in a whisper, "We want to make a table for Mrs. Rushworth, you know. Your mother is quite anxious about it, but cannot very well spare time to sit down herself, because of her fringe. Now, you and I and Dr. Grant will just do; and though _we_ play but half-crowns, you know, you may bet half-guineas with _him_."
"I should be most happy," replied he aloud, and jumping up with alacrity, "it would give me the greatest pleasure; but that I am this moment going to dance." Come, Fanny, taking her hand, "do not be dawdling any longer, or the dance will be over."
Fanny was led off very willingly, though it was impossible for her to feel much gratitude towards her cousin, or distinguish, as he certainly did, between the selfishness of another person and his own.
"A pretty modest request upon my word," he indignantly exclaimed as they walked away. "To want to nail me to a card-table for the next two hours with herself and Dr. Grant, who are always quarrelling, and that poking old woman, who knows no more of whist than of algebra. I wish my good aunt would be a little less busy! And to ask me in such a way too! without ceremony, before them all, so as to leave me no possibility of refusing. _That_ is what I dislike most particularly. It raises my spleen more than anything, to have the pretence of being asked, of being given a choice, and at the same time addressed in such a way as to oblige one to do the very thing, whatever it be! If I had not luckily thought of standing up with you I could not have got out of it. It is a great deal too bad. But when my aunt has got a fancy in her head, nothing can stop her."
托马斯爵士将于11月回家，他的大儿子有事需要提前赶回。快到9月时，伯特伦先生发来了消息，先是猎场看守人收到他的来信，接着埃德蒙也收到一封。到8月底，他人就回来了。每逢合适场合，或克劳福德小姐要求的时候，他还会兴冲冲地讨好献殷勤，谈赛马和韦茅斯，谈他参加过的舞会和结交的朋友。要是在六个星期以前，克劳福德小姐也许还会感到几分兴趣，现在经过实际比较，她毫不含糊地意识到她更喜欢他弟弟。
这是很苦恼的事，她为此深感愧疚，不过事已如此。她现在已不想嫁给老大了，甚至不想取悦于他，只不过觉得自己姿色美丽，稍微向他施展几分就行了。他离开曼斯菲尔德这么久，只知道寻欢作乐，遇事从不和她商量，这一清二楚地表明，他根本没有把她放在心上。她的态度比他的还要冷漠，她相信，即使他这就当上他迟早要当的曼斯菲尔德庄园的主人，成为不折不扣的托马斯爵士，她也不愿嫁给他。
伯特伦先生为了赶上这个时令的活动回到了曼斯菲尔德，而克劳福德先生为了赶这个时令的活动去了诺福克。到了9月初，埃弗灵厄姆是缺不了克劳福德先生的。他一去就是两个星期。对于两位伯特伦小姐来说，这两个星期真是百无聊赖，她们俩本该因此而有所警觉，朱莉娅虽说在跟姐姐争风吃醋，却意识到他的甜言蜜语完全不可轻信，并且希望他不要回来。在这两个星期中，除了打猎、睡觉之外，克劳福德先生还有充足的闲暇，如果善于反省自己的动机，考虑一下他一味无聊地图慕虚荣究竟为的哪一桩，他就会翻然醒悟过来，意识到不该急着回去。但是，由于受优裕生活和坏榜样的影响，他变得又愚钝又自私，只顾眼前利益，没有长远打算。那姊妹俩聪明美丽，对他情意绵绵，给他那颗厌腻的心带来一点欢愉。他觉得在诺福克一点也没有在曼斯菲尔德和姑娘们厮混快活，因此便在说定的时间满心欢喜地回来了，而他再来与之厮混的对象们也同样满心欢喜地迎候他的到来。
克劳福德先生没回来之前，玛丽亚身边只有拉什沃思先生一人围着她转，耳边听到的尽是他翻来覆去地絮叨他白天打猎的事情，什么尽兴还是扫兴啦，他的猎犬有多棒啦，妒忌他的邻居啦，怀疑他们的资格啦，追踪偷猎者啦——谈这样的话题，除非说话人巧于辞令，听话人有几分情意，否则是拨不动小姐心弦的。因此，玛丽亚非常想念克劳福德先生。而朱莉娅既没订婚又无事可干，觉得更有权利想念他。姐妹俩都认为自己才是他的意中人。朱莉娅的想法可以从格兰特太太的话音里找到依据，该太太对此事的看法正合小姐的心意。玛丽亚的依据则是克劳福德先生自己露出的口风。一切又都回到了他离开以前的轨道上，他对她们两人都兴致勃勃、和颜悦色，没有失去任何一个的欢心，不过倒能把握分寸，既没有锲而不舍、频繁来往，也没有关怀备至、难舍难分，免得引起大家注意。
在这些人中，只有范妮觉得有点看不惯。自从去索瑟顿那天以来，她每逢见到克劳福德先生和两姐妹中的哪一个在一起，都会不由自主地留心观察，常常感到迷惑不解，或是觉得不对头。如果她对自己的判断像在别的问题上那样充满自信，如果她能断定自己看得清楚，判断公正，也许她早就郑重其事地告诉了她通常无话不谈的那个人。可事实上，她只鼓起勇气暗示了一下，而对方又没领会她的暗示。“我感到很奇怪，”她说，“克劳福德先生在这儿住了这么久，足足有七个礼拜，怎么这么快又回来了。我早就听说他很喜欢变换环境，喜欢四处游逛，于是便以为他一离开这儿，肯定会有什么事儿把他吸引到别处去。他习惯于比曼斯菲尔德热闹得多的地方。”
“他能按时回来还是好的，”埃德蒙答道。“我敢说这会使他妹妹感到高兴。他妹妹不喜欢他东游西荡的习性。”
“我的两个表姐多么喜欢他呀！”
“不错，他对女士们礼貌周到，肯定会讨人欢喜。我认为，格兰特太太料想他看中了朱莉娅。我还没有看到多少迹象，不过我但愿如此。他只要真心爱上一个人，他的那些毛病是会改掉的。”
“假如伯特伦小姐还没订婚的话，”范妮小心谨慎地说，“我有时几乎觉得他爱慕她胜过爱慕朱莉娅。”
“这也许更能说明他更喜欢朱莉娅，只是你范妮没意识到罢了。我想往往有这样的情况：男人在打定主意爱一个女人之前，对她的姐妹或密友，比对她本人还要好。克劳福德是个明智人，如果他觉得自己有爱上玛丽亚的危险，他就不会待在这儿。从玛丽亚迄今的表现来看，我也不用为她担心，她的感情并不很热烈。”
范妮心想一定是自己搞错了，决定以后改变看法。但是，尽管她力求接受埃德蒙的看法，尽管她时而从别人的神情和话音里察觉，他们也认为克劳福德先生中意的是朱莉娅，她却始终不知道怎样看才对。一天晚上，她听到了诺里斯姨妈在这个问题上私下表示的心愿和想法，也听到了拉什沃思太太私下对类似问题表示的想法。她一边听，一边不由得感到惊奇。她并不希望坐在那里听她们讲话，可这时候其他年轻人都在跳舞，而她却极不情愿地陪几位年长的太太坐在炉边，巴望大表哥再进来，大表哥是她唯一能指望的舞伴。这是范妮的第一次舞会，可并不像许多小姐的第一次舞会那样准备充分，富丽堂皇。舞会是当天下午才想起要举行的，支撑场面的是仆从室新来的一位提琴手，以及包括格兰特太太和刚到来的伯特伦先生新结交的密友在内的五对舞伴。然而，这场舞会还是让范妮感到很高兴，她一连跳了四场舞，甚至轮空一刻钟都感到很遗憾。就在等候企盼，时而瞧瞧跳舞者，时而瞅瞅门口的当儿，她无意间听到了上述两位太太的对话。
“我想，太太，”诺里斯太太说——目光注视着拉什沃思先生和玛丽亚，他们在第二次结伴跳舞——“现在我们又可以看到幸福的笑脸了。”
“是的，太太，一点不错，”拉什沃思太太答道，一边持重地假笑一下。“现在坐在一边看才让人高兴呢，刚才眼见他们被拆开了，我心里真不是滋味。处在他们这种境况的年轻人，没有必要死守那些老规矩。我不明白我儿子为什么不邀请她。”
“我敢说他邀请了。拉什沃思先生是决不会怠慢人的。不过，拉什沃思太太，亲爱的玛丽亚严守规矩，如今很少有人像她那样端庄稳重，不想让人觉得自己对舞伴挑挑拣拣啊！亲爱的太太，你只要看看比时此刻她那张面孔——与刚才和别人跳那两场舞时是多么不同啊！”
伯特伦小姐的确是满面春风，两眼喜形于色，说起话来兴致勃勃，因为朱莉娅和她的舞伴克劳福德先生离她很近，大家都挤在一块。朱莉娅先前脸上是个什么表情，范妮也没有印象，因为她当时在和埃德蒙跳舞，对她不曾留意。
诺里斯太太接着说道：“太太，看到年轻人这么快活，这么般配，这么时髦，真令人高兴啊！我不由得想起托马斯爵士的快活心情。你觉得会不会再来一对，太太？拉什沃思先生已经做出了好榜样，这种事情是很有传染力的。”
拉什沃思太太心里只有她儿子，因此压根儿不明白对方在问什么。“上面那一对，太太。你没看出他们之间的迹象吗？”
“啊呀！朱莉娅小姐和克劳福德先生。不错，的确是非常般配的一对。克劳福德先生有多少财产？”
“一年四千英镑。”
“还不错。没有更多财产的人，只能有多少满足于多少。一年四千英镑是一笔数目可观的财产，加上他看上去又是个很有教养、很稳重的青年，我想朱莉娅小姐会非常幸福。”
“太太，这件事儿还没定下来。我们只是朋友间私下说说而已。不过，我毫不怀疑这件事儿会定下来的。他献殷勤真是无法再专一了。”
范妮无法再听下去了。不仅听不下去，还中断了思索，因为伯特伦先生又来到了屋里。虽然她觉得他能请她跳舞将是莫大的面子，她心想他一定会请她。他朝他们一小伙人走来，但却没有请她跳舞，而是拉了把椅子坐到她跟前，向她述说了一匹病马目前的病情，以及他刚从马夫那里来时听到的马夫的看法。范妮意识到他不会邀请自己跳舞了，但她生性谦恭，立即觉得自己不该那样指望。伯特伦先生讲完马的事情之后，从桌上拿起一张报纸，从报纸上方望着她，慢吞吞地说：“范妮，你要是想跳舞的话，我陪你跳。”范妮谢绝了他，话说得比他还要客气。她不想跳舞。“我为此感到高兴，”伯特伦先生以比刚才活跃得多的口气说，随即把报纸又撂到桌上。“我都快累死了。我真不明白，这些人怎么能跳这么久。他们一定是全都坠入了情网，不然不会对这种蠢事感兴趣。我想他们就是坠人了情网。你要是仔细瞧一瞧，就会发觉他们是一对一对的情人——除耶茨和格兰特太太以外都是。咱俩私下里说说，格兰特太太好可怜啊！她一定像其他人一样需要有个情人。她跟博士在一起，生活一定非常乏味。”伯特伦先生一边说，一边朝格兰特博士的座椅使了个鬼脸，不料博士就坐在他旁边，他不得不立即改变了口气，换了个话题，范妮尽管有好多不如意的事，还是禁不住要笑出来。“美洲的事情真怪，格兰特博士！你认为怎么样？我总是向你请教如何看待国家大事。”
“亲爱的汤姆，”不久他姨妈叫道，“你既然现在不跳舞，我想和我们一起打一局牌没问题吧？”随即离开了座位，走到伯特伦先生跟前进一步鼓动，对他悄悄说道：“你要知道，我们想给拉什沃思太太凑够一桌。你母亲倒是很想打，可她在织围巾，没有工夫参加。现在有了你、我和格兰特博士，刚好凑齐一桌。尽管我们只玩半克朗①，（译注：①半克朗：英币，值二先令六便士。）你和格兰特博士可以赌半几尼。”
“我非常乐意，”伯特伦先生大声答道，一边霍地跳了起来，“我感到万分高兴——不过现在我要去跳舞。来，范妮，”说着抓住了她的手——“别再闲坐着，舞会就要结束了。”
范妮心甘情愿地给领走了，但她对大表哥并没有多少感激之情，也弄不清楚究竟是大表哥自私还是大姨妈自私，而大表哥对此却是十分清楚的。
“真给我分派了一个好差事呀！”那表兄妹俩定开时，伯特伦先生愤然说道。“想把我捆在牌桌上陪伴她、格兰特博士和那爱管闲事的老太婆，她和格兰特博士一直争吵不休，而那老太婆根本不会打惠斯特。我希望我姨妈稍微安静一点！居然这样要求我！当着众人的面，一点都不客气，让我根本无法拒绝！我最痛恨的就是这一套。表面上装做在求你，给你个选择余地，实际上是非叫你照她的意思去办不可——不管是做什么事吧，这让我比什么都气愤！要不是我幸好想起和你跳舞，我就逃脱不掉了。这太糟糕了。不过，我姨妈一旦起了什么念头，她不达目的是决不肯罢休的。”
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Chapter Thirteen
The Honourable John Yates, this new friend, had not much to recommend him beyond habits of fashion and expense, and being the younger son of a lord with a tolerable independence; and Sir Thomas would probably have thought his introduction at Mansfield by no means desirable. Mr. Bertram's acquaintance with him had begun at Weymouth, where they had spent ten days together in the same society, and the friendship, if friendship it might be called, had been proved and perfected by Mr. Yates's being invited to take Mansfield in his way, whenever he could, and by his promising to come; and he did come rather earlier than had been expected, in consequence of the sudden breaking-up of a large party assembled for gaiety at the house of another friend, which he had left Weymouth to join. He came on the wings of disappointment, and with his head full of acting, for it had been a theatrical party; and the play in which he had borne a part was within two days of representation, when the sudden death of one of the nearest connexions of the family had destroyed the scheme and dispersed the performers. To be so near happiness, so near fame, so near the long paragraph in praise of the private theatricals at Ecclesford, the seat of the Right Hon. Lord Ravenshaw, in Cornwall, which would of course have immortalised the whole party for at least a twelvemonth! and being so near, to lose it all, was an injury to be keenly felt, and Mr. Yates could talk of nothing else. Ecclesford and its theatre, with its arrangements and dresses, rehearsals and jokes, was his never-failing subject, and to boast of the past his only consolation.
Happily for him, a love of the theatre is so general, an itch for acting so strong among young people, that he could hardly out-talk the interest of his hearers. From the first casting of the parts to the epilogue it was all bewitching, and there were few who did not wish to have been a party concerned, or would have hesitated to try their skill. The play had been Lovers' Vows, and Mr. Yates was to have been Count Cassel. "A trifling part," said he, "and not at all to my taste, and such a one as I certainly would not accept again; but I was determined to make no difficulties. Lord Ravenshaw and the duke had appropriated the only two characters worth playing before I reached Ecclesford; and though Lord Ravenshaw offered to resign his to me, it was impossible to take it, you know. I was sorry for _him_ that he should have so mistaken his powers, for he was no more equal to the Baron--a little man with a weak voice, always hoarse after the first ten minutes. It must have injured the piece materially; but _I_ was resolved to make no difficulties. Sir Henry thought the duke not equal to Frederick, but that was because Sir Henry wanted the part himself; whereas it was certainly in the best hands of the two. I was surprised to see Sir Henry such a stick. Luckily the strength of the piece did not depend upon him. Our Agatha was inimitable, and the duke was thought very great by many. And upon the whole, it would certainly have gone off wonderfully."
"It was a hard case, upon my word"; and, "I do think you were very much to be pitied," were the kind responses of listening sympathy.
"It is not worth complaining about; but to be sure the poor old dowager could not have died at a worse time; and it is impossible to help wishing that the news could have been suppressed for just the three days we wanted. It was but three days; and being only a grandmother, and all happening two hundred miles off, I think there would have been no great harm, and it was suggested, I know; but Lord Ravenshaw, who I suppose is one of the most correct men in England, would not hear of it."
"An afterpiece instead of a comedy," said Mr. Bertram. "Lovers' Vows were at an end, and Lord and Lady Ravenshaw left to act My Grandmother by themselves. Well, the jointure may comfort _him_; and perhaps, between friends, he began to tremble for his credit and his lungs in the Baron, and was not sorry to withdraw; and to make _you_ amends, Yates, I think we must raise a little theatre at Mansfield, and ask you to be our manager."
This, though the thought of the moment, did not end with the moment; for the inclination to act was awakened, and in no one more strongly than in him who was now master of the house; and who, having so much leisure as to make almost any novelty a certain good, had likewise such a degree of lively talents and comic taste, as were exactly adapted to the novelty of acting. The thought returned again and again. "Oh for the Ecclesford theatre and scenery to try something with." Each sister could echo the wish; and Henry Crawford, to whom, in all the riot of his gratifications it was yet an untasted pleasure, was quite alive at the idea. "I really believe," said he, "I could be fool enough at this moment to undertake any character that ever was written, from Shylock or Richard III down to the singing hero of a farce in his scarlet coat and cocked hat. I feel as if I could be anything or everything; as if I could rant and storm, or sigh or cut capers, in any tragedy or comedy in the English language. Let us be doing something. Be it only half a play, an act, a scene; what should prevent us? Not these countenances, I am sure," looking towards the Miss Bertrams; "and for a theatre, what signifies a theatre? We shall be only amusing ourselves. Any room in this house might suffice."
"We must have a curtain," said Tom Bertram; "a few yards of green baize for a curtain, and perhaps that may be enough."
"Oh, quite enough," cried Mr. Yates, "with only just a side wing or two run up, doors in flat, and three or four scenes to be let down; nothing more would be necessary on such a plan as this. For mere amusement among ourselves we should want nothing more."
"I believe we must be satisfied with _less_," said Maria. "There would not be time, and other difficulties would arise. We must rather adopt Mr. Crawford's views, and make the _performance_, not the_theatre_, our object. Many parts of our best plays are independent of scenery."
"Nay," said Edmund, who began to listen with alarm. "Let us do nothing by halves. If we are to act, let it be in a theatre completely fitted up with pit, boxes, and gallery, and let us have a play entire from beginning to end; so as it be a German play, no matter what, with a good tricking, shifting afterpiece, and a figure-dance, and a hornpipe, and a song between the acts. If we do not outdo Ecclesford, we do nothing."
"Now, Edmund, do not be disagreeable," said Julia. "Nobody loves a play better than you do, or can have gone much farther to see one."
"True, to see real acting, good hardened real acting; but I would hardly walk from this room to the next to look at the raw efforts of those who have not been bred to the trade: a set of gentlemen and ladies, who have all the disadvantages of education and decorum to struggle through."
After a short pause, however, the subject still continued, and was discussed with unabated eagerness, every one's inclination increasing by the discussion, and a knowledge of the inclination of the rest; and though nothing was settled but that Tom Bertram would prefer a comedy, and his sisters and Henry Crawford a tragedy, and that nothing in the world could be easier than to find a piece which would please them all, the resolution to act something or other seemed so decided as to make Edmund quite uncomfortable. He was determined to prevent it, if possible, though his mother, who equally heard the conversation which passed at table, did not evince the least disapprobation.
The same evening afforded him an opportunity of trying his strength. Maria, Julia, Henry Crawford, and Mr. Yates were in the billiard-room. Tom, returning from them into the drawing-room, where Edmund was standing thoughtfully by the fire, while Lady Bertram was on the sofa at a little distance, and Fanny close beside her arranging her work, thus began as he entered--"Such a horribly vile billiard-table as ours is not to be met with, I believe, above ground. I can stand it no longer, and I think, I may say, that nothing shall ever tempt me to it again; but one good thing I have just ascertained: it is the very room for a theatre, precisely the shape and length for it; and the doors at the farther end, communicating with each other, as they may be made to do in five minutes, by merely moving the bookcase in my father's room, is the very thing we could have desired, if we had sat down to wish for it; and my father's room will be an excellent greenroom. It seems to join the billiard-room on purpose."
"You are not serious, Tom, in meaning to act?" said Edmund, in a low voice, as his brother approached the fire.
"Not serious! never more so, I assure you. What is there to surprise you in it?"
"I think it would be very wrong. In a _general_ light, private theatricals are open to some objections, but as _we_ are circumstanced, I must think it would be highly injudicious, and more than injudicious to attempt anything of the kind. It would shew great want of feeling on my father's account, absent as he is, and in some degree of constant danger; and it would be imprudent, I think, with regard to Maria, whose situation is a very delicate one, considering everything, extremely delicate."
"You take up a thing so seriously! as if we were going to act three times a week till my father's return, and invite all the country. But it is not to be a display of that sort. We mean nothing but a little amusement among ourselves, just to vary the scene, and exercise our powers in something new. We want no audience, no publicity. We may be trusted, I think, in chusing some play most perfectly unexceptionable; and I can conceive no greater harm or danger to any of us in conversing in the elegant written language of some respectable author than in chattering in words of our own. I have no fears and no scruples. And as to my father's being absent, it is so far from an objection, that I consider it rather as a motive; for the expectation of his return must be a very anxious period to my mother; and if we can be the means of amusing that anxiety, and keeping up her spirits for the next few weeks, I shall think our time very well spent, and so, I am sure, will he. It is a _very_ anxious period for her."
As he said this, each looked towards their mother. Lady Bertram, sunk back in one corner of the sofa, the picture of health, wealth, ease, and tranquillity, was just falling into a gentle doze, while Fanny was getting through the few difficulties of her work for her.
Edmund smiled and shook his head.
"By Jove! this won't do," cried Tom, throwing himself into a chair with a hearty laugh. "To be sure, my dear mother, your anxiety--I was unlucky there."
"What is the matter?" asked her ladyship, in the heavy tone of one half-roused; "I was not asleep."
"Oh dear, no, ma'am, nobody suspected you! Well, Edmund," he continued, returning to the former subject, posture, and voice, as soon as Lady Bertram began to nod again, "but _this_ I _will_ maintain, that we shall be doing no harm."
"I cannot agree with you; I am convinced that my father would totally disapprove it."
"And I am convinced to the contrary. Nobody is fonder of the exercise of talent in young people, or promotes it more, than my father, and for anything of the acting, spouting, reciting kind, I think he has always a decided taste. I am sure he encouraged it in us as boys. How many a time have we mourned over the dead body of Julius Caesar, and to _be'd_ and not _to_ _be'd_, in this very room, for his amusement? And I am sure, _my_ _name_ _was_ _Norval_, every evening of my life through one Christmas holidays."
"It was a very different thing. You must see the difference yourself. My father wished us, as schoolboys, to speak well, but he would never wish his grown-up daughters to be acting plays. His sense of decorum is strict."
"I know all that," said Tom, displeased. "I know my father as well as you do; and I'll take care that his daughters do nothing to distress him. Manage your own concerns, Edmund, and I'll take care of the rest of the family."
"If you are resolved on acting," replied the persevering Edmund, "I must hope it will be in a very small and quiet way; and I think a theatre ought not to be attempted. It would be taking liberties with my father's house in his absence which could not be justified."
"For everything of that nature I will be answerable," said Tom, in a decided tone. "His house shall not be hurt. I have quite as great an interest in being careful of his house as you can have; and as to such alterations as I was suggesting just now, such as moving a bookcase, or unlocking a door, or even as using the billiard-room for the space of a week without playing at billiards in it, you might just as well suppose he would object to our sitting more in this room, and less in the breakfast-room, than we did before he went away, or to my sister's pianoforte being moved from one side of the room to the other. Absolute nonsense!"
"The innovation, if not wrong as an innovation, will be wrong as an expense."
"Yes, the expense of such an undertaking would be prodigious! Perhaps it might cost a whole twenty pounds. Something of a theatre we must have undoubtedly, but it will be on the simplest plan: a green curtain and a little carpenter's work, and that's all; and as the carpenter's work may be all done at home by Christopher Jackson himself, it will be too absurd to talk of expense; and as long as Jackson is employed, everything will be right with Sir Thomas. Don't imagine that nobody in this house can see or judge but yourself. Don't act yourself, if you do not like it, but don't expect to govern everybody else."
"No, as to acting myself," said Edmund, "_that_ I absolutely protest against."
Tom walked out of the room as he said it, and Edmund was left to sit down and stir the fire in thoughtful vexation.
Fanny, who had heard it all, and borne Edmund company in every feeling throughout the whole, now ventured to say, in her anxiety to suggest some comfort, "Perhaps they may not be able to find any play to suit them. Your brother's taste and your sisters' seem very different."
"I have no hope there, Fanny. If they persist in the scheme, they will find something. I shall speak to my sisters and try to dissuade _them_, and that is all I can do."
"I should think my aunt Norris would be on your side."
"I dare say she would, but she has no influence with either Tom or my sisters that could be of any use; and if I cannot convince them myself, I shall let things take their course, without attempting it through her. Family squabbling is the greatest evil of all, and we had better do anything than be altogether by the ears."
His sisters, to whom he had an opportunity of speaking the next morning, were quite as impatient of his advice, quite as unyielding to his representation, quite as determined in the cause of pleasure, as Tom. Their mother had no objection to the plan, and they were not in the least afraid of their father's disapprobation. There could be no harm in what had been done in so many respectable families, and by so many women of the first consideration; and it must be scrupulousness run mad that could see anything to censure in a plan like theirs, comprehending only brothers and sisters and intimate friends, and which would never be heard of beyond themselves. Julia _did_ seem inclined to admit that Maria's situation might require particular caution and delicacy--but that could not extend to _her_-- she was at liberty; and Maria evidently considered her engagement as only raising her so much more above restraint, and leaving her less occasion than Julia to consult either father or mother. Edmund had little to hope, but he was still urging the subject when Henry Crawford entered the room, fresh from the Parsonage, calling out, "No want of hands in our theatre, Miss Bertram. No want of understrappers: my sister desires her love, and hopes to be admitted into the company, and will be happy to take the part of any old duenna or tame confidante, that you may not like to do yourselves."
Maria gave Edmund a glance, which meant, "What say you now? Can we be wrong if Mary Crawford feels the same?" And Edmund, silenced, was obliged to acknowledge that the charm of acting might well carry fascination to the mind of genius; and with the ingenuity of love, to dwell more on the obliging, accommodating purport of the message than on anything else.
The scheme advanced. Opposition was vain; and as to Mrs. Norris, he was mistaken in supposing she would wish to make any. She started no difficulties that were not talked down in five minutes by her eldest nephew and niece, who were all-powerful with her; and as the whole arrangement was to bring very little expense to anybody, and none at all to herself, as she foresaw in it all the comforts of hurry, bustle, and importance, and derived the immediate advantage of fancying herself obliged to leave her own house, where she had been living a month at her own cost, and take up her abode in theirs, that every hour might be spent in their service, she was, in fact, exceedingly delighted with the project.
贵介公子约翰·耶茨是我们初次见面的新朋友。此人衣着讲究，出手大方，是一位勋爵的二儿子，有一笔可观的财产，除此之外，并没有多少可取之处。托马斯爵士若是在家的话，很可能不会欢迎把此人引到曼斯菲尔德。伯特伦先生和他是在韦茅斯结识的，两人在那里一起参加了十天的社交活动。伯特伦先生邀请他方便时到曼斯菲尔德做客，他又答应要来，他们之间的友谊——如果可以称做友谊的话——便得以确立与发展。后来他从韦茅斯赶到另一个朋友家参加一场大型娱乐活动，不想与会者突然散去，他便提前来到了曼斯菲尔德。他是扫兴而来的，满脑子全是演戏的事，因为大家是为了演戏而聚在一起的，还给他安排了角色，两天内就要登台演出了，突然间这家的一个近亲去世，打乱了原先的计划，演戏的人也都散去。眼看一场欢乐就要到来，眼看就要大出一番风头，眼看康瓦尔郡雷文肖勋爵大人埃克尔斯福德府上的这场业余演出就要见诸报端，被记者们大加吹捧，至少名噪一年！眼看就要到手的东西，一下子全泡汤了，这种事真是令人痛心，耶茨先生讲起话来总离不开这个话题，一张口便是埃克尔斯福德及其剧场，演出的安排，演员的服装，怎样预演彩排，开些什么玩笑，夸耀这已过去的事成了他唯一的安慰。
算他走运，这里的年轻人都很喜欢戏剧，都巴不得能有个演出的机会，所以尽管他说个没完，他的听众却百听不厌。从最初选派角色，到最后的收场白，样样都让他们心醉神迷，谁都巴望一试身手，扮演其中的某个角色。剧名为《山盟海誓》①，（译注：①《山盟海誓》是德国戏剧家科泽毕于1791年发表的一个诗体剧本，由因奇博尔德夫人译成英文，1798年在英国出版后深受欢迎，曾多次再版，频繁上演。）耶茨先生原本要扮演卡斯尔伯爵。“一个不重要的角色，”他说，“一点也不合我的口味，今后我肯定不会再同意演这样的角色，可当时我不想让人家犯难。剧中只有两个角色值得扮演，可还没等我来到埃克尔斯福德，那两个角色就被雷文肖勋爵和公爵挑走了。虽然雷文肖勋爵提出把他的角色让给我演，可你知道，我是不能接受的。我替他感到难过，他居然自不量力，他根本不配演男爵这个角色！个子那么小，声音那么低，每次演练说不上十分钟嗓子就哑了！这出戏让他来演，肯定会大煞风景，可是我就不想让人家犯难。亨利爵士认为公爵演不好弗雷德里克，可那是因为亨利爵士自己想演这个角色，不过就他们两人而言，这个角色由公爵来演肯定更好一些。我万万没有想到亨利爵士的演技那么蹩脚。幸好这出戏并不靠他来撑场面。我们的阿加莎演得妙不可言，许多人认为公爵演得非常出色。总的说来，这出戏要是正式演出，一定十分精彩。”
“说实话，没演成真是不幸。”“很为你感到惋惜。”听的人深表同情地说。
“这件事没有什么好怨天尤人的，不过那个可怜的老寡妇死得实在不是时候。你不由得会想，要是她去世的消息照我们的需要晚公布三天就好了。只需要三天。她不过是这家的外婆，又死在二百英里以外，我觉得把死讯压三天也没有什么大不了的。据我所知，还真有人提出了这个建议。可雷文肖勋爵就是不同意，我想他是全英国最讲究规矩的一个人。”
“没演成喜剧倒来了场悲剧，”伯特伦先生说。“《山盟海誓》结束了，雷文肖勋爵夫妇只能独自去演《我的外婆》①。（译注：①《我的外婆》是霍尔王子发表于1794年的一个闹剧。）外婆的遗产或许会给勋爵带来安慰，不过我们朋友之间私下说一句，他也许因为要扮演男爵，怕演不好而丢面子，怕他的肺受不了，就想撤销原来的计划。耶茨，为了弥补你的损失，我想我们应该在曼斯菲尔德建个小戏院，由你来主管。”
这虽说是一时的意念，但并非只是说说而已。经他这么一提，大家又冒出了演戏的欲望，其中最想演的就是他本人。眼下他成了一家之主，有的是闲暇，几乎什么新鲜事都能让他玩个痛快，加上头脑灵活，富有喜剧素养，因而也就十分适合演戏。他的这一想法翻来覆去地总有人提出。“啊！要是能用埃克尔斯福德的戏院和布景演演戏该有多好。”他的两个妹妹也有同感。亨利·克劳福德虽然经历过种种寻欢作乐的事情，但却没有尝试过这种欢乐，因此一听到这一想法，便大为活跃起来。 “我倒真以为，”他说，“我此时此刻会不知天高地厚，敢于扮演任何剧本里的任何角色，从夏洛克、理查德三世，到滑稽剧里身穿红色外衣、头戴三角帽演唱的主人公。我觉得我什么都能演，英语里的任何悲剧或喜剧，无论是慷慨激昂、大发雷霆、唉声叹气还是活蹦乱跳，我似乎都行。我们选个剧目演一演吧。哪怕是半个剧 ——一幕——一场。有什么能难住我们呢？我想总不会是我们这些人长相不行吧，”说着把目光投向两位伯特伦小姐，“至于说戏院，要戏院干什么？我们只是自娱自乐。这座大宅里的哪间屋子都够用了。”
“我们得有个幕，”汤姆·伯特伦说，“买上几码绿绒布做个幕，这也许就够了。”
“噢！完全够了，”耶茨嚷道，“只需要布置一两个侧景，几个房间的门，三四场布景就行了，演这么点戏再不需要什么了。只不过是自娱自乐，这就足够了。”
“我认为我们还应该再简单一些，”玛丽亚说。“时间不多，还会遇到别的困难。我们还得采纳克劳福德先生的意见，我们的目标是演戏，而不是搞舞台布景。许多最优秀戏剧的许多地方都不是依靠布景。”
“不，”埃德蒙听到这里感到惊讶了，便说。“我们做事可不要马虎。我们真要演戏的话，那就找个正规的戏院去演，正厅、包厢、楼座一应俱全，从头到尾完完整整地演上一出戏，不管演哪出德国戏，在幕与幕之间都要有幽默滑稽的表演，有花样舞蹈，有号笛，有歌声。如果我们演得还不如埃克尔斯福德，那就索性不要演了。”
“得啦，埃德蒙，不要讲泄气话啦，”朱莉娅说。“你比谁都爱看戏，为了看戏，你比别人多跑多少路都不在乎。”
“不错，那是看真正的演出，看演技娴熟的真正演出。但是要让我看一群从未受过训练的少爷小姐们的蹩脚表演，即使在隔壁房间演我也不会过去看。这些人在所受教育和礼仪规矩上存在种种不利因素，演戏时势必受到束缚。”
过了不久，又谈起了这个话题，而且热情丝毫不减，个个都是越谈越想干，加之听到别人愿意，自己也就越发愿意。不过，谈来谈去什么事也没谈妥，只知道汤姆· 伯特伦要演喜剧，他的两个妹妹和亨利·克劳福德要演悲剧，想找一个人人喜欢的剧本比什么都难。尽管如此，要演戏的决心却是坚定不移的，埃德蒙为此感到十分不安。他打定主意，只要可能，就要阻止他们，然而他母亲同样听到了饭桌边的这番谈话，却丝毫没有不赞成的表示。
当天晚上，他找到一个机会，想试试他有没有能力阻止。玛丽亚、朱莉娅、亨利·克劳福德以及耶茨先生都在弹子房里。汤姆从他们那里回到了客厅，这时埃德蒙正若有所思地站在炉火跟前，伯特伦夫人坐在不远的沙发上，范妮紧挨着她在料理针线活。汤姆进来的时候说：“像我们这样糟糕透顶的弹子台，我相信天底下再找不到第二个！我再也不能容忍它了，我想我可以这样说：没有什么能诱使我再来打弹子。不过，我刚刚给它想出了一个好用场。这间屋子演戏正合适，形状和长度都正好，屋那头的几扇门，只需把父亲房里的书橱挪一挪，五分钟内就能互相连通。如果我们决定演戏，这正符合我们的需要。父亲的房间做演员休息室非常好。它与弹子房相通，好像有意满足我们的需要似的。”
“汤姆，你说要演戏，不会当真吧？”汤姆来到炉旁的时候，埃德蒙低声说道。
“不会当真！告诉你吧，再当真不过了。你有什么好奇怪的？”
“我认为这样做很不妥当。一般说来，私人演戏容易受人指责，而考虑我们的家庭境况，我认为我们去演戏尤其不慎重，而且还不仅仅是不慎重。父亲不在家，时时刻刻都处在危险之中，我们演戏会让人觉得我们太不把父亲放在心上。再说玛丽亚的情况也很值得我们操心，把各种因素都考虑进去，让人极不放心，眼看她处于这般境况，我们再去演戏，也太欠考虑。”
“你把事情看得这么严重啊！好像我们在父亲没回来之前每星期都要演三次，还要邀请全国的人都来看似的。可我们不是要搞这样的演出。我们只不过是来点自娱自乐，调剂调剂生活，尝试来点新花样。我们不要观众，也不去登报。我想，应该相信我们会挑选一个无可指摘的剧目来演。我认为，我们用某个令人敬重的作家写出的优美文字对话，比用我们自己的话闲聊，不会有更多的害处和危险。我毫不担心，毫无顾虑。至于父亲还在海外，这决不应该成为反对演戏的理由，我倒认为这正是我们演戏的动机所在。母亲在此期间盼望父亲归来，心里焦灼不安，如果我们能在这几个星期里使母亲忘却忧愁，提起精神，我觉得我们的时光就会过得很有意义，而且我相信父亲也会这样想的。这是母亲最焦灼不安的一段时期。”
他说这话时，两人都朝他们的母亲望去。伯特伦夫人正靠在沙发的一角，安然入睡了，那样子既健康，又富贵；既恬静，又无忧无虑。范妮正在替她做那几件颇费工夫的针线活。
埃德蒙微微一笑，摇了摇头。
“啊！这可不算个理由，”汤姆嚷道，一边扑地坐到一把椅子上，纵声大笑起来。“亲爱的妈妈，我说你焦灼不安——算我说错了。”
“怎么啦？”伯特伦夫人以半睡半醒的沉重语调问道。“我没有睡着呀。”
“噢！是没有，妈妈——没有人怀疑你睡着了——喂，埃德蒙，”一见伯特伦夫人又打起盹来，汤姆又以原来的姿态和腔调，谈起了原来的话题，“不过我还要坚持这一点——我们演戏并没有什么害处。”
“我不同意你的看法——我相信父亲是肯定不会同意这样做的。”
“我认为恰恰相反。父亲比谁都更加喜欢发挥年轻人的才干，并且提倡这样做。至于演戏、高谈阔论、背诵台词等，我想他一向是很喜欢的。我们小时候，他还真鼓励我们培养这方面的才能呢。就在这间屋子里，为了使他开心，我们多少次对朱利亚斯·恺撒的遗体表示哀悼，多少次学着哈姆雷特说‘活下去还是不活’！我记得很清楚，有一年圣诞节，我们每天晚上都要说‘我叫诺弗尔’①。”（译者注：①“我叫诺弗尔”引自当时广为流传的一部悲剧的开场白，剧名为《道格拉斯》，作者为约翰·霍姆，发表于 1757年。）
“那完全是另一回事。你自己肯定知道不一样。我们上小学的时候，父亲希望我们练练口才，但他决不会想要他已长大成人的女儿们去演戏。他是很讲规矩的。”
“这我都知道，”汤姆怏怏不快地说。“我像你一样了解父亲，我会注意不让他的女儿们做什么惹他生气的事。你管住你自己好了，埃德蒙，我来关照家里的其他人。”
“你若是一定要演的话，”埃德蒙坚持不懈地答道，“我希望悄悄地搞，不要大张旗鼓。我看不要布置什么剧场。父亲不在家，随便用他的房子不好。”
“这类事情一概由我负责，”汤姆以果断的口气说道，“我们不会损坏他的房子。我会像你一样用心关照他的房子的。至于我刚才提出的那些小小的变动，比如挪个书橱，打开一扇门，甚至一星期不打弹子，把弹子房另作他用，如果你认为他会反对的话，那我们比他在家时在这间屋里多坐一会儿，在早餐厅里少坐一会儿，或者把妹妹的钢琴从房间的这边移到那边，你大概认为他也会表示反对吧。纯属无稽之谈！”
“这样的变动即使本身不算错，但要花钱总不对吧。”
“是呀，干这样的事是会花掉巨额资金啊！也许可以花掉整整二十英镑。毫无疑问我们好歹需要一个剧场，但我们要尽可能从简：一幅绿幕，一点木工活——仅此而已。而那点木工活完全可以在家里让克里斯托弗·杰克逊自己去做，再说花费多，那是胡说八道。只要活是让杰克逊干的，托马斯爵士什么意见都不会有。不要以为这屋里就你一个人高明。你不喜欢演戏你自己不演就是了，可你不要以为你能管得住大家。”
“我没这样以为，至于我自己演戏，”埃德蒙说，“我是绝对不会那样做的。”
汤姆没等他说完就走出屋去，埃德蒙只好坐下来，忧心忡忡地拨动炉火。
这席谈话全让范妮听到了，她始终是赞成埃德蒙的看法的，眼下很想给他点安慰，便鼓起勇气说：“也许他们找不到合适的剧本。你哥哥和你妹妹的趣味好像大不一样。”
“我不抱这种希望，范妮。他们要是打定主意要演，总会找到剧本的——我要跟两个妹妹谈谈，劝说她俩不要演。我只能这样做。”
“我想诺里斯姨妈会站在你这一边。”
“我相信她会站在我们这一边，但她对汤姆和我妹妹都起不了什么作用。我要是说服不了他们，就只能听其自然，用不着让她去说。一家人争吵是最糟糕的事情，我们说什么也不能吵架。”
第二天早晨，埃德蒙找了个机会劝说两个妹妹，没想到她们像汤姆一样丝毫不爱听他的劝告，一点也不肯接受他的意见，一心一意要寻欢作乐。母亲压根儿不反对他们的计划，他们也丝毫不怕父亲不赞成他们的行为。这么多体面的家庭，这么多的大家闺秀演了戏都没有什么，而他们只是兄弟姊妹加上亲朋好友关起门来演演戏，又不让外人知道，如果认为这也不对，那筒直是太谨小慎微了。朱莉娅的确有意表明玛丽亚的情况需要特别谨慎、特别稳重——但这不能要求于她——她是不受任何约束的。而玛丽亚则显然认为，正因为她订了婚，她就更加无拘无束，不用像朱莉娅那样事事需要和父母商量。埃德蒙已不抱什么希望，但仍在继续劝说。恰在这时，亨利·克劳福德刚从牧师住宅赶来，走进屋里，叫道：“我们演戏不缺人了，伯特伦小姐。也不缺演仆从的人——我妹妹求大家赏个脸，把她吸收到戏班子里来，年老的保姆，温顺的女伴，你们不愿演的角色她都乐意演。”
玛丽亚瞥了埃德蒙一眼，意思是说：“你现在还有什么话说？玛丽·克劳福德和我们有同感，你还能说我们不对吗？”埃德蒙哑口无言，心里不得不承认演戏的魅力都会令聪明人着迷。他怀着无限深情，久久地在琢磨她那助人为乐的精神。
计划在向前推进。反对是徒劳无益的。他原以为诺里斯姨妈会表示反对，其实他估计错了。大姨妈一向奈何不了大外甥和大外甥女，她刚提出了一点异议，不到五分钟便被他们说服了。事实上，她是非常乐意他们这样干的。根据整个安排，谁都花不了多少钱，她自己更是一个钱也不用花。办事的过程中，免不了要她张罗，显一显她的重要，一想到这里，她心里不禁乐滋滋的。另外，她还会马上沾到一点便宜：她在自己家里已经住了一个月，花的都是自己的钱，现在为了随时给他们帮忙，觉得自己不得不离开自己家，搬到他们家来住。
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Chapter Fourteen
Fanny seemed nearer being right than Edmund had supposed. The business of finding a play that would suit everybody proved to be no trifle; and the carpenter had received his orders and taken his measurements, had suggested and removed at least two sets of difficulties, and having made the necessity of an enlargement of plan and expense fully evident, was already at work, while a play was still to seek. Other preparations were also in hand. An enormous roll of green baize had arrived from Northampton, and been cut out by Mrs. Norris (with a saving by her good management of full three-quarters of a yard), and was actually forming into a curtain by the housemaids, and still the play was wanting; and as two or three days passed away in this manner, Edmund began almost to hope that none might ever be found.
There were, in fact, so many things to be attended to, so many people to be pleased, so many best characters required, and, above all, such a need that the play should be at once both tragedy and comedy, that there did seem as little chance of a decision as anything pursued by youth and zeal could hold out.
On the tragic side were the Miss Bertrams, Henry Crawford, and Mr. Yates; on the comic, Tom Bertram, not _quite_ alone, because it was evident that Mary Crawford's wishes, though politely kept back, inclined the same way: but his determinateness and his power seemed to make allies unnecessary; and, independent of this great irreconcilable difference, they wanted a piece containing very few characters in the whole, but every character first-rate, and three principal women. All the best plays were run over in vain. Neither Hamlet, nor Macbeth, nor Othello, nor Douglas, nor The Gamester, presented anything that could satisfy even the tragedians; and The Rivals, The School for Scandal, Wheel of Fortune, Heir at Law, and a long et cetera, were successively dismissed with yet warmer objections. No piece could be proposed that did not supply somebody with a difficulty, and on one side or the other it was a continual repetition of, "Oh no, _that_ will never do! Let us have no ranting tragedies. Too many characters. Not a tolerable woman's part in the play. Anything but _that_, my dear Tom. It would be impossible to fill it up. One could not expect anybody to take such a part. Nothing but buffoonery from beginning to end. _That_ might do, perhaps, but for the low parts. If I _must_ give my opinion, I have always thought it the most insipid play in the English language. _I_ do not wish to make objections; I shall be happy to be of any use, but I think we could not chuse worse."
Fanny looked on and listened, not unamused to observe the selfishness which, more or less disguised, seemed to govern them all, and wondering how it would end. For her own gratification she could have wished that something might be acted, for she had never seen even half a play, but everything of higher consequence was against it.
"This will never do," said Tom Bertram at last. "We are wasting time most abominably. Something must be fixed on. No matter what, so that something is chosen. We must not be so nice. A few characters too many must not frighten us. We must _double_ them. We must descend a little. If a part is insignificant, the greater our credit in making anything of it. From this moment I make no difficulties. I take any part you chuse to give me, so as it be comic. Let it but be comic, I condition for nothing more."
For about the fifth time he then proposed the Heir at Law, doubting only whether to prefer Lord Duberley or Dr. Pangloss for himself; and very earnestly, but very unsuccessfully, trying to persuade the others that there were some fine tragic parts in the rest of the dramatis personae.
The pause which followed this fruitless effort was ended by the same speaker, who, taking up one of the many volumes of plays that lay on the table, and turning it over, suddenly exclaimed--"Lovers' Vows! And why should not Lovers' Vows do for _us_ as well as for the Ravenshaws? How came it never to be thought of before? It strikes me as if it would do exactly. What say you all? Here are two capital tragic parts for Yates and Crawford, and here is the rhyming Butler for me, if nobody else wants it; a trifling part, but the sort of thing I should not dislike, and, as I said before, I am determined to take anything and do my best. And as for the rest, they may be filled up by anybody. It is only Count Cassel and Anhalt."
The suggestion was generally welcome. Everybody was growing weary of indecision, and the first idea with everybody was, that nothing had been proposed before so likely to suit them all. Mr. Yates was particularly pleased: he had been sighing and longing to do the Baron at Ecclesford, had grudged every rant of Lord Ravenshaw's, and been forced to re-rant it all in his own room. The storm through Baron Wildenheim was the height of his theatrical ambition; and with the advantage of knowing half the scenes by heart already, he did now, with the greatest alacrity, offer his services for the part. To do him justice, however, he did not resolve to appropriate it; for remembering that there was some very good ranting-ground in Frederick, he professed an equal willingness for that. Henry Crawford was ready to take either. Whichever Mr. Yates did not chuse would perfectly satisfy him, and a short parley of compliment ensued. Miss Bertram, feeling all the interest of an Agatha in the question, took on her to decide it, by observing to Mr. Yates that this was a point in which height and figure ought to be considered, and that _his_ being the tallest, seemed to fit him peculiarly for the Baron. She was acknowledged to be quite right, and the two parts being accepted accordingly, she was certain of the proper Frederick. Three of the characters were now cast, besides Mr. Rushworth, who was always answered for by Maria as willing to do anything; when Julia, meaning, like her sister, to be Agatha, began to be scrupulous on Miss Crawford's account.
"This is not behaving well by the absent," said she. "Here are not women enough. Amelia and Agatha may do for Maria and me, but here is nothing for your sister, Mr. Crawford."
Mr. Crawford desired _that_ might not be thought of: he was very sure his sister had no wish of acting but as she might be useful, and that she would not allow herself to be considered in the present case. But this was immediately opposed by Tom Bertram, who asserted the part of Amelia to be in every respect the property of Miss Crawford, if she would accept it. "It falls as naturally, as necessarily to her," said he, "as Agatha does to one or other of my sisters. It can be no sacrifice on their side, for it is highly comic."
A short silence followed. Each sister looked anxious; for each felt the best claim to Agatha, and was hoping to have it pressed on her by the rest. Henry Crawford, who meanwhile had taken up the play, and with seeming carelessness was turning over the first act, soon settled the business.
"I must entreat Miss _Julia_ Bertram," said he, "not to engage in the part of Agatha, or it will be the ruin of all my solemnity. You must not, indeed you must not" (turning to her). "I could not stand your countenance dressed up in woe and paleness. The many laughs we have had together would infallibly come across me, and Frederick and his knapsack would be obliged to run away."
Pleasantly, courteously, it was spoken; but the manner was lost in the matter to Julia's feelings. She saw a glance at Maria which confirmed the injury to herself: it was a scheme, a trick; she was slighted, Maria was preferred; the smile of triumph which Maria was trying to suppress shewed how well it was understood; and before Julia could command herself enough to speak, her brother gave his weight against her too, by saying, "Oh yes! Maria must be Agatha. Maria will be the best Agatha. Though Julia fancies she prefers tragedy, I would not trust her in it. There is nothing of tragedy about her. She has not the look of it. Her features are not tragic features, and she walks too quick, and speaks too quick, and would not keep her countenance. She had better do the old countrywoman: the Cottager's wife; you had, indeed, Julia. Cottager's wife is a very pretty part, I assure you. The old lady relieves the high-flown benevolence of her husband with a good deal of spirit. You shall be Cottager's wife."
"Cottager's wife!" cried Mr. Yates. "What are you talking of? The most trivial, paltry, insignificant part; the merest commonplace; not a tolerable speech in the whole. Your sister do that! It is an insult to propose it. At Ecclesford the governess was to have done it. We all agreed that it could not be offered to anybody else. A little more justice, Mr. Manager, if you please. You do not deserve the office, if you cannot appreciate the talents of your company a little better."
"Why, as to _that_, my good friend, till I and my company have really acted there must be some guesswork; but I mean no disparagement to Julia. We cannot have two Agathas, and we must have one Cottager's wife; and I am sure I set her the example of moderation myself in being satisfied with the old Butler. If the part is trifling she will have more credit in making something of it; and if she is so desperately bent against everything humorous, let her take Cottager's speeches instead of Cottager's wife's, and so change the parts all through; _he_ is solemn and pathetic enough, I am sure. It could make no difference in the play, and as for Cottager himself, when he has got his wife's speeches, _I_ would undertake him with all my heart."
"With all your partiality for Cottager's wife," said Henry Crawford, "it will be impossible to make anything of it fit for your sister, and we must not suffer her good-nature to be imposed on. We must not _allow_ her to accept the part. She must not be left to her own complaisance. Her talents will be wanted in Amelia. Amelia is a character more difficult to be well represented than even Agatha. I consider Amelia is the most difficult character in the whole piece. It requires great powers, great nicety, to give her playfulness and simplicity without extravagance. I have seen good actresses fail in the part. Simplicity, indeed, is beyond the reach of almost every actress by profession. It requires a delicacy of feeling which they have not. It requires a gentlewoman--a Julia Bertram. You _will_ undertake it, I hope?" turning to her with a look of anxious entreaty, which softened her a little; but while she hesitated what to say, her brother again interposed with Miss Crawford's better claim.
"No, no, Julia must not be Amelia. It is not at all the part for her. She would not like it. She would not do well. She is too tall and robust. Amelia should be a small, light, girlish, skipping figure. It is fit for Miss Crawford, and Miss Crawford only. She looks the part, and I am persuaded will do it admirably."
Without attending to this, Henry Crawford continued his supplication. "You must oblige us," said he, "indeed you must. When you have studied the character, I am sure you will feel it suit you. Tragedy may be your choice, but it will certainly appear that comedy chuses _you_. You will be to visit me in prison with a basket of provisions; you will not refuse to visit me in prison? I think I see you coming in with your basket"
The influence of his voice was felt. Julia wavered; but was he only trying to soothe and pacify her, and make her overlook the previous affront? She distrusted him. The slight had been most determined. He was, perhaps, but at treacherous play with her. She looked suspiciously at her sister; Maria's countenance was to decide it: if she were vexed and alarmed--but Maria looked all serenity and satisfaction, and Julia well knew that on this ground Maria could not be happy but at her expense. With hasty indignation, therefore, and a tremulous voice, she said to him, "You do not seem afraid of not keeping your countenance when I come in with a basket of provisions--though one might have supposed--but it is only as Agatha that I was to be so overpowering!" She stopped--Henry Crawford looked rather foolish, and as if he did not know what to say. Tom Bertram began again--
"Miss Crawford must be Amelia. She will be an excellent Amelia."
"Do not be afraid of _my_ wanting the character," cried Julia, with angry quickness: "I am _not_ to be Agatha, and I am sure I will do nothing else; and as to Amelia, it is of all parts in the world the most disgusting to me. I quite detest her. An odious, little, pert, unnatural, impudent girl. I have always protested against comedy, and this is comedy in its worst form." And so saying, she walked hastily out of the room, leaving awkward feelings to more than one, but exciting small compassion in any except Fanny, who had been a quiet auditor of the whole, and who could not think of her as under the agitations of _jealousy_ without great pity.
A short silence succeeded her leaving them; but her brother soon returned to business and Lovers' Vows, and was eagerly looking over the play, with Mr. Yates's help, to ascertain what scenery would be necessary--while Maria and Henry Crawford conversed together in an under-voice, and the declaration with which she began of, "I am sure I would give up the part to Julia most willingly, but that though I shall probably do it very ill, I feel persuaded _she_ would do it worse," was doubtless receiving all the compliments it called for.
When this had lasted some time, the division of the party was completed by Tom Bertram and Mr. Yates walking off together to consult farther in the room now beginning to be called _the_ _Theatre_, and Miss Bertram's resolving to go down to the Parsonage herself with the offer of Amelia to Miss Crawford; and Fanny remained alone.
The first use she made of her solitude was to take up the volume which had been left on the table, and begin to acquaint herself with the play of which she had heard so much. Her curiosity was all awake, and she ran through it with an eagerness which was suspended only by intervals of astonishment, that it could be chosen in the present instance, that it could be proposed and accepted in a private theatre! Agatha and Amelia appeared to her in their different ways so totally improper for home representation--the situation of one, and the language of the other, so unfit to be expressed by any woman of modesty, that she could hardly suppose her cousins could be aware of what they were engaging in; and longed to have them roused as soon as possible by the remonstrance which Edmund would certainly make.
看来，范妮原来的估计比埃德蒙预料的要准确。事实证明，人人满意的剧本的确不好找。木匠接受了任务，测量了尺寸，提议并解决了至少两件难办的事，显然得扩大计划，增加费用。他已经动工了，而剧本还没有确定。其他准备工作也已开始。从北安普敦买来一大卷绿绒布，已由诺里斯太太裁剪好（她精心计划，节省了整整四分之三码），并且已由女仆们做成了幕布，而剧本仍然没有找到。就这样过了两三天，埃德蒙不由得生出一线希望：也许他们永远找不到一个合适的剧本。
谈到剧本问题，要考虑那么多因素，要让那么多人个个都满意，剧中必须有那么多出色的人物，尤其棘手的是，这剧本必须既是悲剧又是喜剧。因此，看来事情是很难解决的，就像年轻气盛的人做任何事一样，总是僵持不下。
主张演悲剧的有两位伯特伦小姐、亨利·克劳福德和耶茨先生；主张演喜剧的是汤姆·伯特伦，但他并非完全孤立，因为玛丽·克劳福德虽说出于礼貌没有公开表态，但显然是想要演喜剧。不过汤姆主意已决，加上他是一家之主，因此似乎也不需要同盟。除了这个不可调和的矛盾外，他们还要求剧中的人物要少，每个人物都非常重要，而且要有三个女主角。所有的优秀剧本都考虑过了，没有一本中意的。无论是《哈姆雷特》、《麦克白》、《奥赛罗》，还是《道格拉斯》、《赌徒》 ①，（译注：①这都是当时深受欢迎的悲剧，前三部的作者是莎士比亚，《道格拉斯》的作者是约翰·霍姆，《赌徒》的作者是埃德华·莫尔。）连几个主张演悲剧的人都不满意；而《情敌》、《造谣学校》、《命运的车轮》、《法定继承人》②，（译注：②这都是当时流行的喜剧，前两部的作者是谢立丹，《命运的车轮》的作者是理查德·坎伯兰德，《法定继承人》的作者是乔治·科尔曼。）以及许多其他剧本，一个一个地遭到了更加激烈的反对。谁只要提出一个剧本，总有人加以非难，不是这方便是那方总要重复这样几句话：“噢！不行，这戏绝对不能演。我们不要演那些装腔作势的悲剧。人物太多了——剧中没有一个像样的女角色——亲爱的汤姆，随便哪个戏都比这个好。我们找不到那么多人来演——谁也不会演这个角色——从头到尾只是讲粗话逗乐而已。要不是有那些下流角色，这戏也许还可以——如果一定要我发表意见，我一向认为这是一本最平淡无味的英语剧本——我可不想表示反对，倒很乐意助一臂之力，不过我还是觉得选哪个剧本都比这本好。”
范妮在一旁看着、听着，眼见他们一个个全都那么自私，却又程度不同地加以掩饰，不免感到有些好笑，心想不知他们会怎么收场。为了图自己快乐，她倒是希望他们能找到个剧本演演，因为她长这么大连半场戏都没看过，但是以更重要的方面考虑，她又不赞成演。
“这样可不行，”汤姆·伯特伦最后说道。“我们这是浪费时间，令人厌恶至极。我们必须定下一个剧本。不管是什么剧本，只要定下来就好。我们不能那么挑剔。多几个人物用不着害怕。我们可以一个人演两个角色。我们得把标准降低一点。如果哪个角色不起眼儿，我们演得好就更显得有本事。从现在起，我可不再作梗了。你们叫我演什么我就演什么，只要是喜剧。我们就演喜剧吧，我只提这一个条件。”
接着，他差不多是第五次提出要演《法定继承人》，唯一拿不定主意的是，他自己究竟是演杜伯利勋爵好，还是演潘格劳斯博士好。他情恳意切地想让别人相信，在他挑剩的人物中，有几个出色的悲剧人物，可是谁也不信他的。
在这番无效的劝说之后，是一阵沉默，而打破沉默的，还是那同一位讲话人。他从桌上那许多剧本中拿起了一本，翻过来一看，突然叫道：“《山盟海誓》！雷文肖家能演《山盟海誓》，我们为什么不能演呢？我们怎么一直没想到它呀？我觉得非常适合我们演。你们觉得怎么样？两个棒极了的悲剧人物由耶茨和克劳福德演，那个爱做打油诗的男管家就由我来演——如果别人不想演的话—— 一个无足轻重的角色，不过我倒愿意演这种角色。我刚才说过，我已打定主意叫我演什么我就演什么，并且尽最大努力。至于其他人物，谁愿意演都可以。只有卡斯尔伯爵和安哈尔特。”
这个建议受到了众人的欢迎。事情总这么迟疑不决，大家都感到厌倦了，听到这个建议后，人人都立即意识到，先前提出的那些剧本没有一本像这本这样适合每个人。耶茨先生尤其高兴。他在埃克尔斯福德的时候，就不胜翘企地想演男爵，雷文肖勋爵每次朗诵台词都使他感到嫉妒，他不得不跑到自己房里也从头到尾朗诵一遍。通过演维尔登海姆男爵来大露一手，这是他演戏的最大愿望。他已能背下一半场数的台词，有了这一有利条件，便急不可待地想要扮演这个角色。不过，说句公道话，他并不是非演这个角色不可——他记得弗雷德里克也有一些非常出色的、慷慨激昂的台词，因此他表示同样愿意扮演这个角色。亨利·克劳福德也是哪个角色都愿意演。耶茨先生不论挑剩了哪一个，他都会心满意足地接受，接着两人互相谦让了一番。伯特伦小姐对演剧中的阿加莎甚感兴趣，便主动替他们做裁决。她对耶茨先生说，在分配角色的时候，应该考虑身高和身材的因素，鉴于耶茨先生个子比较高，似乎让他演男爵最为合适。众人认为她说得很对，两位先生也接受了自己的角色，她为弗雷德里克有了合适的人选而放心了。已有三人给派了角色，另有拉什沃思先生，他总是由玛丽亚做主，什么角色都可以演。朱莉娅和姐姐一样，也想演阿加莎，便以克劳福德小姐为幌子，提出了意见。
“这样做对不在场的人不公平，”她说。“这个剧里女性角色不多。阿米丽亚和阿加莎可以由玛丽亚和我来演，但是你妹妹就没有角色可演了，克劳福德先生。”
克劳福德先生希望大家不要为此事担忧。他认为他妹妹肯定不想演戏，只是希望为大家尽点力，在这出戏里她是不会让大家考虑她的。但是，汤姆·伯特伦立即对此表示反对。他毅然决然地说，阿米丽亚这个角色，如果克劳福德小姐愿意接受的话，从各方面考虑都应该由她来演。“就像阿加莎要由我的一个妹妹来演一样，”他说，“阿米丽亚理所当然要分派给克劳福德小姐。对于我两个妹妹来说，这也没有什么吃亏的，因为这个角色带有很强的喜剧色彩，”
随即是一阵短暂的沉默。姐妹俩都神色不安，都觉得阿加莎应由自己来演，盼着别人推荐自己。这时候，亨利·克劳福德拿起了剧本，好像漫不经心地翻了翻第一幕，很快便把这件事定下来了。“我要恳请朱莉娅·伯特伦小姐，”他说，“不要演阿加莎，否则我就严肃不起来了。你不能演，的确不能演——（转向她）。你装扮成一副悲伤惨淡的面容，我看了会承受不住的。我们在一起总是嘻嘻哈哈的，我怎么也抹不掉这个印象，弗雷德里克只能无奈地背着背包跑下台去。”
这番话说得既谦恭又风趣，但朱莉娅注重的不是说话人的态度，而是这番话的内容。她看到克劳福德先生说话的时候瞥了玛丽亚一眼，这就证实他们在有意损害她的利益。这是耍阴谋——搞诡计。她受到了冷落，受抬举的是玛丽亚。玛丽亚极力想压抑她那得意的微笑，足以证明她充分领会这番用意。没等朱莉娅镇静下来开口说话，她哥哥又给了她当头一棒，只听他说：“啊！是呀，必须让玛丽亚演阿加莎。虽然朱莉娅自以为喜欢演悲剧，可我不相信她能演好悲剧。她身上没有一点悲剧的气质。她的样子就不像。她的脸就不是演悲剧的脸，她走路太快，说话太快，总是忍不住笑。她最好演那乡村老太婆，那村民婆子。的确，朱莉娅，你最好演这个角色。你听我说，村民婆子是个很好的角色。这位老太太满腔热情地接替她丈夫所做的善事，非常了不起。你就演这村民婆子吧。”
“村民婆子！”耶茨大声嚷道。“你在说什么呀？那是个最卑微、最低贱、最无聊的角色，平庸至极——自始至终没有一段像样的台词。让你妹妹演这个角色！提这个建议就是一种侮辱。在埃克尔斯福德，是由家庭女教师扮演这个角色的。当时我们大家都一致认为，这个角色不能派给其他任何人。总管先生，请你公正一点。如果你对你戏班子里的人才不能妥当安排，你就不配当这个总管。”
“啊，至于我是否能妄排妥当，我的好朋友，在我的戏班子没有演出之前，谁也说不准。不过，我并非有意贬低朱莉娅。我们不能要两个阿加莎，我们必须有一个村民婆子。我自己情愿演老管家，这无疑给她树立了一个遇事谦让的榜样。如果说这个角色无足轻重，她能演好就更说明她了不起。如果她坚决不要幽默的东西，那就让她说村民的台词，而不说村民婆子的台词，把角色彻底换一换。我敢说，那村民可是够忧郁、够可悲的了。这对整个戏没什么影响。至于那村民，他的台词改成他妻子的台词后，我还真愿意担当他这个角色。”
“尽管你喜爱村民婆子这个角色，”亨利·克劳福德说，“你也不可能把她说得适合你妹妹演，我们不能因为你妹妹脾气好，就把这个角色强加给她。我们不能硬让她接受这个角色。我们不能欺负她好说话。演阿米丽亚就需要她的天才。阿米丽亚这个人物甚至比阿加莎还难演好。我认为整个剧本中，阿米丽亚是最难演的人物。要想把她演得既活泼纯真，而又不过分，那可需要很高的演技，还得准确把握。我见过一些优秀的演员都没演好。的确，几乎所有的职业演员都不善于展示人物的纯真。这需要细腻的情感，而她们却没有。这需要一位大家闺秀来演——需要朱莉娅·伯特伦这样一个人。我想你是愿意承担的吧？”一面带着急切恳求的神情转向朱莉娅，使她心里好受了一点。可是，就在她犹豫不决，不知道说什么好的时候，她哥哥又插嘴说，克劳福德小姐更适合演这个角色。
“不行，不行，朱莉娅不能演阿米丽亚。这个角色根本不适合她演。她不会喜欢这个角色。她演不好。她人太高，也太壮。阿米丽亚应该是个娇小、轻盈、有些稚气的、蹦蹦跳跳的人物。这个人物适合克劳福德小姐来演，而且只适合克劳福德小姐来演。她看上去就像这个角色，我相信她会演得惟妙惟肖。”
亨利·克劳福德没有理会这番话，仍在继续恳求朱莉娅。“你一定要帮帮这个忙，”他说，“的确，一定要帑这个忙。你研究了这个人物以后，肯定会觉得适合你演。你可能选择悲剧，不过当然实际情况是：喜剧选择了你。你将挎着一篮子吃的到监狱里来探望我。你不会拒绝到监狱里来探望我吧？我觉得我看见你挎着篮子进来了。
他的声音产生的威力可以感受出来。朱莉娅动摇了。可他是否只是想安慰安慰她，使她不再介意刚才受到的侮辱呢？她不相信他。他刚才对她的冷落是再明显不过了。也许他是不怀好意地拿她开心。她怀疑地看了看姐姐，从玛丽亚的神情中可以找到答案，如果她感到气恼和吃惊的话——然而玛丽亚一副安详自得的样子，朱莉娅心里很清楚，在这种情况下，除非是她受到捉弄，否则玛丽亚是不会高兴的。因此，她当即勃然大怒，声音颤抖地对亨利·克劳福德说：“看来，你并不怕我挎着一篮子吃的进来时你会忍不住笑——虽说别人认为你会忍不住笑的——不过我只有演阿加莎才会有那么大的威力！”她不往下说了。亨利·克劳福德露出傻呆呆的神气，好像不知道说什么是好。汤姆·伯特伦又开口说话了：
“克劳福德小姐一定要演阿米丽亚。她会演得很出色的。”
“不要担心我想演这个角色，”朱莉娅气冲冲地说。“我要是不能演阿加莎，那就肯定什么都不演。至于阿米丽亚，这是世界上我最讨厌的角色。我太厌恶她了。一个唐突无礼、矫揉造作、厚颜无耻、令人作呕的又矮又小的女子。我从来就不喜欢喜剧，而这又是最糟糕的喜剧。”说罢，便匆匆走出房去，使在座的人不止一个感到局促不安，但除了范妮外，谁也不同情她。范妮刚才一直在静静地听，眼见她被嫉妒搅得如此心烦意乱，不禁对她甚为怜悯。
朱莉娅走后，大家沉默了一阵。但是，她哥哥很快又谈起了正事和《山盟海誓》，急切地翻看剧本，在耶茨先生的帮助下，决定需要些什么样的布景。与此同时，玛丽亚和亨利·克劳福德在一起悄悄地说话，玛丽亚开口就声称：“本来，我肯定会心甘情愿把这个角色让给朱莉娅的。但是，虽说我可能演不好，可我相信她会演得更糟糕。”毫无疑问，她这番话理所当然地受到了恭维。
这番情景持续了一段时间之后，几个人便散开了，汤姆·伯特伦和耶茨先生一起来到现已改叫“剧场”的那间屋子进一步商量，伯特伦小姐决定亲自到牧师府上邀请克劳福德小姐演阿米丽亚，而范妮则一个人留了下来。
她在孤寂中做的第一件事，就是拿起留在桌上的那本书，看一看他们一直谈论的那个剧本。她的好奇心被逗引起来了，她急不可耐地从头读到了尾，只在吃惊的时候才稍有停顿。她感到惊讶的是，居然选上了这么个剧本——居然有人建议私立剧场演这样的剧，而且居然有人接受！她觉得，阿加莎和阿米丽亚这两个人物完全不适合在家里演，而且各有各的原因——一个的处境，另一个的语言，都不适合正派的女人来表演。她几乎不敢想象，她的表姐们是否知道她们要演的是什么。埃德蒙肯定会出面反对的，她盼望他能尽快使她们醒悟过来。
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Chapter Fifteen
Miss Crawford accepted the part very readily; and soon after Miss Bertram's return from the Parsonage, Mr. Rushworth arrived, and another character was consequently cast. He had the offer of Count Cassel and Anhalt, and at first did not know which to chuse, and wanted Miss Bertram to direct him; but upon being made to understand the different style of the characters, and which was which, and recollecting that he had once seen the play in London, and had thought Anhalt a very stupid fellow, he soon decided for the Count. Miss Bertram approved the decision, for the less he had to learn the better; and though she could not sympathise in his wish that the Count and Agatha might be to act together, nor wait very patiently while he was slowly turning over the leaves with the hope of still discovering such a scene, she very kindly took his part in hand, and curtailed every speech that admitted being shortened; besides pointing out the necessity of his being very much dressed, and chusing his colours. Mr. Rushworth liked the idea of his finery very well, though affecting to despise it; and was too much engaged with what his own appearance would be to think of the others, or draw any of those conclusions, or feel any of that displeasure which Maria had been half prepared for.
Thus much was settled before Edmund, who had been out all the morning, knew anything of the matter; but when he entered the drawing-room before dinner, the buzz of discussion was high between Tom, Maria, and Mr. Yates; and Mr. Rushworth stepped forward with great alacrity to tell him the agreeable news.
"We have got a play," said he. "It is to be Lovers' Vows; and I am to be Count Cassel, and am to come in first with a blue dress and a pink satin cloak, and afterwards am to have another fine fancy suit, by way of a shooting-dress. I do not know how I shall like it."
Fanny's eyes followed Edmund, and her heart beat for him as she heard this speech, and saw his look, and felt what his sensations must be.
"Lovers' Vows!" in a tone of the greatest amazement, was his only reply to Mr. Rushworth, and he turned towards his brother and sisters as if hardly doubting a contradiction.
"Yes," cried Mr. Yates. "After all our debatings and difficulties, we find there is nothing that will suit us altogether so well, nothing so unexceptionable, as Lovers' Vows. The wonder is that it should not have been thought of before. My stupidity was abominable, for here we have all the advantage of what I saw at Ecclesford; and it is so useful to have anything of a model! We have cast almost every part."
"But what do you do for women?" said Edmund gravely, and looking at Maria.
Maria blushed in spite of herself as she answered, "I take the part which Lady Ravenshaw was to have done, and" (with a bolder eye) "Miss Crawford is to be Amelia."
"I should not have thought it the sort of play to be so easily filled up, with _us_," replied Edmund, turning away to the fire, where sat his mother, aunt, and Fanny, and seating himself with a look of great vexation.
Mr. Rushworth followed him to say, "I come in three times, and have two-and-forty speeches. That's something, is not it? But I do not much like the idea of being so fine. I shall hardly know myself in a blue dress and a pink satin cloak."
Edmund could not answer him. In a few minutes Mr. Bertram was called out of the room to satisfy some doubts of the carpenter; and being accompanied by Mr. Yates, and followed soon afterwards by Mr. Rushworth, Edmund almost immediately took the opportunity of saying, "I cannot, before Mr. Yates, speak what I feel as to this play, without reflecting on his friends at Ecclesford; but I must now, my dear Maria, tell _you_, that I think it exceedingly unfit for private representation, and that I hope you will give it up. I cannot but suppose you _will_ when you have read it carefully over. Read only the first act aloud to either your mother or aunt, and see how you can approve it. It will not be necessary to send you to your _father's_ judgment, I am convinced."
"We see things very differently," cried Maria. "I am perfectly acquainted with the play, I assure you; and with a very few omissions, and so forth, which will be made, of course, I can see nothing objectionable in it; and _I_ am not the _only_ young woman you find who thinks it very fit for private representation."
"I am sorry for it," was his answer; "but in this matter it is _you_ who are to lead. _You_ must set the example. If others have blundered, it is your place to put them right, and shew them what true delicacy is. In all points of decorum _your_ conduct must be law to the rest of the party."
This picture of her consequence had some effect, for no one loved better to lead than Maria; and with far more good-humour she answered, "I am much obliged to you, Edmund; you mean very well, I am sure: but I still think you see things too strongly; and I really cannot undertake to harangue all the rest upon a subject of this kind. _There_ would be the greatest indecorum, I think."
"Do you imagine that I could have such an idea in my head? No; let your conduct be the only harangue. Say that, on examining the part, you feel yourself unequal to it; that you find it requiring more exertion and confidence than you can be supposed to have. Say this with firmness, and it will be quite enough. All who can distinguish will understand your motive. The play will be given up, and your delicacy honoured as it ought."
"Do not act anything improper, my dear," said Lady Bertram. "Sir Thomas would not like it.--Fanny, ring the bell; I must have my dinner.--To be sure, Julia is dressed by this time."
"I am convinced, madam," said Edmund, preventing Fanny, "that Sir Thomas would not like it."
"There, my dear, do you hear what Edmund says?"
"If I were to decline the part," said Maria, with renewed zeal, "Julia would certainly take it."
"What!" cried Edmund, "if she knew your reasons!"
"Oh! she might think the difference between us-- the difference in our situations--that _she_ need not be so scrupulous as _I_ might feel necessary. I am sure she would argue so. No; you must excuse me; I cannot retract my consent; it is too far settled, everybody would be so disappointed, Tom would be quite angry; and if we are so very nice, we shall never act anything."
"I was just going to say the very same thing," said Mrs. Norris. "If every play is to be objected to, you will act nothing, and the preparations will be all so much money thrown away, and I am sure _that_ would be a discredit to us all. I do not know the play; but, as Maria says, if there is anything a little too warm (and it is so with most of them) it can be easily left out. We must not be over-precise, Edmund. As Mr. Rushworth is to act too, there can be no harm. I only wish Tom had known his own mind when the carpenters began, for there was the loss of half a day's work about those side-doors. The curtain will be a good job, however. The maids do their work very well, and I think we shall be able to send back some dozens of the rings. There is no occasion to put them so very close together. I _am_ of some use, I hope, in preventing waste and making the most of things. There should always be one steady head to superintend so many young ones. I forgot to tell Tom of something that happened to me this very day. I had been looking about me in the poultry-yard, and was just coming out, when who should I see but Dick Jackson making up to the servants' hall-door with two bits of deal board in his hand, bringing them to father, you may be sure; mother had chanced to send him of a message to father, and then father had bid him bring up them two bits of board, for he could not no how do without them. I knew what all this meant, for the servants' dinner-bell was ringing at the very moment over our heads; and as I hate such encroaching people (the Jacksons are very encroaching, I have always said so: just the sort of people to get all they can), I said to the boy directly (a great lubberly fellow of ten years old, you know, who ought to be ashamed of himself), "_I'll_ take the boards to your father, Dick, so get you home again as fast as you can." The boy looked very silly, and turned away without offering a word, for I believe I might speak pretty sharp; and I dare say it will cure him of coming marauding about the house for one while. I hate such greediness-- so good as your father is to the family, employing the man all the year round!"
Nobody was at the trouble of an answer; the others soon returned; and Edmund found that to have endeavoured to set them right must be his only satisfaction.
Dinner passed heavily. Mrs. Norris related again her triumph over Dick Jackson, but neither play nor preparation were otherwise much talked of, for Edmund's disapprobation was felt even by his brother, though he would not have owned it. Maria, wanting Henry Crawford's animating support, thought the subject better avoided. Mr. Yates, who was trying to make himself agreeable to Julia, found her gloom less impenetrable on any topic than that of his regret at her secession from their company; and Mr. Rushworth, having only his own part and his own dress in his head, had soon talked away all that could be said of either.
But the concerns of the theatre were suspended only for an hour or two: there was still a great deal to be settled; and the spirits of evening giving fresh courage, Tom, Maria, and Mr. Yates, soon after their being reassembled in the drawing-room, seated themselves in committee at a separate table, with the play open before them, and were just getting deep in the subject when a most welcome interruption was given by the entrance of Mr. and Miss Crawford, who, late and dark and dirty as it was, could not help coming, and were received with the most grateful joy.
"Well, how do you go on?" and "What have you settled?" and "Oh! we can do nothing without you," followed the first salutations; and Henry Crawford was soon seated with the other three at the table, while his sister made her way to Lady Bertram, and with pleasant attention was complimenting _her_. "I must really congratulate your ladyship," said she, "on the play being chosen; for though you have borne it with exemplary patience, I am sure you must be sick of all our noise and difficulties. The actors may be glad, but the bystanders must be infinitely more thankful for a decision; and I do sincerely give you joy, madam, as well as Mrs. Norris, and everybody else who is in the same predicament," glancing half fearfully, half slyly, beyond Fanny to Edmund.
She was very civilly answered by Lady Bertram, but Edmund said nothing. His being only a bystander was not disclaimed. After continuing in chat with the party round the fire a few minutes, Miss Crawford returned to the party round the table; and standing by them, seemed to interest herself in their arrangements till, as if struck by a sudden recollection, she exclaimed, "My good friends, you are most composedly at work upon these cottages and alehouses, inside and out; but pray let me know my fate in the meanwhile. Who is to be Anhalt? What gentleman among you am I to have the pleasure of making love to?"
For a moment no one spoke; and then many spoke together to tell the same melancholy truth, that they had not yet got any Anhalt. "Mr. Rushworth was to be Count Cassel, but no one had yet undertaken Anhalt."
"I had my choice of the parts," said Mr. Rushworth; "but I thought I should like the Count best, though I do not much relish the finery I am to have."
"You chose very wisely, I am sure," replied Miss Crawford, with a brightened look; "Anhalt is a heavy part."
"_The_ _Count_ has two-and-forty speeches," returned Mr. Rushworth, "which is no trifle."
"I am not at all surprised," said Miss Crawford, after a short pause, "at this want of an Anhalt. Amelia deserves no better. Such a forward young lady may well frighten the men."
"I should be but too happy in taking the part, if it were possible," cried Tom; "but, unluckily, the Butler and Anhalt are in together. I will not entirely give it up, however; I will try what can be done--I will look it over again."
"Your _brother_ should take the part," said Mr. Yates, in a low voice. "Do not you think he would?"
"_I_ shall not ask him," replied Tom, in a cold, determined manner.
Miss Crawford talked of something else, and soon afterwards rejoined the party at the fire.
"They do not want me at all," said she, seating herself. "I only puzzle them, and oblige them to make civil speeches. Mr. Edmund Bertram, as you do not act yourself, you will be a disinterested adviser; and, therefore, I apply to _you_. What shall we do for an Anhalt? Is it practicable for any of the others to double it? What is your advice?"
"My advice," said he calmly, "is that you change the play."
"_I_ should have no objection," she replied; "for though I should not particularly dislike the part of Amelia if well supported, that is, if everything went well, I shall be sorry to be an inconvenience; but as they do not chuse to hear your advice at _that_ _table_" (looking round), "it certainly will not be taken."
Edmund said no more.
"If _any_ part could tempt _you_ to act, I suppose it would be Anhalt," observed the lady archly, after a short pause; "for he is a clergyman, you know."
"_That_ circumstance would by no means tempt me," he replied, "for I should be sorry to make the character ridiculous by bad acting. It must be very difficult to keep Anhalt from appearing a formal, solemn lecturer; and the man who chuses the profession itself is, perhaps, one of the last who would wish to represent it on the stage."
Miss Crawford was silenced, and with some feelings of resentment and mortification, moved her chair considerably nearer the tea-table, and gave all her attention to Mrs. Norris, who was presiding there.
"Fanny," cried Tom Bertram, from the other table, where the conference was eagerly carrying on, and the conversation incessant, "we want your services"
Fanny was up in a moment, expecting some errand; for the habit of employing her in that way was not yet overcome, in spite of all that Edmund could do.
"Oh! we do not want to disturb you from your seat. We do not want your _present_ services. We shall only want you in our play. You must be Cottager's wife."
"Me!" cried Fanny, sitting down again with a most frightened look. "Indeed you must excuse me. I could not act anything if you were to give me the world. No, indeed, I cannot act."
"Indeed, but you must, for we cannot excuse you. It need not frighten you: it is a nothing of a part, a mere nothing, not above half a dozen speeches altogether, and it will not much signify if nobody hears a word you say; so you may be as creep-mouse as you like, but we must have you to look at."
"If you are afraid of half a dozen speeches," cried Mr. Rushworth, "what would you do with such a part as mine? I have forty-two to learn."
"It is not that I am afraid of learning by heart," said Fanny, shocked to find herself at that moment the only speaker in the room, and to feel that almost every eye was upon her; "but I really cannot act."
"Yes, yes, you can act well enough for _us_. Learn your part, and we will teach you all the rest. You have only two scenes, and as I shall be Cottager, I'll put you in and push you about, and you will do it very well, I'll answer for it."
"No, indeed, Mr. Bertram, you must excuse me. You cannot have an idea. It would be absolutely impossible for me. If I were to undertake it, I should only disappoint you."
"Phoo! Phoo! Do not be so shamefaced. You'll do it very well. Every allowance will be made for you. We do not expect perfection. You must get a brown gown, and a white apron, and a mob cap, and we must make you a few wrinkles, and a little of the crowsfoot at the corner of your eyes, and you will be a very proper, little old woman."
"You must excuse me, indeed you must excuse me," cried Fanny, growing more and more red from excessive agitation, and looking distressfully at Edmund, who was kindly observing her; but unwilling to exasperate his brother by interference, gave her only an encouraging smile. Her entreaty had no effect on Tom: he only said again what he had said before; and it was not merely Tom, for the requisition was now backed by Maria, and Mr. Crawford, and Mr. Yates, with an urgency which differed from his but in being more gentle or more ceremonious, and which altogether was quite overpowering to Fanny; and before she could breathe after it, Mrs. Norris completed the whole by thus addressing her in a whisper at once angry and audible--"What a piece of work here is about nothing: I am quite ashamed of you, Fanny, to make such a difficulty of obliging your cousins in a trifle of this sort--so kind as they are to you! Take the part with a good grace, and let us hear no more of the matter, I entreat."
"Do not urge her, madam," said Edmund. "It is not fair to urge her in this manner. You see she does not like to act. Let her chuse for herself, as well as the rest of us. Her judgment may be quite as safely trusted. Do not urge her any more."
"I am not going to urge her," replied Mrs. Norris sharply; "but I shall think her a very obstinate, ungrateful girl, if she does not do what her aunt and cousins wish her-- very ungrateful, indeed, considering who and what she is."
Edmund was too angry to speak; but Miss Crawford, looking for a moment with astonished eyes at Mrs. Norris, and then at Fanny, whose tears were beginning to shew themselves, immediately said, with some keenness, "I do not like my situation: this _place_ is too hot for me," and moved away her chair to the opposite side of the table, close to Fanny, saying to her, in a kind, low whisper, as she placed herself, "Never mind, my dear Miss Price, this is a cross evening: everybody is cross and teasing, but do not let us mind them"; and with pointed attention continued to talk to her and endeavour to raise her spirits, in spite of being out of spirits herself. By a look at her brother she prevented any farther entreaty from the theatrical board, and the really good feelings by which she was almost purely governed were rapidly restoring her to all the little she had lost in Edmund's favour.
Fanny did not love Miss Crawford; but she felt very much obliged to her for her present kindness; and when, from taking notice of her work, and wishing _she_ could work as well, and begging for the pattern, and supposing Fanny was now preparing for her _appearance_, as of course she would come out when her cousin was married, Miss Crawford proceeded to inquire if she had heard lately from her brother at sea, and said that she had quite a curiosity to see him, and imagined him a very fine young man, and advised Fanny to get his picture drawn before he went to sea again--she could not help admitting it to be very agreeable flattery, or help listening, and answering with more animation than she had intended.
The consultation upon the play still went on, and Miss Crawford's attention was first called from Fanny by Tom Bertram's telling her, with infinite regret, that he found it absolutely impossible for him to undertake the part of Anhalt in addition to the Butler: he had been most anxiously trying to make it out to be feasible, but it would not do; he must give it up. "But there will not be the smallest difficulty in filling it," he added. "We have but to speak the word; we may pick and chuse. I could name, at this moment, at least six young men within six miles of us, who are wild to be admitted into our company, and there are one or two that would not disgrace us: I should not be afraid to trust either of the Olivers or Charles Maddox. Tom Oliver is a very clever fellow, and Charles Maddox is as gentlemanlike a man as you will see anywhere, so I will take my horse early to-morrow morning and ride over to Stoke, and settle with one of them."
While he spoke, Maria was looking apprehensively round at Edmund in full expectation that he must oppose such an enlargement of the plan as this: so contrary to all their first protestations; but Edmund said nothing. After a moment's thought, Miss Crawford calmly replied, "As far as I am concerned, I can have no objection to anything that you all think eligible. Have I ever seen either of the gentlemen? Yes, Mr. Charles Maddox dined at my sister's one day, did not he, Henry? A quiet-looking young man. I remember him. Let _him_ be applied to, if you please, for it will be less unpleasant to me than to have a perfect stranger."
Charles Maddox was to be the man. Tom repeated his resolution of going to him early on the morrow; and though Julia, who had scarcely opened her lips before, observed, in a sarcastic manner, and with a glance first at Maria and then at Edmund, that "the Mansfield theatricals would enliven the whole neighbourhood exceedingly," Edmund still held his peace, and shewed his feelings only by a determined gravity.
"I am not very sanguine as to our play," said Miss Crawford, in an undervoice to Fanny, after some consideration; "and I can tell Mr. Maddox that I shall shorten some of _his_ speeches, and a great many of _my_ _own_, before we rehearse together. It will be very disagreeable, and by no means what I expected."
克劳福德小姐非常爽快地接受了分给她的角色。伯特伦小姐从牧师住宅回来后不久，拉什沃思先生就来了，因此又派定了一个角色。他可以在卡斯尔伯爵和安哈尔特之间选一个，起初他不知道演哪个好，便让伯特伦小姐给他出主意。等了解到这是两个不同类型的人物，分清了谁是谁之后，他想起曾在伦敦看过这出戏，并且记得安哈尔特是个蠢货，于是便立即决定演伯爵。伯特伦小姐赞成这一决定，因为让他背的台词越少越好。他希望伯爵和阿加莎能一起出场，对此她并不赞同。他慢吞吞地一页一页翻着书，想找到这样一幕，她在一旁等着很不耐烦。不过，她却很客气地拿过他的台词，把他要讲的话尽量缩短，此外还告诉他，他必须盛装打扮，挑选衣帽领带。拉什沃思先生一听要让他穿戴华丽的服饰，不由得十分高兴，尽管表面上假装瞧不起这些东西。他只顾想着自己盛装之下会是个什么样子，没有去想别人，也没有看出什么问题，又没有感到不快，而玛丽亚对此早有了思想准备。
埃德蒙整个上午都不在家，事情安排到了这一步，而他却一无所知。等他在饭前走进客厅时，汤姆、玛丽亚和耶茨先生还在热烈地讨论。拉什沃思先生兴高采烈地走上前来向他报告这个好消息。
“我们选定了一个剧，”他说，“是《山盟海誓》。我演卡斯尔伯爵，先是穿一身蓝衣服、披一件红缎子斗篷出场，然后再换一身盛装，作为猎装。我不知道我会不会喜欢这身打扮。”
范妮两眼紧盯着埃德蒙，听到这番话真为他心跳。她看到了他的脸色，也看出了他的心情。
“《山盟海誓》！”他以惊骇万分的口气，只对拉什沃思先生回答了这一句。他转向他哥哥和两个妹妹，好像毫不怀疑会受到反驳似的。
“是的，”耶茨先生大声说道。“我们争论来争论去，最后发现《山盟海誓》最适合我们演，最无可非议。奇怪的是，先前居然没有想到它。我太傻了，我在埃克尔斯福德看到的有利条件，这里全都具备。有人先演过了对我们多有好处啊！我们差不多把所有角色都派好了。”
“小姐们的角色是怎样安排的？”埃德蒙一本正经地说，眼睛望着玛丽亚。
玛丽亚不由得脸红起来，答道：“我演雷文肖夫人演的那个角色，（眼神大胆了一点）克劳福德小姐演阿米丽亚。”
“我认为这样的剧本，从我们这些人里是不大容易找到演员的。”埃德蒙答道。他转身走到他妈妈、姨妈和范妮就座的炉火跟前，满面怒容地坐了下来。
拉什沃思先生跟在他身后说：“我出场三次．说话四十二次。还算不错吧？不过我不大喜欢打扮得那么漂亮。我穿一身蓝衣服，披一件红缎子斗篷，会认不出自己来。”
埃德蒙无言以对。过了一会，伯特伦先生被叫出屋去，解决木匠提出的问题，耶茨先生陪他一块出去，随后不久拉什沃思先生也跟了出去。这时埃德蒙立即抓住时机说：“我当着耶茨先生的面不便讲我对这个剧的看法，不然会有损他在埃克尔斯福德的朋友们的名誉——不过，亲爱的玛丽亚，我现在必须告诉你，我认为这个剧极不适合家庭演出，希望你不要参加。我相信，你只要仔细地读一遍，就一定会放弃。你只要把第一幕读给妈妈或姨妈听，看你还会不会赞成。我相信，用不着写信请父亲裁决。”
“我们对事情的看法大不相同，”玛丽亚大声说道。“我告诉你，我对这个剧非常熟悉——当然，只要把剧中很少的几个地方删去，我觉得没有什么不合适的。你会发现，认为这个剧适合家庭演出的年轻女子可不止我一个。”
“我为此感到遗憾，”埃德蒙答道。“不过在这件事情上，领头的应该是你。你应该树立榜样。如果别人犯了错误，你有责任帮他们改正，让他们知道怎样才算文雅端庄。在各种礼节礼仪问题上，你的行为必须对其他人起到表率作用。”
玛丽亚本来最喜欢领导别人，受到这般抬举自然会产生一定效果。于是，她的心情比刚才好多了，回答道：“我非常感谢你，埃德蒙。我知道，你完全是一片好心 ——不过，我还是觉得你把事情看得太严重了。在这样一件事情上，我真是无法讲大道理把众人训斥一顿。我认为那样做最不合乎礼节规矩。”
“你认为我会产生这样的念头吗？不对——用你的行为来说服他们。你就说，你研究了这个角色，觉得自己演不了。演这个角色要下很大的工夫，要有足够的信心，而你却下不了这么大工夫，也没有足够的信心。只要说得斩钉截铁就行了。头脑清楚的人一听就会明白你的意思。这个剧就会放弃不演了，你的娴雅稳重就会理所应当地受到敬重。”
“亲爱的，不要演有失体统的戏，”伯特伦夫人说。“托马斯爵士会不高兴的。范妮，摇摇铃，我要吃饭了。朱莉娅这时候肯定已经穿戴好了。”
“妈妈，我相信，”埃德蒙没让范妮摇铃，说道，“托马斯爵士会不高兴的。”
“喂，亲爱的，你听见埃德蒙的话了吗？”
“我要是不演这个角色，”玛丽亚重又来了兴头，说道，“朱莉娅肯定会演的。”
“什么！”埃德蒙嚷道，“要是知道你为什么不演了，她还会演呀！”
“噢！她会觉得我们两个不一样——我们的处境不一样——她会觉得她用不着像我一样有所顾忌。我想她一定会这样说的。不行，你得原谅我，我答应的事不能反悔。这是早就说定了的事，我反悔了，大家会大失所望的。汤姆会发怒的。我们要是这样挑剔，那就永远找不到一个能演的剧本。”
“我也正想这么说呢，”诺里斯太太说。“要是见到一个剧本反对一个，那就什么也演不成——白做了那么多准备工作，等于白扔了那么多的钱——那肯定会丢我们大家的脸。我不了解这个剧。不过，正如玛丽亚说的那样，如果剧中有什么过于粗俗的内容（大多数剧本都有点这样的内容），随便删去就行了。我们不能过于刻板，埃德蒙。拉什沃思先生也要参加演出，这就不会有什么问题。我只希望木匠们开工时，汤姆心里有个数，他们做边门可是多用了半天工呀。不过，幕布会做得很好的。女佣们干活很用心，我看可以省下几十个幕环退回去。没有必要搞得那么密。我想在防止浪费和保证物尽其用上，起点作用。这么多年轻人，总得有个老练沉稳的人在一旁监督。就在今天，我遇到了一件事，我忘了告诉汤姆。我在养鸡场里四下张望，正往外走的时候，你猜我看见了谁？我看见迪克·杰克逊手里拿着两块松木板朝仆人住处门口走去，肯定是送给他爸的。原来他妈碰巧有事打发他给他爸送个信，他爸就叫他给他弄两块板子来，说是非常需要。我明白这是什么意思，因为这时仆人的开饭铃正在丁零当啷响。我不喜欢爱占便宜的人，杰克逊这家人还就爱占便宜，我常这么说，就是见东西就拿的那种人。你知道，这孩子已经十岁了，长了个傻大个儿，应该知道羞耻了。因此，我直截了当地对他说：‘迪克，我把板子给你爸送去，你快点回家去吧。’我想可能是由于我的话说得很不客气的缘故，他一脸傻相，一句话没说扭头就走了。我敢说，他一时不敢再来大宅里偷东西了。我恨他们这样贪心不足——你们的父亲对他们这家人这么好，整年雇用那个当家的呀！”
谁也没有接她的话。其他人很快都回来了。埃德蒙觉得，他无法制止他们了，唯一可以感到自慰的是，他已经劝说过他们了。
饭桌上的气氛非常沉闷。诺里斯太太把她战胜迪克·杰克逊的事又讲了一遍，但却没人提起剧本和准备演出的事。埃德蒙的反对甚至使他哥哥的情绪都受到了影响，尽管他哥哥不肯承认这一点。玛丽亚由于没有亨利·克劳福德在场积极支持她，便觉得还是避开这个话题为好。耶茨先生想尽力讨好朱莉娅，发现一谈到为她不能参加戏班子而感到遗憾，那比什么话题都让她郁郁不乐。而拉什沃思先生呢，虽然心里只想着自己的角色和服装，可是早把这两方面能说的话都唠叨完了。
不过，对演戏的议论只暂停了一两个小时。还有许多问题没有解决，晚饭喝的酒给他们增添了新的勇气，因此，汤姆、玛丽亚和耶茨先生在会客厅刚一会齐，便单独围着一张桌子坐下，把剧本摊开在面前，准备深入研究一番。恰在这时，一件求之不得的事情发生了：克劳福德先生和克劳福德小姐走了进来。尽管夜色已浓，天空阴暗，道路泥泞，他们还是忍不住来了，受到了欣幸不已、兴高采烈的欢迎。
寒喧过后，接着便是如下的对话：“喂，你们进行得怎么样了？”“你们解决了什么问题？”“噢！你们不在我们什么也干不成。”转眼间，亨利·克劳福德和桌子边的那三个人坐在一起，他妹妹走到伯特伦夫人身边，去讨好起她来。“剧本选好了，我真得向夫人您表示祝贺，”她说。“尽管您以堪称典范的度量容忍我们，可是我们吵吵闹闹地争来争去，肯定会让您心烦。剧本定下来了，演戏的人固然会感到高兴，可旁观的人更会感到万分庆幸。夫人，我衷心祝您快乐，还有诺里斯太太，以及所有受到干扰的人。”一边半胆怯、半狡猾地越过范妮瞥了埃德蒙一眼。
伯特伦夫人客客气气地答谢了她，但是埃德蒙一句话也没有说。他没有否认他只是一位旁观者。克劳福德小姐和炉子周围的人继续聊了一会，便回到桌子周围的那几个人那里，站在他们旁边，似乎在听他们谈论如何安排。这时，她好像突然想起什么似的，大声叫道：“诸位好友，你们在悠然自得地谈论那些农舍和酒店，里边怎么样，外边怎么样——请你们也让我了解一下我的命运吧。谁演安哈尔特？我将有幸和你们哪位先生谈情说爱呀？”
一时没人说话。接着，众人异口同声地告诉她一个可悲的事实：没有人演安哈尔特。“拉什沃思先生演卡斯尔伯爵，还没有人来演安哈尔特。”
“我对角色是有选择余地的，”拉什沃思先生说。“可我觉得我还是更喜欢伯爵——虽说我不大喜欢我要穿的豪华农服。”
“我认为你选择得非常明智，”克劳福德小姐笑逐颜开地答道。“安哈尔特是个挺有分量的角色。”
“伯爵有四十二段台词，”拉什沃思先生回答道，“这可不轻松。”
“没有人演安哈尔特，”稍顿了顿之后，克劳福德小姐说道，“我一点也不感到奇怪。阿米丽亚也是命该如此。这么放浪的姑娘，真能把男人都吓跑了。”
“如果可能的话，我很愿意演这个角色，”汤姆嚷道，“可遗憾的是，男管家和安哈尔特是同时出场的。不过，我也不愿意彻底放弃这个角色——我看看有没有什么办法——我再看一看剧本。”
“应该让你弟弟演这个角色，”耶茨低声说道。“你认为他会不肯演吗？”
“我才不去求他呢。”汤姆冷漠而坚决地说。
克劳福德小姐又讲了点别的事情，过了不久，她又回到炉边的那伙人那里。“他们根本不希望我待在他们那边，”她说着，坐了下来。“我只会让他们迷惑不解，他们还不得不客客气气地应酬我。埃德蒙·伯特伦先生，你自己不参加演出，你的意见会是公正的。因此，我要向你求教。我们怎么处理安哈尔特这个角色？能不能让哪个人同时演两个角色呢？你的意见怎么样？”
“我的意见是，”埃德蒙冷静地说，“你们换个剧本。”
“我并不反对，”克劳福德小姐答道。“如果角色配得好——也就是说，如果一切进展顺利的话，我对演阿米丽亚并不特别反感。尽管如此，我还是不愿意给人带来不便。不过，坐在那张桌边的人——（回头看了看）——他们是不会听你的话的——你的意见是肯定不会被采纳的。”
埃德蒙没有应声。
“如果有哪个角色能让你想演的话，我想就应该是安哈尔特，”稍顿了顿之后，克劳福德小姐调皮地说——“因为你知道，他是个牧师。”
“我决不会因此而想演这个角色，”埃德蒙答道，“我不愿意因为自己演技不好而把他演成一个可笑的人物。要想把安哈尔特演好，使他不至于成为一个拘谨刻板的布道者，那肯定很不容易。一个人选择了牧师职业，也许最不愿意到台上去演牧师。”
克劳福德小姐哑口无言了。她心头泛起几分愤恨和羞耻感，将椅子使劲向茶桌那边移了移，把注意力全都转向了坐在那里张罗的诺里斯太太。
“范妮，”汤姆从另一张桌边叫道，他们还在那边热烈地开着小会，说话声一直没断，“我们需要你帮忙。”
范妮以为要叫她做什么事，立即站了起来。尽管埃德蒙一再劝告，人们还是没有改掉这样支使范妮的习惯。
“噢！我们不是要你离开座位做什么事，不是要你现在就帮忙。我们只想要你参加演出。你要当村民婆子。”
“我！”范妮叫了一声，满脸惊恐地又坐下了。“你们真的不要强求我。不管怎么说，我是什么都不会演的。不行，我真的不能演。”
“可你真的一定得演，我们不能免了你。你用不着吓成那个样子，这是个无关紧要的角色，一个微不足道的人物，总共才五六段台词，你说的话，即使观众连一句也没听见，都没多大关系。因此你的声音小得像耗子也行，但却一定要让你出场。”
“要是五六段台词你都害怕，”拉什沃思先生嚷嚷道，“那叫你演我的角色你该怎么办？我要背四十二段台词。”
“我并不是怕背台词。”范妮说。她惊愕地发现，这时屋里只有她一个人在说话，觉得几乎每双眼睛都在盯着她。“可我真的不会演。”
“会的，会的，你会给我们演好的。你只要记住台词，其他的事情我们教你。你只有两场戏，村民由我演，该上场的时候我领着你上，该往哪里走听我指挥。我保证你会演得很好。”
“真的不行，伯特伦先生，你一定得免了我。你是不了解。我绝对演不了。我要是真去演的话，只会让你们失望。”
“得啦！得啦！别那么忸忸怩怩的。你会演得很好的。我们会充分体谅你的，并不要求你演得十全十美。你要穿一件褐色长裙，扎一条白围裙，戴一顶头巾式女帽，我们给你画几条皱纹，眼角上画一点鱼尾纹，这样一来，你就会很像一个小老太婆了。”
“你们得免了我，真得免了我，”范妮大声说道。她由于过于激动，脸越来越红，苦涩地望着埃德蒙。埃德蒙亲切地看着她，但又怕哥哥生气而不愿介入，只能笑吟吟地鼓励她。范妮的恳求对汤姆丝毫不起作用，他只是把先前说过的话又说一遍。要她演戏的还不只是汤姆一人，玛丽亚、克劳福德先生和耶茨先生都支持这一要求。他们都在逼迫她，只不过稍微温和一点，稍微客气一点，可是几个人一起逼迫，范妮都快顶不住了。她还没来得及缓过气来，诺里斯太太又加上了最后一棒，她恶狠狠地以故意让人听得见的低语对她说道：“屁大的事要费这么大周折。为了这么一件小事，你竟然这样为难你表哥表姐，而他们却待你这么好，我真为你害臊啊！我求你，痛痛快快地接受下来，不要让我们再听着大家议论这件事啦。”
“别逼她了，姨妈，”埃德蒙说。“这样逼她是不公平的。你看得出她不喜欢演戏。让她像我们大家一样自己拿主意。我们可以完全相信她是懂得好坏的。不要再逼她了。”
“我不会逼她，”诺里斯太太厉声答道。“不过，她要是不肯做她姨妈、表哥、表姐希望她做的事，我就认为她是个非常倔强、忘恩负义的姑娘——想一想她是个什么人，就知道她真足忘恩负义到了极点。”
埃德蒙气得说不出话来。不过，克劳福德小姐以惊讶的目光看了看诺里斯太太，接着又看了看范妮，只见她两眼泪汪汪的，便立即带刺地说：“我不喜欢我这个位置。这地方太热了，我受不了。”说着把椅子搬到桌子对面靠近范妮的地方，一边坐下，一边亲切地低声对她说道：“不要在意，亲爱的普莱斯小姐——这是一个容易动气的晚上，人人都在发脾气，捉弄人——不过，咱们不要去理会他们。”并且十分关切地继续陪她说话，想使她打起精神，尽管她自己情绪低落。她向哥哥递了个眼神，不让那个戏班子再勉强范妮了。埃德蒙看到她这样一片好心，很快又恢复了对她已经失去的那点好感。
范妮并不喜欢克劳福德小姐，但克劳福德小姐眼下对她这么好，她又非常感激。克劳福德小姐先是看她的刺绣，说她也能刺这么好就好了，并向她要刺绣的花样。她还猜测说，范妮这是在为进入社交界做准备，因为表姐结婚后，她当然要开始社交活动。接着，克劳福德小姐问她当海军的哥哥最近来信没有，说她很想见见他，并且猜想他是个非常漂亮的青年。她还劝范妮，在她哥哥再次出海之前，找人给他画张像。虽说这都是恭维之词，但范妮又不得不承认，听起来却很悦耳，于是她便不由自主地听着、回答着，而且那样来劲，她真没想到。
演戏的事还在商量之中。还是汤姆·伯特伦先把克劳福德小姐的注意力从范妮身上转移开，他不胜遗憾地告诉她说：他觉得他不可能既演男管家又演安哈尔特；他曾煞费苦心地想同时演这两个角色，但是演不成，只好作罢。“不过，要补这个角色丝毫没有困难，”汤姆补充说。 “只要说一声，就有的是人让我们挑选。此时此刻，我可以至少说出六个离我们不出六英里的年轻人，他们会巴不得参加我们的戏班子，其中有一两个是不会辱没我们的。我想奥利弗弟兄俩和查东斯·马多克斯三个人，随便哪个都可以放心让他去演。汤姆·奥利弗人很聪明，查尔斯·马多克斯很有绅士派头。明天一早我骑马到斯托克一趟，和他们哪个人商定。”
汤姆说这番话的时候，玛丽亚不安地回头看了看埃德蒙。她唯恐埃德蒙会反对把外边的人也拉进来——这违背了他们的初衷。可是埃德蒙没有吭声。克劳福德小姐想了想，冷静地答道：“就我来说，你们大家认为合适的事，我都不会反对。这几个年轻人中有没有我认识的？对啦，查尔斯·马多克斯有一天就曾在我姐姐家吃过饭，是吧，亨利？一个看上去挺沉稳的年轻人。我还记得他。如果你愿意，就请他吧。对我来说，总比请一个完全不认识的陌生人要好些。”
于是就决定请查尔斯·马多克斯了。汤姆又说了一遍他第二天一早就动身。不过，一直没怎么开口的朱莉娅这时说话了。她先瞥了玛丽亚一眼，又看了埃德蒙一眼，挖苦道：“曼斯菲尔德的戏剧演出要把这整个地区搞得轰轰烈烈啦！”埃德蒙仍然一言不发，只以铁板的面孔来表明他的想法。
“我对我们的戏不抱多大希望，”克劳福德小姐思索了一番之后，低声对范妮说。“我要告诉马多克斯先生，在我们一起排演之前，我要缩短他的一些台词，并且把我的许多台词也缩短。这会很没有意思，完全不符合我原来的期望。”
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Chapter Sixteen
It was not in Miss Crawford's power to talk Fanny into any real forgetfulness of what had passed. When the evening was over, she went to bed full of it, her nerves still agitated by the shock of such an attack from her cousin Tom, so public and so persevered in, and her spirits sinking under her aunt's unkind reflection and reproach. To be called into notice in such a manner, to hear that it was but the prelude to something so infinitely worse, to be told that she must do what was so impossible as to act; and then to have the charge of obstinacy and ingratitude follow it, enforced with such a hint at the dependence of her situation, had been too distressing at the time to make the remembrance when she was alone much less so, especially with the superadded dread of what the morrow might produce in continuation of the subject. Miss Crawford had protected her only for the time; and if she were applied to again among themselves with all the authoritative urgency that Tom and Maria were capable of, and Edmund perhaps away, what should she do? She fell asleep before she could answer the question, and found it quite as puzzling when she awoke the next morning. The little white attic, which had continued her sleeping-room ever since her first entering the family, proving incompetent to suggest any reply, she had recourse, as soon as she was dressed, to another apartment more spacious and more meet for walking about in and thinking, and of which she had now for some time been almost equally mistress. It had been their school-room; so called till the Miss Bertrams would not allow it to be called so any longer, and inhabited as such to a later period. There Miss Lee had lived, and there they had read and written, and talked and laughed, till within the last three years, when she had quitted them. The room had then become useless, and for some time was quite deserted, except by Fanny, when she visited her plants, or wanted one of the books, which she was still glad to keep there, from the deficiency of space and accommodation in her little chamber above: but gradually, as her value for the comforts of it increased, she had added to her possessions, and spent more of her time there; and having nothing to oppose her, had so naturally and so artlessly worked herself into it, that it was now generally admitted to be hers. The East room, as it had been called ever since Maria Bertram was sixteen, was now considered Fanny's, almost as decidedly as the white attic: the smallness of the one making the use of the other so evidently reasonable that the Miss Bertrams, with every superiority in their own apartments which their own sense of superiority could demand, were entirely approving it; and Mrs. Norris, having stipulated for there never being a fire in it on Fanny's account, was tolerably resigned to her having the use of what nobody else wanted, though the terms in which she sometimes spoke of the indulgence seemed to imply that it was the best room in the house.
The aspect was so favourable that even without a fire it was habitable in many an early spring and late autumn morning to such a willing mind as Fanny's; and while there was a gleam of sunshine she hoped not to be driven from it entirely, even when winter came. The comfort of it in her hours of leisure was extreme. She could go there after anything unpleasant below, and find immediate consolation in some pursuit, or some train of thought at hand. Her plants, her books-- of which she had been a collector from the first hour of her commanding a shilling--her writing-desk, and her works of charity and ingenuity, were all within her reach; or if indisposed for employment, if nothing but musing would do, she could scarcely see an object in that room which had not an interesting remembrance connected with it. Everything was a friend, or bore her thoughts to a friend; and though there had been sometimes much of suffering to her; though her motives had often been misunderstood, her feelings disregarded, and her comprehension undervalued; though she had known the pains of tyranny, of ridicule, and neglect, yet almost every recurrence of either had led to something consolatory: her aunt Bertram had spoken for her, or Miss Lee had been encouraging, or, what was yet more frequent or more dear, Edmund had been her champion and her friend: he had supported her cause or explained her meaning, he had told her not to cry, or had given her some proof of affection which made her tears delightful; and the whole was now so blended together, so harmonised by distance, that every former affliction had its charm. The room was most dear to her, and she would not have changed its furniture for the handsomest in the house, though what had been originally plain had suffered all the ill-usage of children; and its greatest elegancies and ornaments were a faded footstool of Julia's work, too ill done for the drawing-room, three transparencies, made in a rage for transparencies, for the three lower panes of one window, where Tintern Abbey held its station between a cave in Italy and a moonlight lake in Cumberland, a collection of family profiles, thought unworthy of being anywhere else, over the mantelpiece, and by their side, and pinned against the wall, a small sketch of a ship sent four years ago from the Mediterranean by William, with H.M.S. Antwerp at the bottom, in letters as tall as the mainmast.
To this nest of comforts Fanny now walked down to try its influence on an agitated, doubting spirit, to see if by looking at Edmund's profile she could catch any of his counsel, or by giving air to her geraniums she might inhale a breeze of mental strength herself. But she had more than fears of her own perseverance to remove: she had begun to feel undecided as to what she _ought_ _to_ _do_; and as she walked round the room her doubts were increasing. Was she _right_ in refusing what was so warmly asked, so strongly wished for--what might be so essential to a scheme on which some of those to whom she owed the greatest complaisance had set their hearts? Was it not ill-nature, selfishness, and a fear of exposing herself? And would Edmund's judgment, would his persuasion of Sir Thomas's disapprobation of the whole, be enough to justify her in a determined denial in spite of all the rest? It would be so horrible to her to act that she was inclined to suspect the truth and purity of her own scruples; and as she looked around her, the claims of her cousins to being obliged were strengthened by the sight of present upon present that she had received from them. The table between the windows was covered with work-boxes and netting-boxes which had been given her at different times, principally by Tom; and she grew bewildered as to the amount of the debt which all these kind remembrances produced. A tap at the door roused her in the midst of this attempt to find her way to her duty, and her gentle "Come in" was answered by the appearance of one, before whom all her doubts were wont to be laid. Her eyes brightened at the sight of Edmund.
"Can I speak with you, Fanny, for a few minutes?" said he.
"Yes, certainly."
"I want to consult. I want your opinion."
"My opinion!" she cried, shrinking from such a compliment, highly as it gratified her.
"Yes, your advice and opinion. I do not know what to do. This acting scheme gets worse and worse, you see. They have chosen almost as bad a play as they could, and now, to complete the business, are going to ask the help of a young man very slightly known to any of us. This is the end of all the privacy and propriety which was talked about at first. I know no harm of Charles Maddox; but the excessive intimacy which must spring from his being admitted among us in this manner is highly objectionable, the _more_ than intimacy--the familiarity. I cannot think of it with any patience; and it does appear to me an evil of such magnitude as must, _if_ _possible_, be prevented. Do not you see it in the same light?"
"Yes; but what can be done? Your brother is so determined."
"There is but _one_ thing to be done, Fanny. I must take Anhalt myself. I am well aware that nothing else will quiet Tom."
Fanny could not answer him.
"It is not at all what I like," he continued. "No man can like being driven into the _appearance_ of such inconsistency. After being known to oppose the scheme from the beginning, there is absurdity in the face of my joining them _now_, when they are exceeding their first plan in every respect; but I can think of no other alternative. Can you, Fanny?"
"No," said Fanny slowly, "not immediately, but--
"But what? I see your judgment is not with me. Think it a little over. Perhaps you are not so much aware as I am of the mischief that _may_, of the unpleasantness that _must_ arise from a young man's being received in this manner: domesticated among us; authorised to come at all hours, and placed suddenly on a footing which must do away all restraints. To think only of the licence which every rehearsal must tend to create. It is all very bad! Put yourself in Miss Crawford's place, Fanny. Consider what it would be to act Amelia with a stranger. She has a right to be felt for, because she evidently feels for herself. I heard enough of what she said to you last night to understand her unwillingness to be acting with a stranger; and as she probably engaged in the part with different expectations--perhaps without considering the subject enough to know what was likely to be-- it would be ungenerous, it would be really wrong to expose her to it. Her feelings ought to be respected. Does it not strike you so, Fanny? You hesitate."
"I am sorry for Miss Crawford; but I am more sorry to see you drawn in to do what you had resolved against, and what you are known to think will be disagreeable to my uncle. It will be such a triumph to the others!"
"They will not have much cause of triumph when they see how infamously I act. But, however, triumph there certainly will be, and I must brave it. But if I can be the means of restraining the publicity of the business, of limiting the exhibition, of concentrating our folly, I shall be well repaid. As I am now, I have no influence, I can do nothing: I have offended them, and they will not hear me; but when I have put them in good-humour by this concession, I am not without hopes of persuading them to confine the representation within a much smaller circle than they are now in the high road for. This will be a material gain. My object is to confine it to Mrs. Rushworth and the Grants. Will not this be worth gaining?"
"Yes, it will be a great point."
"But still it has not your approbation. Can you mention any other measure by which I have a chance of doing equal good?"
"No, I cannot think of anything else."
"Give me your approbation, then, Fanny. I am not comfortable without it."
"Oh, cousin!"
"If you are against me, I ought to distrust myself, and yet--But it is absolutely impossible to let Tom go on in this way, riding about the country in quest of anybody who can be persuaded to act--no matter whom: the look of a gentleman is to be enough. I thought _you_ would have entered more into Miss Crawford's feelings."
"No doubt she will be very glad. It must be a great relief to her," said Fanny, trying for greater warmth of manner.
"She never appeared more amiable than in her behaviour to you last night. It gave her a very strong claim on my goodwill."
"She _was_ very kind, indeed, and I am glad to have her spared"...
She could not finish the generous effusion. Her conscience stopt 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.
克劳福德小姐的劝慰并不能使范妮真正忘掉所发生的事。到了夜里就寝的时候，她满脑子还在想着晚上的情景：大表哥汤姆在众人面前如此一而再、再而三地欺侮她，这打击依然使她心神不宁；大姨妈冷酷的指责和辱骂依然使她情绪低沉。让人如此颐指气使，听说糟糕透顶的事情还在后头，给人逼着去演戏，去做自己不可能做的事，接着又骂她固执、忘恩负义，还要影射她寄人篱下，当时真让她感到痛苦不堪；现在只身一人想起这些事的时候，心里不可能好受到哪儿去——这主要因为她还要担心明天又会旧话重提。克劳福德小姐只是当时保护了她。如果他们再次胁迫她，逼她接受角色（这是汤姆和玛丽亚完全做得出来的），而埃德蒙可能又不在场——她该怎么办呢？她还没找到答案就睡着了，第二天早晨醒来，依然觉得这是个无法解决的难题。她来到姨妈家以后一直住在白色小阁楼里，这里无法使她想出答案。于是她一穿好衣服，便跑去求助于另外一间屋子。这间屋子比较宽敞，更适合踱步与思考，许久以来差不多同样归她所有。这原来是孩子们的教室，后来两位伯特伦小姐不让再把它叫做教室，以后有一段时间仍然作为教室。先是李小姐住在这里，小姐们在这里读书、写字、聊天、嬉笑，直至三年前李小姐离开她们。随后，这间屋子就没有了用场，有一段时间除了范妮谁也不去。她那个小阁楼地方狭小，没有书架，她把她的花草养在这里，书也放在这里，有时来这里看看花草，取本书。她越来越觉得这里的条件好些，便不断地增添花草和书籍，在里面度过r更多的时光。她就这么自然而然、光明正大地占用了这间屋子，加上于谁也无碍，如今大家都公认这间屋子是属于她的。从玛丽亚十六岁那年起，这间屋子一直叫做东屋，现在，这间东屋几乎像那间白阁楼一样被明确地看做范妮的房间。鉴于一间屋子太小，再用一间分明是合理的，两位伯特伦小姐出于自身的优越感，住的屋子各方面条件都很优越，因而完全赞成范妮使用那间屋子。诺里斯太太早就发话，这间屋里决不能为范妮生火，有了这一规定，她倒能听任范妮使用这间谁也不需要的屋子。不过，她有时说起范妮受到的这般姑息，听那口气好像是说，这是大宅里最好的一间屋子。
这间屋子的朝向很有利，即使不生炉火，在早春和晚秋季节，对于范妮这样一个容易满足的女孩来说，仍然有许多个上午可以待在这里。但凡有一线阳光投入，即使到了冬天，她也不希望完全离开这间屋子。在她空闲的时候，这间屋子给她带来莫大的安慰。每逢她在楼下遇到不称心的事情，她就可以到这里找点事干，想想心事，当即便能感到慰藉。她养的花草，她买的书——自从她可以支配一个先令的那刻起，她就一直在买书——她的写字台，她为慈善事业做的活，她绣的花，全都在她手边。如果没有心思做活，只想沉思默想一番，那她在屋中看到的一事一物，没有一样不给她带来愉快的回忆。每一样东西都是她的朋友，或者让她联想到某个朋友。虽然有时候她遭受巨大的痛苦 ——虽然她的动机常常让人误解，她的情感别人不加理会，她的见解别人不予重视；虽然她饱尝了专横、嘲笑、冷落给她带来的痛苦，但是每次受到诸如此类的委屈，总有人给她带来安慰。伯特伦姨妈为她说过情，李小姐鼓励过她，而更加常见、更加可贵的是，埃德蒙总替她打抱不平，与她交好。他支持她做的事，解释她的用意，劝她不要哭，或者向她表明他疼爱她，使她破涕为笑——这一切由于时间久远而和谐地交融在一起，致使每一桩痛苦的往事都带上迷人的色彩。这间屋子对她来说无比珍贵。屋里的家具原本就平平常常，后来又受尽了孩子们的糟蹋，但即使用大宅里最精致的家具来换，她也不肯换。屋里主要有这样几件艺术品和装饰：朱莉娅画的一幅已经退色的脚凳，由于画得不好，不适合挂在客厅；在时兴雕花玻璃的时候为窗子下方三个窗格制作的三块雕花玻璃，中间一块雕的是廷特恩寺，两边一块是意大利的一个洞穴，另一边是坎伯兰的湖上月色；一组家族人物的侧面像，由于挂到哪里都不合适，才挂在这间屋子的壁炉架上方；侧面像旁边的墙上，钉着一张素描，画的是一艘轮船，是四年前威廉从地中海寄来的，画的下方写着H．M.S．Antwerp①（译注：① H．M.S．Antwerp：（英国）皇家海军舰艇“安特卫普号”。）几个字，字母之大像主桅一样高。
现在范妮就来到了这个安乐窝，试一试它对她那激动不安的心情能否起到抚慰作用——看看埃德蒙的侧面像能否给她一点启示，或者给她的天竺葵透透气，看看自己是否也能吸取一点精神力量。但是，她不光为自己的执意不从担起心来，对自己应该怎么办开始感到犹豫不决。她在屋里踱来踱去，越来越感到怀疑。这本是她该对之百依百顺的几个人，如此强烈地要求她、热切地盼望她做一件事，而这件事对他们热衷的计划又是那么至关重要，她居然不肯答应，这样做合适吗？这是不是说明自己心地不善——自私自利——怕自己出丑？埃德蒙不赞成演戏，并说托马斯爵士会反对演戏，这难道能证明她不顾别人的愿望而断然拒绝是正确的吗？她把参加演出看得这么可怕，她有点怀疑自己的顾虑是否正确，是否不夹杂私心杂念。她环顾四周，看到表哥表姐送给自己的一件又一件礼物，越发觉得自己应该感恩图报。两个窗子间的桌子上放满了针线盒和编织盒，主要是汤姆一次次送给她的。她心里在纳闷：收了人家这么多纪念品，该欠下了多少人情。就在她闷头思索该怎样偿还人情时，一阵敲门声把她惊醒了。她轻柔地说了声“请进”，应声走进来一个人，就是她遇到疑难问题总要向他请教的那个人。她一见是埃德蒙，眼睛顿时一亮。
“可以和你谈几分钟吗，范妮？”埃德蒙说。
“当然可以。”
“我想向人求教，想听听你的意见。”
“我的意见！”范妮受宠若惊，不由得往后一缩，叫道。
“是的，听听你的意见和建议。我不知道如何是好。你知道，这次的演出计划搞得越来越糟。他们选的剧本已经够糟的了，现在为了凑够角色，又要请一个我们谁都不怎么认识的年轻人来帮忙。这样一来，我们起初所说的家庭演出和合乎规矩全都落空了。我没听说查尔斯·马多克斯有什么不好的，但是让他和我们一起演戏势必引起过分亲密的关系，这是很不合适的。不仅仅是亲密——还会导致亲近随便。我想到这一点就无法容忍——我觉得这件事危害极大，如有可能，必须加以制止。难道你不这样看吗？”
“我也这样看，但是有什么办法呢？你哥哥那么坚决。”
“只有一个办法，范妮。我必须自己来演安哈尔特。我很清楚，别的办法是平息不了汤姆的。”
范妮无言以对。
“我并不喜欢这样做，”埃德蒙接着说。“谁也不喜欢被逼得做出这种反复无常的事来。大家都知道我从一开始就反对这件事，现在他们在各方面都越出了最初的方案，我却要加入进去，看起来真是荒唐可笑。可是我想不出别的办法。你能想出办法吗，范妮？”
“想不出，”范妮慢吞吞地说，“一下子想不出——不过——”
“不过什么？我知道你的看法和我不一样。仔细想一想吧。以这种方式接受一个年轻人——像一家人一样和我们待在一起——随时有权走进我们的家门——突然间和我们建立了无拘无束的关系，对于这样的关系可能带来的危害以及必然带来的不快，你也许没有我了解得清楚。你只要想一想，每排演一次他就会放肆一次。这有多糟糕啊！你设身处地地替克劳福德小姐想一想，范妮。想一想跟着一个陌生人去演阿米丽亚会是个什么滋味。她有权得到别人的同情，因为她显然觉得大家应该同情她。我听见了她昨天晚上对你讲的话，能理解她不愿意和陌生人一起演戏。她答应演这个角色的时候，很可能另有期望——也许她没有认真考虑这个问题，不知道会出现什么情况。我们在这种情况下让她去活受罪，那也太不义，太不应该了。她的心情应该受到尊重，难道你不这样认为吗，范妮？你在犹豫。”
“我替克劳福德小姐难过。但是，我更替你难过，因为我眼见你给卷了进去，做你原来不肯做的事，而且大家都知道，那也是你认为姨父会反对的事。别人会如何洋洋得意啊！”
“如果他们看到我演得多么糟糕，就不会有多少理由洋洋得意了。不过，肯定会有人洋洋得意，可我就不管谁得意不得意。如果我能使这件事不要张扬出去，只在有限的范围内丢人现眼，不要搞到放荡不羁的地步，我就觉得很值得了。像我现在这样，什么作用也起不了，什么事也办不成，因为我得罪了他们，他们不肯听我的。但是我这一让步，使他们高兴起来，就有希望说服他们缩小演出的范围，比他们眼下谋求的范围小得多。这个收获就大了。我的目标是把演出限制在拉什沃思太太和格兰特一家人。这样的目标不值得争取吗？”
“是的，这一点是很重要。”
“可你还没表示同意呢。你能不能提出个别的办法，也能让我达到这一目的？”
“提不出，我想不出别的办法。”
“那就赞同我吧，范妮。没有你的赞同，我心里不踏实。”
“噢！表哥。”
“你要是不同意我的意见，我就该怀疑自己的看法了——不过——不过，决不能让汤姆这样干：骑着马四处去拉人来演戏——不管是谁，只要样子像个绅士，只要愿意来就行。我原以为你会更能体谅克劳福德小姐的心情。”
“她无疑会很高兴。这肯定会让她大大舒一口气，”范妮说道，想表现得更热情一些。
“她昨天晚上对你那么亲切，这是以前从未有过的。因此，我就非得好好地待她。”
“她真是很亲切。我很高兴能让她别和陌生人……”
范妮没有说完这句宽怀大度的话。她的良心阻止了她，但是埃德蒙已经满足了。
“早饭后我立即去找她，”他说，“肯定会让她很高兴。好啦，亲爱的范妮，我不再打扰你了。你还要读书。可我不对你说说，不拿定主意，心里是不会踏实的。整整一夜，不管是睡着还是醒着，脑子里尽想着这件事。这是件坏事——但是我这样做肯定能减少它的危害。汤姆要是起床了，我就直接去找他，把事情定下来。等到一起吃早饭的时候，我们大家会因为能共同做蠢事而兴高采烈。我想，一会儿你要启程去中国了吧？麦卡特尼勋爵①（译注：①麦卡特尼勋爵(1737-1806)系英国首任驻华使节，著有《使华旅行记》，对开本于1796年出版。此处想必是指范妮正在阅读这本书。）旅途顺利吗？（说着打开桌上的一卷书，接着又拿起了几本。）要是你读大部头巨著读倦了，这里有克雷布的《故事集》 ①（译注：①乔治·克雷布(1754-1832)，英国诗人，其《放事集》出版于1812年。），还有《懒汉》②（译注：②《懒汉》系约翰逊博士（1709-1784）所著的散文集。），可以供你消遣。我非常羡慕你这个小小的书库，等我一走，你就会忘掉演戏这件无聊的事，舒舒服服地坐在桌边看书。不过，不要在这里待得太久，免得着凉。”
埃德蒙走了。但是，范妮并没有看书，没有去中国，没有平静下来。埃德蒙给她带来了最离奇、最不可思议、最坏的消息，她毫无心思去想别的事情。要去演戏啦！先前还一个劲儿地反对——那样理直气壮，那样尽人皆知！她亲耳听到过他是怎么说的，亲眼看到过他当时的神情，知道他是出自于真心。这可能吗？埃德蒙会这样反复无常。他是不是自欺欺人？是不是判断错了？唉！这都怪克劳福德小姐。她发觉克劳福德小姐的每句话对他都有影响，因而感到很苦恼。埃德蒙没来之前，她对自己的行为产生了疑虑和恐惧，刚才听他说话时，这些疑虑和恐惧全给抛到了脑后，现在已变得无足轻重了。更大的烦恼把它们淹没了。事情自会有它的结果，最后怎么样，她已经不在乎了。表哥表姐可以逼她，但总不能缠住她不放。他们拿她没办法。如果最后不得不屈服——没关系——现在已经是凄怆不堪了。
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Chapter Seventeen
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.
There were not fewer smiles at the Parsonage than at the Park on this change in Edmund; Miss Crawford looked very lovely in hers, and entered with such an instantaneous renewal of cheerfulness into the whole affair as could have but one effect on him. "He was certainly right in respecting such feelings; he was glad he had determined on it." And the morning wore away in satisfactions very sweet, if not very sound. One advantage resulted from it to Fanny: at the earnest request of Miss Crawford, Mrs. Grant had, with her usual good-humour, agreed to undertake the part for which Fanny had been wanted; and this was all that occurred to gladden _her_ heart during the day; and even this, when imparted by Edmund, brought a pang with it, for it was Miss Crawford to whom she was obliged--it was Miss Crawford whose kind exertions were to excite her gratitude, and whose merit in making them was spoken of with a glow of admiration. She was safe; but peace and safety were unconnected here. Her mind had been never farther from peace. She could not feel that she had done wrong herself, but she was disquieted in every other way. Her heart and her judgment were equally against Edmund's decision: she could not acquit his unsteadiness, and his happiness under it made her wretched. She was full of jealousy and agitation. Miss Crawford came with looks of gaiety which seemed an insult, with friendly expressions towards herself which she could hardly answer calmly. Everybody around her was gay and busy, prosperous and important; each had their object of interest, their part, their dress, their favourite scene, their friends and confederates: all were finding employment in consultations and comparisons, or diversion in the playful conceits they suggested. She alone was sad and insignificant: she had no share in anything; she might go or stay; she might be in the midst of their noise, or retreat from it to the solitude of the East room, without being seen or missed. She could almost think anything would have been preferable to this. Mrs. Grant was of consequence: _her_ good-nature had honourable mention; her taste and her time were considered; her presence was wanted; she was sought for, and attended, and praised; and Fanny was at first in some danger of envying her the character she had accepted. But reflection brought better feelings, and shewed her that Mrs. Grant was entitled to respect, which could never have belonged to _her_; and that, had she received even the greatest, she could never have been easy in joining a scheme which, considering only her uncle, she must condemn altogether.
Fanny's heart was not absolutely the only saddened one amongst them, as she soon began to acknowledge to herself. Julia was a sufferer too, though not quite so blamelessly.
Henry Crawford had trifled with her feelings; but she had very long allowed and even sought his attentions, with a jealousy of her sister so reasonable as ought to have been their cure; and now that the conviction of his preference for Maria had been forced on her, she submitted to it without any alarm for Maria's situation, or any endeavour at rational tranquillity for herself. She either sat in gloomy silence, wrapt in such gravity as nothing could subdue, no curiosity touch, no wit amuse; or allowing the attentions of Mr. Yates, was talking with forced gaiety to him alone, and ridiculing the acting of the others.
For a day or two after the affront was given, Henry Crawford had endeavoured to do it away by the usual attack of gallantry and compliment, but he had not cared enough about it to persevere against a few repulses; and becoming soon too busy with his play to have time for more than one flirtation, he grew indifferent to the quarrel, or rather thought it a lucky occurrence, as quietly putting an end to what might ere long have raised expectations in more than Mrs. Grant. She was not pleased to see Julia excluded from the play, and sitting by disregarded; but as it was not a matter which really involved her happiness, as Henry must be the best judge of his own, and as he did assure her, with a most persuasive smile, that neither he nor Julia had ever had a serious thought of each other, she could only renew her former caution as to the elder sister, entreat him not to risk his tranquillity by too much admiration there, and then gladly take her share in anything that brought cheerfulness to the young people in general, and that did so particularly promote the pleasure of the two so dear to her.
"I rather wonder Julia is not in love with Henry," was her observation to Mary.
"I dare say she is," replied Mary coldly. "I imagine both sisters are."
"Both! no, no, that must not be. Do not give him a hint of it. Think of Mr. Rushworth!"
"You had better tell Miss Bertram to think of Mr. Rushworth. It may do _her_ some good. I often think of Mr. Rushworth's property and independence, and wish them in other hands; but I never think of him. A man might represent the county with such an estate; a man might escape a profession and represent the county."
"I dare say he _will_ be in parliament soon. When Sir Thomas comes, I dare say he will be in for some borough, but there has been nobody to put him in the way of doing anything yet."
"Sir Thomas is to achieve many mighty things when he comes home," said Mary, after a pause. "Do you remember Hawkins Browne's 'Address to Tobacco,' in imitation of Pope?--
Blest leaf! whose aromatic gales dispense To Templars modesty, to Parsons sense.
I will parody them--
Blest Knight! whose dictatorial looks dispense To Children affluence, to Rushworth sense.
Will not that do, Mrs. Grant? Everything seems to depend upon Sir Thomas's return."
"You will find his consequence very just and reasonable when you see him in his family, I assure you. I do not think we do so well without him. He has a fine dignified manner, which suits the head of such a house, and keeps everybody in their place. Lady Bertram seems more of a cipher now than when he is at home; and nobody else can keep Mrs. Norris in order. But, Mary, do not fancy that Maria Bertram cares for Henry. I am sure _Julia_ does not, or she would not have flirted as she did last night with Mr. Yates; and though he and Maria are very good friends, I think she likes Sotherton too well to be inconstant."
"I would not give much for Mr. Rushworth's chance if Henry stept in before the articles were signed."
"If you have such a suspicion, something must be done; and as soon as the play is all over, we will talk to him seriously and make him know his own mind; and if he means nothing, we will send him off, though he is Henry, for a time."
Julia _did_ suffer, however, though Mrs. Grant discerned it not, and though it escaped the notice of many of her own family likewise. She had loved, she did love still, and she had all the suffering which a warm temper and a high spirit were likely to endure under the disappointment of a dear, though irrational hope, with a strong sense of ill-usage. Her heart was sore and angry, and she was capable only of angry consolations. The sister with whom she was used to be on easy terms was now become her greatest enemy: they were alienated from each other; and Julia was not superior to the hope of some distressing end to the attentions which were still carrying on there, some punishment to Maria for conduct so shameful towards herself as well as towards Mr. Rushworth. With no material fault of temper, or difference of opinion, to prevent their being very good friends while their interests were the same, the sisters, under such a trial as this, had not affection or principle enough to make them merciful or just, to give them honour or compassion. Maria felt her triumph, and pursued her purpose, careless of Julia; and Julia could never see Maria distinguished by Henry Crawford without trusting that it would create jealousy, and bring a public disturbance at last.
Fanny saw and pitied much of this in Julia; but there was no outward fellowship between them. Julia made no communication, and Fanny took no liberties. They were two solitary sufferers, or connected only by Fanny's consciousness.
The inattention of the two brothers and the aunt to Julia's discomposure, and their blindness to its true cause, must be imputed to the fullness of their own minds. They were totally preoccupied. Tom was engrossed by the concerns of his theatre, and saw nothing that did not immediately relate to it. Edmund, between his theatrical and his real part, between Miss Crawford's claims and his own conduct, between love and consistency, was equally unobservant; and Mrs. Norris was too busy in contriving and directing the general little matters of the company, superintending their various dresses with economical expedient, for which nobody thanked her, and saving, with delighted integrity, half a crown here and there to the absent Sir Thomas, to have leisure for watching the behaviour, or guarding the happiness of his daughters.
对伯特伦先生和玛丽亚来说，这真是大获全胜的一天。能一举战胜埃德蒙的审慎，这超出了他们的希望，使他们万分高兴。再不会有什么事情来干扰他们心爱的计划了。他们感到满意极了，私下喜不自禁地相互祝贺，把这一变化归结为嫉妒心所致。埃德蒙尽可以继续板着脸，说他一般说来不喜欢演戏，特别反对演这出戏，但是他们已经达到了目的。埃德蒙将参加演出，而且完全是受自私的动机所驱使。他从他原先坚守的崇高道德观上跌落下来，他的跌落使他们两个不仅更加快活，而且更加自命不凡。
不过，他们当面对埃德蒙还很客气，除了嘴角上露出几丝微笑外，脸上丝毫没有显出得意的神气，似乎能把查尔斯·马多克斯拒之门外，他们也认为是万幸，好像当初他们并非有意要他来，而是迫不得已。“完全控制在自家人的圈子里来演，这正是我们所希望的。让一个陌生人夹在我们中间，那只会败坏我们的意兴。”埃德蒙趁势表示希望对看戏的人加以限制，他们由于一时得意，提什么要求都满口应承。真是皆大欢喜，令人鼓舞。诺里斯太太主动提出帮他设计服装，耶茨先生向他保证安哈尔特和男爵的最后一场戏要增加场面和分量，拉什沃思先生答应给他查一查他有多少段台词。
“也许，”汤姆说，“范妮现在比较愿意给我们帮忙了。也许你能说服她。”
“不，她非常坚决。她肯定不会演。”
“啊！好呀。”汤姆再没说什么。不过，范妮感到自己又有危险了。她原来将这危险置之度外，现在又为之担起心来。
埃德蒙改变态度之后，牧师府像庄园一样一片欢笑。克劳福德小姐笑得非常迷人，又立即兴高采烈地参加到这件事情中来，这对埃德蒙只能产生一个效果。“我尊重这样的情感无疑是正确的，我很高兴做出了这样的决定。”这天上午是在快活中度过的，这快活虽然不是十分酣畅，却也颇为甜蜜。这也给范妮带来一个好处。应克劳福德小姐的恳求，素来好性子的格兰特太太答应扮演他们要范妮扮演的角色——这一天中，只有这一件事能让她范妮开心。即使是这件事，等埃德蒙传达给她的时候，也给她带来了痛苦，因为这件事还多亏了克劳福德小姐，她得感谢克劳福德小姐好心相助，埃德蒙对她这份功劳赞赏不已。她平安无事了，但是平安无事并未使她心情平静。她的心情从未这样不平静。她觉得自己并没做错事，但是除此之外，她对什么都感到不安。她从理智到情感，都反对埃德蒙所做的决定。她不能原谅他说变就变，他这一变倒高兴了，却害得她不好受。她心里充满了嫉妒和不安。克劳福德小姐满面春风地走来，她觉得这是对她的侮辱；克劳福德小姐亲切地跟她说话，她却不能平心静气地回答她。她周围的人，个个又高兴又忙碌，又顺心又神气，人人都有自己关注的目标，自己的角色，自己的服装，自己心爱的场面，自己的朋友和盟友，人人都在议论，都在商讨，或者从嬉戏调笑中寻求开心。只有她一人闷闷不乐，无足轻重。什么事情都没有她的份儿，她可以走开也可以留下，可以置身于喧闹之中，也可以回到寂静的东屋，没人会注意她，也没人会牵挂她。她觉得，简直没有比这更糟糕的境况了。格兰特太太成了显要人物：大家称赞她为人和蔼可亲——尊重她的情趣喜好和审时度势——凡事需要她到场——大家向她求教，围着她转，夸奖她。刚一开始，范妮几乎要嫉妒她所承担的角色，但经过仔细考虑，她心里好受了一些，觉得格兰特太太是值得受人尊敬的，而她自己是决不会受到这样的尊敬的。她即使受到最大程度的尊敬，也决不会心安理得地参加演出，因为只要想到她姨父，她就会觉得这戏根本不该演。
在众人当中，心头沉重的绝非范妮一人，范妮本人很快也意识到了这一点。朱莉娅也在伤心，不过她不是无辜地伤心。
亨利·克劳福德玩弄了她的感情，但她为了和姐姐争风吃醋，曾长期容许、甚至逗引他向她献殷勤。这种争风吃醋本是可以理解的，她们也应该因此抑制自己的感情。现在她算看清楚了，克劳福德先生看上的是玛丽亚。她接受了这一现实，既没有对玛丽亚的境遇感到惊愕，也没有努力靠理智使自己平静下来。她不是阴沉沉地坐在那里一言不发，始终板着面孔，什么也无法让她开心，什么也不想打听，对什么俏皮话都无动于衷，便是听任耶茨先生向她献殷勤，对他一个人强颜欢笑，讥笑别人的表演。
亨利·克劳福德得罪了朱莉娅后的一两天，他力求消除隔阂，照常讨好朱莉娅，向她献殷勤。不过，他也没有太在意这件事，碰了几次钉子便也不再坚持。过了不久，他就忙着演戏，没有工夫再去调情了。他慢慢把这次争吵置之度外，甚至认为这是一桩好事，于是很快便悄然终止了人们可能产生的一种期待；而可能产生这种期待的，还不仅仅是格兰特太太一个人。格兰特太太看到朱莉娅被排除在剧组之外，无人理会地坐在一边，她心里感到不快。不过，这件事与她的幸福没有什么关系，应该由亨利自己做主，而亨利带着至诚可信的微笑对她说过，他和朱莉娅谁对谁都不曾认真动过心思。因此，她只是把朱莉娅的姐姐已经订婚的事向他重提一遍，求他不要过分倾心于她，以免自寻烦恼。接着，她便高高兴兴地去参加能给诸位年轻人，特别是能给她特别亲近的两位年轻人带来快乐的各种活动。
“我感到很奇怪，朱莉娅怎么没有爱上亨利。”她对玛丽说。
“我敢说她爱上亨利了，”玛丽冷冷地答道。“我认为姐妹俩都爱他。”
“姐妹俩都爱！不，不，可不能出这样的事。可不要让他知道。要为拉什沃思先生着想。”
“你最好叫伯特伦小姐为拉什沃思先生着想。这样做会对她有好处。我经常琢磨拉什沃思先生的那份财产、那笔充裕的收入，心想换一个主人该有多好——可我从没往他身上想。一个人有这么多的资产就可以做一个郡的代表，不用从事任何职业就可以代表一个郡。”
“我想他很快就会进入国会。托马斯爵士回来后，我敢说他会当上某个市镇的代表，不过现在还没有人支持他。”
“托马斯爵士回来后会做成一桩桩大事的，”顿了一会之后，玛丽说道。“你记得霍金斯·布朗①模仿波普写的《烟草歌》吗？‘神圣的树叶啊！你芬芳的气息能使圣殿的骑士彬彬有礼，教区的牧师头脑清晰。’我来个戏仿：神圣的爵士啊！你那威严的神情能使①艾萨克·霍金斯·布朗(1705-1760)，英国诗人，以妙语连珠著称。儿女们个个丰衣足食，拉什沃思头脑清晰。难道不合适吗，格兰特太太？好像什么事情都要取决于托马斯爵士回来。”
“告诉你吧，你要是看见他和家人在一起，就会意识到他的威望完全是正当的、合理的。他举止优雅庄重，适合做这种人家的户主，让家人个个规规矩矩。现在比起他在家的时候，伯特伦夫人说话更没人听了，除了托马斯爵士，谁也管不住诺里斯太太。不过，玛丽，不要以为玛丽亚·伯特伦喜欢亨利。我知道朱莉娅没有看上他，不然的话，她昨天晚上就不会和耶茨先生调情。虽然玛丽亚和亨利是很好的朋友，但我觉得她非常喜欢索瑟顿，因此不会变心的。”
“在没有正式订婚之前，如果让亨利插在中间，我看拉什沃思先生就不会有多大希望。”
“既然你有这样的猜疑，那就得采取点措施，等演完戏以后，我们就和亨利正经地谈一谈，问问他到底是怎么想的。如果他根本无意，我们即使舍不得放他走，也要打发他上别处住上一段时间。”
不过，朱莉娅的心里的确是痛苦的，只不过格兰特太太没有看出来，家里的其他人也没察觉罢了。她爱上了亨利·克劳福德，现在依然爱着他。她那热切而又失去理性的希望破灭后，她深感自己受尽虐待，只是由于脾气暴烈，性情高傲，才能强忍下这百般痛苦。她心里悲债交加，只能靠发泄愤怒寻求安慰。姐姐本来和她处得挺好，现在却成了她最大的敌人。两人已经彼此疏远了。朱莉娅希望还在谈情说爱的两个人没有个好下场，希望玛丽亚这种对自己、对拉什沃思先生都极为可耻的行为受到应有的惩罚。这姐妹俩在没有利害冲突的时候，倒还能不闹意气，没有意见分歧，因而彼此还非常要好。现在遇到了这样的考验，却都把感情抛到了一边，也忘了为人之道，彼此狠起心来，不讲道理，连脸面和情面都不要了。玛丽亚得意洋洋，继续追逐她的目标，全然不把朱莉娅放在心上。朱莉娅一看到亨利·克劳福德对玛丽亚献殷勤，就巴不得他们会引起嫉妒，最后酿成一场轩然大波。
朱莉娅的这种心理，范妮大体上能理解，也予以同情。不过，她们两人表面上没有什么交情。朱莉娅不主动搭理，范妮也不敢冒昧。她们各有各自的辛酸，只是范妮心里把两人联在了一起。
两位哥哥和大姨妈对朱莉娅的烦恼不闻不问，对那烦恼的真正原因视而不见，那是因为他们已经心无余力。他们都在全神贯注于别的事情。汤姆一心扑在演戏上，与此无关的事一概看不见。埃德蒙既要琢磨他所扮演的角色，又要盘算他真正的角色；既要考虑克劳福德小姐的要求，又要顾及他自己的行为；既要谈情说爱，又要遵循行为准则，因此同样注意不到身边的一切。诺里斯太太忙着为剧组筹划，指导种种细小事务，本着节俭的原则监督各种服装的制作，尽管没人因此感激她，她还是为远在海外的托马斯爵士这里省半克朗，那里省半克朗，觉得自己为人清廉而沾沾自喜。她自然没有闲暇去注意他那两个女儿的行为，关心她们的幸福。
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Chapter Eighteen
Everything was now in a regular train: theatre, actors, actresses, and dresses, were all getting forward; but though no other great impediments arose, Fanny found, before many days were past, that it was not all uninterrupted enjoyment to the party themselves, and that she had not to witness the continuance of such unanimity and delight as had been almost too much for her at first. Everybody began to have their vexation. Edmund had many. Entirely against _his_ judgment, a scene-painter arrived from town, and was at work, much to the increase of the expenses, and, what was worse, of the eclat of their proceedings; and his brother, instead of being really guided by him as to the privacy of the representation, was giving an invitation to every family who came in his way. Tom himself began to fret over the scene-painter's slow progress, and to feel the miseries of waiting. He had learned his part--all his parts, for he took every trifling one that could be united with the Butler, and began to be impatient to be acting; and every day thus unemployed was tending to increase his sense of the insignificance of all his parts together, and make him more ready to regret that some other play had not been chosen.
Fanny, being always a very courteous listener, and often the only listener at hand, came in for the complaints and the distresses of most of them. _She_ knew that Mr. Yates was in general thought to rant dreadfully; that Mr. Yates was disappointed in Henry Crawford; that Tom Bertram spoke so quick he would be unintelligible; that Mrs. Grant spoiled everything by laughing; that Edmund was behindhand with his part, and that it was misery to have anything to do with Mr. Rushworth, who was wanting a prompter through every speech. She knew, also, that poor Mr. Rushworth could seldom get anybody to rehearse with him: _his_ complaint came before her as well as the rest; and so decided to her eye was her cousin Maria's avoidance of him, and so needlessly often the rehearsal of the first scene between her and Mr. Crawford, that she had soon all the terror of other complaints from _him_. So far from being all satisfied and all enjoying, she found everybody requiring something they had not, and giving occasion of discontent to the others. Everybody had a part either too long or too short; nobody would attend as they ought; nobody would remember on which side they were to come in; nobody but the complainer would observe any directions.
Fanny believed herself to derive as much innocent enjoyment from the play as any of them; Henry Crawford acted well, and it was a pleasure to _her_ to creep into the theatre, and attend the rehearsal of the first act, in spite of the feelings it excited in some speeches for Maria. Maria, she also thought, acted well, too well; and after the first rehearsal or two, Fanny began to be their only audience; and sometimes as prompter, sometimes as spectator, was often very useful. As far as she could judge, Mr. Crawford was considerably the best actor of all: he had more confidence than Edmund, more judgment than Tom, more talent and taste than Mr. Yates. She did not like him as a man, but she must admit him to be the best actor, and on this point there were not many who differed from her. Mr. Yates, indeed, exclaimed against his tameness and insipidity; and the day came at last, when Mr. Rushworth turned to her with a black look, and said, "Do you think there is anything so very fine in all this? For the life and soul of me, I cannot admire him; and, between ourselves, to see such an undersized, little, mean-looking man, set up for a fine actor, is very ridiculous in my opinion."
From this moment there was a return of his former jealousy, which Maria, from increasing hopes of Crawford, was at little pains to remove; and the chances of Mr. Rushworth's ever attaining to the knowledge of his two-and-forty speeches became much less. As to his ever making anything _tolerable_ of them, nobody had the smallest idea of that except his mother; _she_, indeed, regretted that his part was not more considerable, and deferred coming over to Mansfield till they were forward enough in their rehearsal to comprehend all his scenes; but the others aspired at nothing beyond his remembering the catchword, and the first line of his speech, and being able to follow the prompter through the rest. Fanny, in her pity and kindheartedness, was at great pains to teach him how to learn, giving him all the helps and directions in her power, trying to make an artificial memory for him, and learning every word of his part herself, but without his being much the forwarder.
Many uncomfortable, anxious, apprehensive feelings she certainly had; but with all these, and other claims on her time and attention, she was as far from finding herself without employment or utility amongst them, as without a companion in uneasiness; quite as far from having no demand on her leisure as on her compassion. The gloom of her first anticipations was proved to have been unfounded. She was occasionally useful to all; she was perhaps as much at peace as any.
There was a great deal of needlework to be done, moreover, in which her help was wanted; and that Mrs. Norris thought her quite as well off as the rest, was evident by the manner in which she claimed it--"Come, Fanny," she cried, "these are fine times for you, but you must not be always walking from one room to the other, and doing the lookings-on at your ease, in this way; I want you here. I have been slaving myself till I can hardly stand, to contrive Mr. Rushworth's cloak without sending for any more satin; and now I think you may give me your help in putting it together. There are but three seams; you may do them in a trice. It would be lucky for me if I had nothing but the executive part to do. _You_ are best off, I can tell you: but if nobody did more than _you_, we should not get on very fast"
Fanny took the work very quietly, without attempting any defence; but her kinder aunt Bertram observed on her behalf--
"One cannot wonder, sister, that Fanny _should_ be delighted: it is all new to her, you know; you and I used to be very fond of a play ourselves, and so am I still; and as soon as I am a little more at leisure, _I_ mean to look in at their rehearsals too. What is the play about, Fanny? you have never told me."
"Oh! sister, pray do not ask her now; for Fanny is not one of those who can talk and work at the same time. It is about Lovers' Vows."
"I believe," said Fanny to her aunt Bertram, "there will be three acts rehearsed to-morrow evening, and that will give you an opportunity of seeing all the actors at once."
"You had better stay till the curtain is hung," interposed Mrs. Norris; "the curtain will be hung in a day or two-- there is very little sense in a play without a curtain-- and I am much mistaken if you do not find it draw up into very handsome festoons."
Lady Bertram seemed quite resigned to waiting. Fanny did not share her aunt's composure: she thought of the morrow a great deal, for if the three acts were rehearsed, Edmund and Miss Crawford would then be acting together for the first time; the third act would bring a scene between them which interested her most particularly, and which she was longing and dreading to see how they would perform. The whole subject of it was love-- a marriage of love was to be described by the gentleman, and very little short of a declaration of love be made by the lady.
She had read and read the scene again with many painful, many wondering emotions, and looked forward to their representation of it as a circumstance almost too interesting. She did not _believe_ they had yet rehearsed it, even in private.
The morrow came, the plan for the evening continued, and Fanny's consideration of it did not become less agitated. She worked very diligently under her aunt's directions, but her diligence and her silence concealed a very absent, anxious mind; and about noon she made her escape with her work to the East room, that she might have no concern in another, and, as she deemed it, most unnecessary rehearsal of the first act, which Henry Crawford was just proposing, desirous at once of having her time to herself, and of avoiding the sight of Mr. Rushworth. A glimpse, as she passed through the hall, of the two ladies walking up from the Parsonage made no change in her wish of retreat, and she worked and meditated in the East room, undisturbed, for a quarter of an hour, when a gentle tap at the door was followed by the entrance of Miss Crawford.
"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 shew 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? Could you do it? But then he is your cousin, which makes all the difference. You must rehearse it with me, that I may fancy _you_ him, and get on by degrees. You _have_ a look of _his_ sometimes."
"Have I? I will do my best with the greatest readiness; but I must _read_ the part, for I can say very little of it."
"_None_ of it, I suppose. 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--very good school-room chairs, not made for a theatre, I dare say; much more fitted for little girls to sit and kick their feet against when they are learning a lesson. What would your governess and your uncle say to see them 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 Fanny joined in with all the modest feeling which the idea of representing Edmund was so strongly calculated to inspire; but with looks and voice so truly feminine as to be no very good picture of a man. With such an Anhalt, however, Miss Crawford had courage enough; 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 as Edmund was come on the very same business that had brought Miss Crawford, consciousness and pleasure were likely to be more than momentary in _them_. 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 sympathising 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 felt herself becoming too nearly nothing to both to have any comfort in having been sought by either. They must now rehearse together. Edmund proposed, urged, entreated it, till the lady, not very unwilling at first, could refuse no longer, and Fanny was wanted only to prompt and observe them. She was invested, indeed, with the office of judge and critic, and earnestly desired to exercise it and tell them all their faults; but from doing so every feeling within her shrank--she could not, would not, dared not attempt it: had she been otherwise qualified for criticism, her conscience must have restrained her from venturing at disapprobation. She believed herself to feel too much of it in the aggregate for honesty or safety in particulars. To prompt them must be enough for her; and it was sometimes _more_ than enough; for she could not always pay attention to the book. In watching them she forgot herself; and, agitated by the increasing spirit of Edmund's manner, had once closed the page and turned away exactly as he wanted help. It was imputed to very reasonable weariness, and she was thanked and pitied; but she deserved their pity more than she hoped they would ever surmise. At last the scene was over, and Fanny forced herself to add her praise to the compliments each was giving the other; and when again alone and able to recall the whole, she was inclined to believe their performance would, indeed, have such nature and feeling in it as must ensure their credit, and make it a very suffering exhibition to herself. Whatever might be its effect, however, she must stand the brunt of it again that very day.
The first regular rehearsal of the three first acts was certainly to take place in the evening: Mrs. Grant and the Crawfords were engaged to return for that purpose as soon as they could after dinner; and every one concerned was looking forward with eagerness. There seemed a general diffusion of cheerfulness on the occasion. Tom was enjoying such an advance towards the end; Edmund was in spirits from the morning's rehearsal, and little vexations seemed everywhere smoothed away. All were alert and impatient; the ladies moved soon, the gentlemen soon followed them, and with the exception of Lady Bertram, Mrs. Norris, and Julia, everybody was in the theatre at an early hour; and having lighted it up as well as its unfinished state admitted, were waiting only the arrival of Mrs. Grant and the Crawfords to begin.
They did not wait long for the Crawfords, but there was no Mrs. Grant. She could not come. Dr. Grant, professing an indisposition, for which he had little credit with his fair sister-in-law, could not spare his wife.
"Dr. Grant is ill," said she, with mock solemnity. "He has been ill ever since he did not eat any of the pheasant today. He fancied it tough, sent away his plate, and has been suffering ever since".
Here was disappointment! Mrs. Grant's non-attendance was sad indeed. Her pleasant manners and cheerful conformity made her always valuable amongst them; but _now_ she was absolutely necessary. They could not act, they could not rehearse with any satisfaction without her. The comfort of the whole evening was destroyed. What was to be done? Tom, as Cottager, was in despair. After a pause of perplexity, some eyes began to be turned towards Fanny, and a voice or two to say, "If Miss Price would be so good as to _read_ the part." She was immediately surrounded by supplications; everybody asked it; even Edmund said, "Do, Fanny, if it is not _very_ disagreeable to you."
But Fanny still hung back. She could not endure the idea of it. Why was not Miss Crawford to be applied to as well? Or why had not she rather gone to her own room, as she had felt to be safest, instead of attending the rehearsal at all? She had known it would irritate and distress her; she had known it her duty to keep away. She was properly punished.
"You have only to _read_ the part," said Henry Crawford, with renewed entreaty.
"And I do believe she can say every word of it," added Maria, "for she could put Mrs. Grant right the other day in twenty places. Fanny, I am sure you know the part."
Fanny could not say she did _not_; and as they all persevered, as Edmund repeated his wish, and with a look of even fond dependence on her good-nature, she must yield. She would do her best. Everybody was satisfied; and she was left to the tremors of a most palpitating heart, while the others prepared to begin.
They _did_ begin; and being too much engaged in their own noise to be struck by an unusual noise in the other part of the house, had proceeded some way when the door of the room was thrown open, and Julia, appearing at it, with a face all aghast, exclaimed, "My father is come! He is in the hall at this moment."
现在，一切都进展顺利：剧场在布置，演员在练习，服装在赶制。但是，虽然没有遇到什么大问题，范妮没过多久就发现，班子里的人并不是一直都高高兴兴。她起初看到他们全都兴高采烈的，简直有些受不了，可这种局面没有持续下去。他们一个个都有了自己的烦恼。埃德蒙就有许多烦心事。他们根本不听从他的意见，就从伦敦请来一个绘景师，已经开始工作，这就大大增加了开支，而且更糟糕的是，事情闹得沸沸扬扬。他哥哥没有遵照他的意见不请外人，反倒向与他有来往的每家人都发出了邀请。汤姆本人则为绘景师进度慢而感到焦躁，等得很不耐烦。他早就背熟了他的角色的台词——应该说他所有角色的台词——因为他把能与男管家合并的小角色全都承担了下来，因此，他迫不及待地想演出了。这样无所事事地每过一天，他会越发觉得他所担任的角色全都没有意思，后悔怎么没选个别的戏。
范妮总是谦恭有礼地听别人讲话，加上那些人身边往往只有她一个听他们说话，因此他们差不多都要向她抱怨诉苦。她就听说：大家都认为耶茨先生大声嚷嚷起来非常可怕；耶茨先生对亨利·克劳福德感到失望；汤姆·伯特伦说话太快，台下会听不懂；格兰特太太爱笑，煞尽了风景；埃德蒙还没有背会他的台词；拉什沃思先生处处让人为难，每次开口都得给他提台词。她还听说，可怜的拉什沃思先生很难找到人和他一起排练；而他呢，也会向她诉苦，向其他人诉苦。她两眼看得分明，表姐玛丽亚在躲避他，并且没有必要地常和克劳福德先生一起排演他俩共演的第一场，因此她马上又担心拉什沃思先生会有别的抱怨。她发现，那伙人远不是人人满意、个个高兴，而都想得到点自己没有的东西，并给别人带来不快。每个人不是嫌自己的戏长就是嫌自己的戏短，谁都不能按时到场，谁都不去记自己从哪边出场——一个个只知埋怨别人，谁也不肯服从指导。
范妮虽然不参加演出，但却觉得自己从中获得了同样的乐趣。亨利·克劳福德演得很好，范妮悄悄走进剧场观看排练第一幕，尽管她对玛丽亚的某些台词有些反感，她还是感到很愉快。她觉得玛丽亚也演得很好——太好了。经过一两次排练之后，观众席上只剩下范妮一个人，有时给演员提词，有时在一边旁观——常常很有用处。在她看来，克劳福德先生绝对是最好的演员：他比埃德蒙有信心，比汤姆有判断力，比耶茨先生有天赋和鉴赏力。她不喜欢他这个人，但不得不承认他是最好的演员。在这一点上，没有多少人跟她看法不同。不错，耶茨先生对他有看法，说他演得枯燥乏味。终于有一天，拉什沃思先生满脸阴沉地转过身对她说：“你觉得他有哪点演得好的？说实话，我不欣赏他。咱俩私下说句话，这样一个又矮又小、其貌不扬的人被捧成好演员，我觉得实在令人好笑。”
从这时起，他以前的嫉妒心又复发了。玛丽亚由于比以前更想得到克劳福德，也就不去管他嫉妒不嫉妒。这样一来，拉什沃思先生那四十二段台词就更难背熟了。除了他妈妈以外，谁也不指望他能把台词背得像个样。而他那个妈妈，甚至认为她儿子应该演个更重要的角色。她要等多排练一阵之后才来到曼斯菲尔德，好把她儿子要演的每一场都看一看。但其他人都只希望他能记住上场的接头语，记住他每段台词的头一句，其余的话能提一句说一句。范妮心肠软，怜悯他，花了很大力气教他背，尽可能从各方面帮助他，启发他，想变着法子帮他记忆，结果她把他的每句台词都背会了，而他却没有多大长进。
她心里的确有许多不安、焦灼、忧心的想法。但是有这么多事，而且还有其他事要她操心，要她花工夫，她觉得自己在他们中间绝不是无事可干，没有用处，绝不是一个人坐立不安，也绝不是没有人要占用她的闲暇，求得她的怜悯。她原先担心自己会在忧郁中度日，结果发现并非如此。她偶尔对大家都有用处，她心里也许和大家一样平静。
而且，有许多针线活需要她帮忙。诺里斯太太觉得她跟大家一样过得挺快活，这从她的话里可以听得出来。“来，范妮，”她叫道，“这些天你倒挺快活的。不过，你不要总是这样自由自在地从这间屋子走到那间屋子，尽在一旁看热闹。我这儿需要你。我一直在累死累活地干，人都快站不住了，就想用这点缎子给拉什沃思先生做斗篷，我看你可以给我帮个忙拼凑拼凑。只有三条缝，你一下子就能缝好。我要是光管管事，那就算运气了。我可以告诉你，你是最快活不过了。要是人人都像你这么清闲，我们的进展不会很怏。”
范妮也不想为自己辩护，一声不响地把活接了过来，不过她那位比较心善的伯特伦姨妈替她说话了。
“姐姐，范妮应该觉得快活，这也没什么好奇怪的。你知道，她从没见过这样的场面。你和我以前都喜欢看演戏——我现在还喜欢看。一等到稍微闲一点，我也要进去看看他们排练。范妮，这出戏是讲什么的？你可从没给我说过呀。”
“噢！妹妹，请你现在不要问她。范妮可不是那种嘴里说话手里还能干活的人。那戏讲的是情人的誓言。”
“我想，”范妮对伯特伦姨妈说，“明天晚上要排练三幕，你可以一下子看到所有的演员。”
“你最好等幕布挂上以后再去，”诺里斯太太插嘴说。“再过一两天幕布就挂好了。演戏没有幕布没有看头——我敢肯定，幕布一拉就会呈现非常漂亮的褶子。”
伯特伦夫人似乎很愿意等待。范妮可不像姨妈那样处之泰然。她很关切明天的排练。如果明天排练三幕，埃德蒙和克劳福德小姐就要第一次同台演出。第三幕有一场是他们两人的戏，范妮特别关注这场戏，既想看又怕看他们两人是怎么演的。整个主题就是谈情说爱——男的大讲建立在爱情基础上的婚姻，女的差不多在倾诉爱情。
范妮满怀苦涩、满怀惶惑的心情，把这一场读了一遍又一遍，揪心地想着这件事，就等着看他们演出，忍不住要看个究竟。她相信他们还没有排练过，也没在私下排练过。
第二天来到了，晚上的计划没有变。范妮一想到晚上的排练，心里依然焦躁不安。在大姨妈的指挥下，她勤勤勉勉地做着活，但是勤勉不语掩饰了她的心神不安和心不在焉。快到中午的时候，她拿着针线活逃回了东屋，因为她听到亨利·克劳福德提出要排练第一幕，而她对此不感兴趣，觉得完全没有必要再去排练这一幕，她只想一个人清静清静，同时也避免看到拉什沃思先生。她经过门厅的时候，看到两位女士从牧师住宅走来，这时她仍然没有改变要回房躲避的念头。她在东屋一边做活，一边沉思，周围没有任何干扰。过了一刻钟，只听有人轻轻敲门，随即克劳福德小姐进来了。
“我没走错门吧？没错，这就是东屋。亲爱的普莱斯小姐，请你原谅，我是特意来求你帮忙的。”
范妮大为惊讶，不过为了显示自己是屋主人，还是客气了一番，随即又不好意思地望望空炉栅上发亮的铁条。
“谢谢你——我不冷，一点也不冷。请允许我在这儿待一会儿，给我帮帮忙，听我背第三幕台词。我把剧本带来了，你要是愿意和我一起排练，我会不胜感激！我今天到这儿来，本想和埃德蒙一起排练的——我们自己先练练——为晚上做个准备，可我没碰到他。即使碰到他，我恐怕也不好意思和他一起练，直等到我把脸皮练厚一点，因为那里面真有一两段——你会帮助我的，对吧？”
范妮非常客气地答应了，不过语气不是很坚决。
“你有没有看过我所说的那一段？”克劳福德小姐接着说，一面打开剧本。“就在这儿。起初我觉得没什么了不起的——可是，说实在话——瞧，你看看这段话，还有这段，还有这段。我怎么能两眼瞅着他说出这样的话来？你说得出吗？不过他是你表哥，这就大不一样了。你一定要和我练一练，我好把你想象成他，慢慢习惯起来。你的神情有时候真像他。”
“我像吗？我非常乐意尽力而为——不过我只能念，背不出来。”
“我想你一句也背不出。当然要给你剧本。现在就开始吧。我们身边要有两把椅子，你好往台子前边拿。那儿有——用来上课倒挺好，可能不大适合演戏。比较适合小姑娘坐在上边踢腾着脚学习功课。你们的家庭女教师和你姨父要是看到我们用这椅子来演戏，不知道会说什么？要是托马斯爵士这当儿看见了我们，非把他气坏不可，我们把他家到处变成了排练场。耶茨在餐厅里大喊大叫。我是上楼时听见的，占着剧场的肯定是那两个不知疲倦的排练者：阿加莎和弗雷德里克。他们要是演不好，那才怪呢。顺便告诉你，我五分钟前进去看他们，恰好他们在克制自己不要拥抱，拉什沃思先生就在我身边。我觉得他脸色不对，就想尽量把事情岔开，低声对他说：‘我们将有一个很好的阿加莎，她的一举一动很有几分母性的韵味，她的声音和神情更是母性韵味十足。’我表现得不错吧？他一下子高兴起来。现在我练独白吧。”
克劳福德小姐开始了。范妮帮她练的时候，一想到自己代表埃德蒙，便不禁变得谨慎稳重起来，但她的神情、声音完全是女性的，因而不是个很好的男人形象。不过，面对这样一个安哈尔特，克劳福德小姐倒也挺有勇气，两人刚练完半场，听到有人敲门，便停了下来。转眼间，埃德蒙进来了，排练完全停止了。
这次不期而遇使得三人个个又惊又喜，又觉尴尬。埃德蒙来这里的目的和克劳福德小姐完全一样，因此他们俩的喜悦之情是不会转瞬即逝的。他也带着剧本来找范妮，要她陪他先演练一下，帮他为晚上的排练做准备，却没想到克劳福德小姐就在大宅里。两人就这样碰到了一起，互相介绍了自己的计划，同声赞扬范妮好心帮忙，真是高兴之至，兴奋不已。
范妮可没有他们那样的兴致。在他们兴高采烈之际，她的情绪却低落下来。她觉得对他们俩来说，她变得近乎微不足道了，尽管他们都是来找她的，她并不因此感到安慰。他们现在要一起排练了。埃德蒙先提出来，又敦促，又恳求——小姐起初并非很不愿意，后来也就不再拒绝——范妮的用处只是给他们提提词，看他们排练。那两人还真给她赋予了在一旁评判、提意见的使命，恳切地希望她行使职权，给他们指出每一个缺点。但她对此抱有一种畏怯心理，还不能、不愿、也不敢这样做。即使她有资格提意见，她的良心也不让她贸然提出批评。她觉得这件事整个让她心里觉得不是滋味，具体的意见不会客观可靠。给他们提提词已经够她干的了，有时候她还未必能干得好，因为她不能时时刻刻都把心用在剧本上。她看他们排练的时候会要走神。眼见埃德蒙越来越起劲，她感到焦灼不安，有一次正当他需要提词的时候，她却把剧本合了起来，转过身去。她解释说是由于疲倦的缘故，倒是个很正当的理由。他们感谢她，怜悯她。但是，他们怎么也猜不到她该得到他们多大的怜悯。这一场终于练完了，那两人互相夸奖，范妮也强打精神把两人都称赞了一番。等那两人走后，她把前后的情景想了想，觉得他们演得情真意切，肯定会赢得好评，但却会给她带来巨大的痛苦。不论结果如何，那一天她还得再忍受一次这沉重的打击。
晚上肯定要进行前三幕的第一次正规排练。格兰特太太、克劳福德兄妹已经约定吃过晚饭就来参加，其他有关的人也急切地盼着晚上到来。这期间，人们似乎个个喜笑颜开。汤姆为大功即将告成而高兴，埃德蒙因为上午的那场练习而兴高采烈，人们心里的小小烦恼似乎一扫而光。人人都急不可待，女士们马上就起身了，男士们也立即跟上去，除了伯特伦夫人、诺里斯太太和朱莉娅以外，都提前来到了剧场。这时点燃了蜡烛，照亮了尚未竣工的舞台，就等格兰特太太和克劳福德兄妹到来，排练就要开始。
没等多久克劳福德兄妹就来了，但格兰特太太却没露面。她来不成了。格兰特博士说他不舒服，不放他太太来，可他那漂亮的小姨子不相信他有什么病。
“格兰特博士病了，”克劳福德小姐装出一副一本正经的样子说道。“他一直不舒服，今天的野鸡一点也没吃。他说没烧烂——把盘子推到了一边——一直不舒服。”
真煞风景啊！格兰特太太来不了真令人遗憾。她那讨人喜欢的仪态与随和快乐的性情一向使她深受众入欢迎——今天更是绝对离不开她。她不来，大家就演不好，排练不好。整个晚上的乐趣会丧失殆尽。怎么办呢？汤姆是演村民的，一筹莫展。惶惑了一阵之后，有几双眼睛转向范妮，有一两个人说：“不知道普莱斯小姐肯不肯给念念她那个角色的台词。”顿时，恳求声从四面八方袭来，人人都在求她，连埃德蒙都说：“来吧，范妮，如果你不觉得很反感的话。”
但范妮仍然踌躇不前。她不敢想象这样的事。他们为什么不去求克劳福德小姐呢？她明知自己房里最安全，为什么不早点回房去，却要来看排练？她早就知道来这里看排练会上火生气——早就知道自己不该来。她现在是活该受惩罚。
“你只要念念台词就行了，”亨利·克劳福德又一次恳求说。
“我相信她会背每一句话，”玛丽亚补充说，“那天她纠正了格兰特太太二十处错误。范妮，我想你肯定背得出这个角色的台词。”
范妮不敢说她背不出——大家都在执意恳求——埃德蒙又求了她一次，而且带着亲切依赖的神情，相信她会玉成此事。这时她不得不服从，只好尽力而为。大家都满意了，一个个都在准备开始，而她那颗心还在惶恐地急剧跳动。
排练正式开始了。大家只顾得闹哄哄地演戏，没注意从大宅的另一端传来一阵不寻常的嘈杂声。接着，门豁地开了，朱莉娅立在门口，大惊失色地嚷道：“我父亲回来了！眼下就在门厅里。”