Posted on Thursday, 5 June 2008

When Miss Fanny Price returned to Mansfield Park after her long absence, nobody took much notice of what she brought with her. Her cousin Edmund, for example, had barely noticed the fact that during the whole journey, Miss Price had kept a large wicker basket close by, nor that Miss Susan Price, who had accompanied her sister to Mansfield Park, started cooing to the basket when she thought no one was listening. This, however, it has to be said, would not have made anyone wonder about the contents of the wicker basket, since it was generally known that Miss Susan, as a long-time resident of Portsmouth, must be quite peculiar. Mr Edmund Bertram was, furthermore, too much occupied with trying to find excuses for Miss Crawford's inexcusable behaviour to wonder too much about why the plans for his cousin's journey had been changed in the last minute, and instead of at her family's home in Portsmouth, he had been asked to pick her up at a much-frequented inn in London, where she and her sister had been waiting with their luggage, which included, as has been mentioned before, a wicker basket of large proportions.

Lady Bertram was so fatigued from the exertions of the morning that she could not possibly rise from her sofa and greet her dear Fanny, but she asked the maid to deliver her most heartfelt salutations to Miss Price. Master Bertram was much more inclined to greet his cousin, but he was, most unfortunately, not in a position that allowed him to rise from his sickbed just yet, which was the reason why he had to employ methods similar to those of his mother in order to assure Miss Price and Miss Susan that they were much welcomed. Sir Thomas, on the other hand, was both capable and willing to meet Miss Price upon her arrival, but Mrs Norris, who had no mind to see Fanny, or to grant Fanny the pleasure of having any member of the household meet her, detained him with questions about her and Mrs Rushworth's imminent retirement to some distant place, which would take place as soon as Mrs Rushworth could be persuaded to leave the gentleman she professed to be in love with. It was thus that no one but a group of housemaids met Fanny Price, her sister and Master Edmund when they returned to Mansfield Park, and if any of them thought it peculiar that Miss Price was carrying a gigantic wicker basket and that Miss Susan was singing it a lullaby, they did not let anything on. Miss Price enquired very prettily after everyone's health, and upon being assured that at least in the staff quarters, everyone was safe and sound, she retired to the so-called East Room, where a fire had been lit on Sir Thomas' orders. Various items, it transpired, had been brought from the attics in case the Miss Price should need them, but these, Master Edmund did not notice when he helped carry the luggage upstairs. It can be assumed that for him, the East Room carried far too many memories to allow him to notice the changes that had been made recently.

Miss Price was not seen downstairs again before dinner, but Sir Thomas, as soon as he could get rid of Mrs Norris, paid a visit to her in the East Room and was seen leaving it an hour later with shimmering, wet eyes. The housekeeper was ready to blame the chimney sweep, for it was well known that he was rather lazy and did not bother to pay the chimneys his full attention. That, however, the chimney was now smoking in poor Miss Price's room, who had only just returned from Portsmouth, and therefore needed all the comfort she could get - as Sir Thomas had repeatedly pointed out - was thought to be a real insult, and the housekeeper was determined to give the man a good talking-to as soon as he showed at the kitchen door again. She was in half a mind to speak to Sir Thomas about finding another chimney sweep instantly, but as Sir Thomas locked himself in the library after his visit to the East Room, and was not seen by anyone, apart from his valet, who had been ordered to bring more Scotch, this turned out to be impossible. Lady Bertram spent the hours before dinner resting from the exercise of penning a short note to her dear Fanny, in which she expressed her hope that dear Fanny would soon find the time to say hello to her aunt and to Pug, who was most anxious to meet his long-time benefactress. Master Bertram found it a bit peculiar that his cousin would not instantly rush to his sickbed, but as a housemaid told him that 'Miss was quite fatigued, sir, and also had the large basket to take care of,' he comforted himself to think that Miss Price would probably see him as soon as she had unpacked all her belongings. Mrs Norris, in the other hand, was comforted in thinking that she would only see Fanny again when she needed something to be done, which she thought might be rather sooner than later, seeing that she still had not packed all her bags for the removal to a distant place, and was dreadfully behind in carrying heavy objects around.

Dinner was an intimate affair that night. Mrs Norris excused herself, claiming that she was dreadfully behind on writing packing lists. Sir Thomas suspected that her absence was rather a consequence of their argument from the afternoon, when he had once again insisted that he would not pay for his daughter's divorce unless she returned home and swore never to meet Mr Crawford again, and that he did not see how he could even if he wanted because it was Mr Rushworth's duty to apply for a legal separation. Mrs Norris had been of the opinion that Mrs Rushworth should be allowed to marry Mr Crawford, but Sir Thomas had made it clear that he would not give either his money or his consent to an alliance as shameful as this, and that he was in half a mind to have his daughter kidnapped and brought back to Mansfield, to spend the reminder of her days locked up in the attic. He had furthermore refused to pay Mr Rushworth any money to make him apply to the courts in the next month. Upon this, Mrs Norris had angrily stormed out of the room and had once more regretted that she had not paid more money to the man who was supposed to throw Sir Thomas overboard in the Carribean. The lesson that bribery can never be cheap had come at a high cost to Mrs Norris, who had spent almost a guinea on the removal of her brother.

Master Bertram, however, did come down for dinner that night, as it was a special occasion, and so did Lady Bertram, inspite of her exhaustion, because she could not bear to be separated from her dear Fanny any longer. Sir Thomas was much more talkative and gay than usual, which everyone put down to the effort he had taken in testing the new sort of Scotch that had been delivered just the day before.

‘A toast!' he demanded when everyone was seated.
‘I would like to toast my niece Fanny, who has brought all of us so much joy and happiness, and her sister Susan, who has most graciously agreed to come here and help Fanny with her - things.'

Sir Thomas rose from his place and lifted his glass, expecting his family to follow suit, but unfortunately, Master Bertram was still too weak for such artistic experiments and Lady Bertram claimed likewise. Master Edmund, who would have had the physical strength to toast his cousin, had been pondering whether Miss Crawford might have been suffering from a dreadful brain condition that had rendered her unable to notice erroneous behaviour and only realised he was expected to rise and raise his glass when his father was seated again, so that he slumped back onto his chair rather awkwardly and asked himself whether Miss Crawford's presumed condition might have been infectuous.

‘Cousin Fanny,' Master Bertram said, ‘how did you like Portsmouth?'

‘Portsmouth?' Miss Price asked confused.

‘You were in Portsmouth, right?' Master Bertram said, now equally confused. ‘Or was it Plymouth? You were staying with your family, were you not?'

‘Oh! Portsmouth,' Miss Price said hastily. ‘It was - nice.'

Fortunately for Miss Price, the light was none to bright in the dining parlour, for candles, even if they are waxen, will have that effect, and thus Master Bertram did not see that she was blushing profusely, or that her hands were shaking. Sir Thomas might have noticed, perhaps, as he was sitting next to her, but he did not remark upon it, and neither did Master Edmund, who was just now thinking that it had been more than nine months now since Miss Crawford and her brother had come into the neighbourhood, and that Miss Crawford's condition was probably chronic if she had still not been healed.

‘So what does one do in Portsmouth?' Master Bertram asked. ‘It is at the seaside, is it not?'

‘We took - walks,' Miss Price said slowly. ‘And we looked at - ships. In the water. The sea. Portsmouth is at the seaside.'

‘Portsmouth has done you good,' Lady Bertram said unexpectedly, ‘you look much healthier now. I remember when you went away you had those awful stomach complaints that would not go away. You were sick all the time and your tummy was all swollen. You look much better now, do you not agree, Sir Thomas?'

Sir Thomas only nodded, his eyes glistening once more. The footman thought that it was a shame that the chimney sweep had not even had the decency to see to it that the chimney in the dining room was properly swept, especially now that Sir Thomas had developed a sensitivity for smoke. Master Edmund wondered whether a stay in Portsmouth might possibly cure Miss Crawford and make her come back with senses regained and a bust as full as his cousin Fanny's. He suddenly found he could not keep his gaze away from his cousin Fanny's body, which was strange since he was not married to her and therefore did not desire her in the least.

‘You look very healthy, cousin,' he finally said. ‘Portsmouth has done you good.'

‘Thank you,' Miss Price said and blushed even more. 'I liked it in - Portsmouth. I took walks and looked at ships.'

Miss Price hastily gulped down half a glass of water.

‘If you would excuse me,' she said, ‘I have something upstairs in my basket that I need to make sure is all right.'

‘Go, go, Fanny,' Sir Thomas said,
‘I shall come upstairs later and say goodnight to - you and Susan.'

‘Mrs Rushworth still refuses to leave her paramour,' Sir Thomas announced the next morning when he and his sons had sat down for breakfast. ‘I just had a letter from her telling me that she and Mr Crawford are resolved to remain together for the rest of their lives.'

‘So you see, they deserve to be married,' Mrs Norris said. Sir Thomas was not sure when exactly she had returned to Mansfield Park, but she had already been sitting at the breakfast table and eating fried sausages when they had come downstairs.

‘But my dear madam,' Sir Thomas said in as amiable a voice as he could muster, ‘would that not deprive you of the opportunity to live with Mrs Rushworth? I could not possibly deny you that, especially seeing that you have been packing for this the last week.'

‘'On the contrary, Sir Thomas,' Mrs Norris replied, obviously unperturbed, ‘as soon as they are married, I could go and live with them. Once their union has been legalised, it would be perfectly acceptable for me, and I do think Mrs Rushworth longs to see me again.'

Sir Thomas was clever enough to see that he was made an offer he could not possibly refuse. The deal was clear. As soon as he arranged for Mrs Rushworth to be divorced, and subsequently married to Mr Crawford, Mrs Norris would leave Mansfield Park, hopefully forever, and turn her attentions to Mrs Rushworth and Mr Crawford, for whom, Sir Thomas thought, there could not be a more fitting punishment. It was a thought that deserved some careful examination and he was already wondering whether he should write to Mr Rushworth this very morning. A divorce from a scandal-ridden wife could only be in Mr Rushworth's interest and it would not take much persuasion, if any at all, for Mr Rushworth to see that applying to the courts was the best possible course.

‘Did my sister Maria make any mention of Mr Crawford or his family, sir?' Master Edmund suddenly asked. ‘I wonder how they are doing?'

‘There is no need to unnecessarily mention that gentleman's name, Edmund,' Sir Thomas said sharply. ‘I would be happy if I never had to hear it again, and I cannot tell you how glad I am that I had the presence of mind not to press Fanny to marry him when he offered for her. Of course, I had thought about arranging that union, but when Fanny explained the situation to me - but never mind that, and that is the end to it.'

‘Fanny is most ungrateful indeed,' Mrs Norris said between two large bites of sausage, ‘I dare say she never realised how fortunate she was to receive an offer from Mr Crawford in the first place, and to be so stubborn as to say she could never marry because it would be against nature itself was a very unkind thing to say after all he had done for her and you were of course quite right to send her to Portsmouth soon after. It is, however, fortunate after all that she refused him, for otherwise, Mrs Rushworth could never have become engaged to him.'

Sir Thomas was about to protest against the slandering of his niece. He wished very much to point out to Mrs Norris that she was in no position to insult members of his household and had to overcome a strong urge to forbid her to enter his breakfast parlour again. Before he could say anything, however, his eldest son and heir spoke, and Sir Thomas momentarily forgot about the matter of Mrs Norris' unacceptable behaviour.

‘Has my mother's dog had any whelps lately, sir?' Master Bertram asked. ‘I heard the strangest howling sound last night, and my man had no idea where it could come from, but he told me that the housemaids were busy heating milk in the kitchens in the wee hours. I must say, sir, that it seems an awful lot of effort for a bunch of dogs.'

‘The milk was for me,' Sir Thomas said hastily. ‘I was not feeling too well last night. I must have made quite some racket if you could hear me moaning with stomach cramps.'

‘Cousin Fanny keeps to her room, sir,' Master Bertram said to his father later that day, ‘do you think she is all right?'

‘Why would she not?' Sir Thomas said shortly.

‘I do not know,' Master Bertram replied, ‘but when I went to see her just now, she hastily stuffed something in that abnormally large basket of hers and fumbled with the buttons on her gown, as if she was dressing. Do you think she is hiding something from us, sir?'

‘Absolutely not,' Sir Thomas said. ‘Should you not be in bed, son? Go and lie down instantly, and I shall have a look at Fanny and her - basket.'

Sir Thomas spent most of the afternoon in the East Room with his nieces and only returned to his library shortly before dinner. To his surprise, he found that that room was already occupied, by no one else than his second son, who was leafing through a large tome.

‘Good evening, sir,' Edmund said without looking up.

‘Evening, Edmund,' Sir Thomas replied; then he noticed what book it was that had captivated Edmund's interest and chuckled. ‘Are you not a little too old by now to be searching for the anatomically correct drawings in the medical atlas, Edmund?'

Master Edmund, who had, in fact, not been looking for anatomically correct drawings, but for a treatise on brain illnesses, frowned at his father's cryptic remark and jotted down another note on brain fevers. Sir Thomas was left to wonder at the lack of remorse on his normally so particular son's part. Surely, any other young man would at least pretend he was not looking for the anatomically correct drawings in front of his father, instead of calmly proceeding to study the treatise. Sir Thomas vividly remembered the many times he had found a flushed and embarrassed Tom with the same volume. He had not, though, he now recalled, ever found Edmund with the book. He had been watchful ever since Tom had turned twelve, but either Edmund possessed greater stealth, or more propriety, or less courage than his brother, or he had not been interested in the anatomically correct drawings. The last possibility Sir Thomas ruled out instantly, and he was left to conclude that his second son had probably been too much of a coward to seek out the book before now, and had only mustered the courage now. At least, Sir Thomas pondered, he would not have to repeat the lecture he gave his elder son upon that young man's discovery of the atlas. Edmund had by now reached an age and a position in life where it could be assumed that he knew all he had to know about everything the atlas could relate to him. Sir Thomas did not think there was anything he needed to explain to Edmund now and was glad he had been spared the embarrassment of pointing out certain aspects of human life for a second time. He was wrong, of course, but he did not realise that until later.

Sir Thomas left his son alone with the medical atlas and retired into the drawing-room, only to startle his wife, who had been lying down a little to recover from the excitements of the morning.

‘Sir Thomas!' she exclaimed in a weak voice and clutched her chest. ‘Has anything happened?'

Sir Thomas realised that she was not used to seeing him in this room at this hour and set upon to calm his wife.

‘Have you seen Fanny, Sir Thomas?' Lady Bertram asked after she had been assured that nothing was out of order. ‘I have not seen her at all since the morning, when she was here for only a very short while and left when her sister came for her. And then there was this dreadful howling around midday, which gave me quite a headache so that I had to lie down. I have no idea where it came from. At first I thought that poor Pug was injured, but he was sleeping on the sofa, so it could not have been him. Do you think that Fanny may have -'

‘No, not at all,' Sir Thomas said at once.

‘Well, I am glad about that,' Lady Bertram said. ‘These nervous conditions are dreadful things, I would not wish them on anybody, and most certainly not on Fanny. But who could have made that horrible noise?'

‘I have no idea,' Sir Thomas said, ‘perhaps you only imagined it, madam.'

‘I suppose I must have,' Lady Bertram sighed.

‘Very well, I shall go and see my man,' Sir Thomas said and rose from his chair.

‘If you see Fanny, will you tell her that I have some piece of embroidery that she may have a look at if she wants?' Lady Bertram called after him.

A longer conversation with his wife was not what he preferred right now, so Sir Thomas decided to hide in his bedroom until it was time for dinner and hoped he would not have to deal with his family there. Before he had reached this refuge, however, he almost ran into Mrs Norris, who had been waiting for him with one of her packing lists. She had searched him, it turned out, with the intention of asking him - or rather demanding from him - whether the grand piano from the salon could be sent to her and the Crawford's future home. When it transpired from their discussion that Sir Thomas had not yet taken any steps towards the acquisition of such a place, nor did he intend to do so in the future, Mrs Norris angrily demanded to know how he supposed they would find such a place without his help. Upon learning that Sir Thomas fully relied on Mr Crawford to provide Mrs Rushworth and Mrs Norris with an acceptable home, and furthermore that he could not be convinced to support his daughter and her companion financially, or to settle any sum of money on either his sister or his daughter, Mrs Norris was more certain than ever that she should have given that sailor the full guinea, and maybe even sixpence more for beverages.

‘I suppose that if Fanny demanded money for herself or that brat, you would give it to them instantly,' Mrs Norris shrieked.

‘What brat?' Sir Thomas asked hastily.

‘That daughter of my sister that you insisted would accompany Fanny,' Mrs Norris replied, ‘Suzy or whatever her name is. I tell you, you show my sister's children more compassion than you show your own offspring, and especially now that Maria needs your full support, you are not willing to give her anything of what is rightfully hers. Nor have you, I have noticed, settled anything more than was her due on Julia and her husband, even though you know that they could very well use the money. But my sister's offspring, you are continuing to promote in every possible way. But you do not fool me, Sir Thomas, I know exactly what is the reason behind all this!'

‘No, you do not,' Sir Thomas said at once.

‘You do this all just to spite me!' Mrs Norris replied. ‘You think I would not notice, but I have and I tell you that you cannot treat me like this, nor can you deny your daughters what they need.'

Mrs Norris would have gone on in her tirade, and possible said some unforgivable things that would finally have allowed Sir Thomas to ban her from his house for ever, but before she could draw breath, she was rudely interrupted by a most peculiar howling that seemed to emit from the East Room.

‘Now you have disturbed the - basket,' Sir Thomas said accusingly to Mrs Norris.

‘Do not be ridiculous, Sir Thomas,' Mrs Norris said. ‘It is Fanny, probably, having one of her temper tantrums. She is the most obstinate girl I ever met, and I should not wonder at all if she was destroying your possessions just now. You need not worry, Sir Thomas, I will talk to her this instant and show her the error of her ways.'

‘You cannot go in there,' Sir Thomas said instantly and positioned himself in front of the door to the East Room. ‘You do not want to disturb Fanny, she might be sleeping.'

‘Sleeping?' Mrs Norris snorted. ‘I can hear her wailing. Let me get to her and remind her of her position and what is due to her hosts!'

Mrs Norris won the struggle that ensued, as she had both the advantage of a greater physical strength and of Sir Thomas' reluctance to manhandle a woman. Much to her dismay, however, she found the door to the room locked. She severely reprimanded Sir Thomas for providing his undeserving niece with a key to her room but could do little more than wait for Miss Price or her sister to open the door, because Sir Thomas denied that he possessed a key and Mrs Norris could not bring herself to search his pockets; she had been taught that it was most improper behaviour. At long last, the door was opened by Miss Susan Price, who implored them to be less noisy because her sister had just lain down. When Mrs Norris asked about the wailing, Miss Susan explained that her sister had accidentally swallowed a wasp and was trying to spit it out, thereby producing the sound that Mrs Norris and Sir Thomas had heard. She was glad to tell them, however, that neither Miss Price nor the wasp had taken any lasting damage, and that as soon as she had recovered from the exertions, Miss Price should be as good as new once more. Miss Susan refused to let Mrs Norris enter the East Room, but Mrs Norris' physical powers won the day once more and she simply pushed Miss Susan aside and boldly entered the room. Mrs Norris found Miss Price standing at the window with a bundle of clothes on her arm. Upon seeing Mrs Norris, Miss Price hastily stuffed bundle of clothes in the enormous wicker basket that stood next to the sofa and strode over to the crib at the far end of the room, which she covered with a large shawl. Mrs Norris instantly recognised the crib as the very same crib that had been used for all the Bertram children and demanded an explanation from Sir Thomas why he had given an heirloom as costly as this to his undeserving and headstrong niece simply so that she could store her superfluous items of clothing there. Miss Price blushed deeply and looked mortified at the accusations of her aunt that she had far too many luxurious clothes and would do well to send some to Mrs Rushworth, who had left her husband's house with nothing more but what she carried on her and would be in dire need of Indian shawls such as the one which Miss Price had carelessly tossed over the valuable crib, which, as Mrs Norris repeated, had no business in Miss Price's room in the first place. Sir Thomas, who had looked a bit confounded at the beginning of Mrs Norris' tirade, was recovered so much now that he could tell Mrs Norris, in a calm voice, that the servants were currently cleaning the attics and that all the superfluous furniture, such as the crib and various other items from the old nursery, were temporarily stored in Miss Price's room because she did not need all the space. Mrs Norris was mollified at a response that implied that Miss Price had to give up some of her comforts and left the room in order to get ready for dinner.

Several days passed in the same manner. Sir Thomas got up early and went down to breakfast, only to find that Mrs Norris was already sitting at the table and eating. His son Edmund joined him for breakfast, but rarely spoke, and Master Bertram occasionally came down as well, when he felt up to it. Lady Bertram kept to her rooms, mostly, because she found herself mysteriously bereft of her energy. The mornings, Sir Thomas would spend in his library with nothing but his books and occasionally his steward to keep him company. In the afternoons, when Sir Thomas spent time with Miss Price and Miss Susan, Master Edmund usually used the library to advance his medical research on Miss Crawford's condition. Miss Price was rarely seen out of her room, but nobody worried about her much; the quantities of milk she ordered from the kitchen indicated that she was clearly in good health. Master Bertram had expressed a wish to visit his cousins in the East Room, but instead, one of the Misses Price usually sat with him before dinner. For dinner, Sir Thomas had the pleasure of seeing all his family assembled at the table, at least those who were living at Mansfield. There was not much sensible conversation, however. The Misses Price rarely talked of anything but the food, Master Bertram tried in vain to extract a full sentence from Miss Susan and Lady Bertram was much too fatigued to talk a great deal. She did inform her family about her tiredness, but was often cut short by Mrs Norris' soliloquies about her imminent removal to Mrs Rushworth's household and her opinion about the way Sir Thomas was treating his daughter. Master Edmund did not talk at all; there was a lot of research he had to contemplate after a day of studying.

When Miss Price and Miss Susan had been at Mansfield for almost a fortnight, Mrs Norris thought that she should drop a word into her sister Maria's ear about Miss Price's reluctance to do the tasks she usually did. Miss Price, Mrs Norris said, had not once visited Mrs Norris in her home, and not even offered to help Mrs Norris with her workload now that she was packing for her removal.

‘I cannot think about that now,' Lady Bertram said, ‘let Fanny do what she wants. I do not feel quite my usual self at all today. My legs are so heavy and I am exhausted merely from coming in here.'

‘You are not drinking enough, mother,' Master Edmund, who had been sitting in a corner of the room with one of the medical books he so frequently read now, said. ‘You are probably dehydrated and this is what fatigues you.'

‘Have the girl come upstairs with a glass of water then,' Lady Bertram said without real interest.

‘Better make it a whole jug,' Master Edmund said, ‘and make sure you have drunk it before noon, then have another jug in the afternoon.'

Some time during the afternoon, Lady Bertram suddenly burst into Sir Thomas' library and asked whether he saw any problems if she ordered material for new curtains for the breakfast parlour. Sir Thomas replied that she was free to do whatever she wished, but asked to be informed why she suddenly saw the need to do so. Lady Bertram told Sir Thomas that after having drunk the water her son Edmund had ordered for her, she had felt much more energetic than before, and, upon remembering that the curtains in the breakfast parlour looked faded, she, the housekeeper and the maids had decided to take them down to have a closer look at them. They had found that dyeing probably would not solve the problem and that the best course of action would be to order material for new curtains, which two of the maids would then sew. Lady Bertram added that Sir Thomas need not worry about the old curtains going to waste, for she had found the perfect use for them. She refused, however, to tell Sir Thomas what exactly she was going to do with them, and instead left the room, saying that there was much to be done before dinner, and would Fanny not be pleased when she heard what Lady Bertram had planned.

Sir Thomas shook his head at this and decided to go over to the East Room, as this was the time of the day he usually spent with his nieces. He knocked at the door, fully expecting to be let in at once, but instead, the door was opened to a small crack and he stood eye-to-eye with his wife.

‘This is not a very good moment,' Lady Bertram said. ‘The girls and I are sort of busy.'

‘You and - the girls?' Sir Thomas stuttered. ‘All of them?'

‘You know?' Lady Bertram asked.

‘Yes,' Sir Thomas said simply. ‘You know?'

‘Obviously,' Lady Bertram replied. ‘You know?'

‘My dear girl,' said Sir Thomas, ‘I have known it for months. Now can I come in?'

‘You never told me,' Lady Bertram complained and shut the door behind her husband.

That evening, something happened that had not happened for more than fifteen years. When everyone had gone to bed, Sir Thomas carefully donned his favourite dressing gown, brushed his hair, cleaned his teeth, applied some eau-de-cologne and left his room. He walked on tiptoes across the corridor and softly knocked on the door opposite his. Twice he had to repeat his knocking before the door slowly opened and Lady Bertram peaked into the corridor. She had been preparing for bed as well; she was wearing a lavender-coloured nightgown with a matching dressing gown and had her hair brushed out over her shoulders.

‘Sir Thomas!' she whispered upon seeing her husband. ‘Has anything happened? Are Fanny and -'

‘Everything is in order,' Sir Thomas whispered and added, even softer, ‘everyone is asleep.'

‘But why are you here then?' Lady Bertram asked her husband with wide eyes.

‘I would have thought that was obvious, my dear girl,' Sir Thomas said and brushed some lint off his wife's shoulder. ‘But if you'd prefer me not to -'

‘No, no, not at all,' Lady Bertram repeated at once and tucked at her husband's collar, which was slightly askew. ‘I would much prefer it if you -'

‘Then what are we waiting for?' Sir Thomas growled, lifted up his wife and carried her back into the room, closing the door behind them with his heel.

When Master Bertram came downstairs for breakfast the next morning, he found no one but his cousin Susan seated at the table. Upon his enquiries as to where everyone was, Miss Susan told him that she could not say where anyone was, except for her sister Fanny, who was still busy upstairs, but would come and join them any minute. Master Bertram then asked whether Miss Susan did not enjoy the fine morning and how she liked her coffee. Miss Susan replied that she was much obliged to Master Bertram for being so kind as to ask, and that she was partial to both the morning and the coffee. To their great surprise, Master Bertram and Miss Susan then discovered that they were both fond of a sunny morning and good strong coffee, and that their similarities extended to favouring a slice of toast with eggs and tomatoes to a buttered roll. Miss Susan then informed Master Bertram that she was also much inclined to like a bowl of porridge, provided it was salted, not sweet. Upon hearing this pronouncement, Master Bertram ventured to say that these similarities were inexplicable, and smiled at his cousin until his parents entered the room and thus forced him to get up and greet them. Master Bertram was too much taken aback with the coincidences in his and his cousin's preferences to even notice that his mother had come down for breakfast, and, what was more, that she had entered the room holding hands with his father, which had never before been seen at Mansfield Park and thus was the subject of much speculation in the kitchen, once the footmen had reported about this strange occurrence. Shortly after Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram, Master Edmund entered the room and, after greeting them properly, asked his parents' forgiveness for his late arrival; he had, he informed them, been up early because one of Sir Thomas' tenants needed his assistance with an infected boil. He happily told his parents that he had indeed been able to lessen the poor man's suffering by some simple methods he had learned from one of the medical texts he had been reading. Lady Bertram said that she was glad that her son had found something worthwhile to do and proudly added that she had already drank half a jug of water before breakfast, just as he had advised her to do.

Miss Price was late for breakfast this morning. She did not offer an explanation for her absence, only an apology, and was told off by Mrs Norris, who was sitting in an armchair by the window, to behave with more respect towards her elders. Everyone gasped, for no one had noticed that Mrs Norris had entered the room at all. Sir Thomas wondered for a moment whether his sister had left the house at all during the night, but was cut short in his musings by the arrival of the post. Absent-mindedly, Sir Thomas leafed through the missives he had received until one letter caught his particular attention. He eagerly ripped it open and perused its contents.

‘Mr Rushworth has written,' he told his family, ‘he says he agrees with me; he will obtain a divorce as soon as possible and asks my assistance.'

‘How wonderful for dear Mrs Rushworth!' Mrs Norris exclaimed, ‘I must write to her at once.'

‘You will do no such thing,' Sir Thomas said sternly, ‘I will handle everything, as I promised Mr Rushworth I would.'

‘So that is why he agreed to the divorce!' Master Bertram said.

‘No, in fact, he intends to remarry himself,' Sir Thomas said, ‘a Miss - something or other. Wait, here he writes, ‘... and having had the luck to secure the hands of one of the finest ladies in the kingdom, I am now most eager for a divorce so that Miss Mary Crawford and I can be wed as soon as possible ...''

‘Mary Crawford?' Miss Price said and almost choked on her coffee. ‘Mr Rushworth wants to marry Mary Crawford?'

‘Fellow does not know what he is in for,' Master Bertram remarked cryptically.

‘How do you feel, Edmund?' Miss Price said softly and leaned over to her cousin.

‘I am fine, thank you,' Master Edmund said, ‘just a slight irritation of the skin on my forearm; I do hope I am not developing an over-sensitivity to tropical fruit ...'

‘Mary Crawford ... is getting married,' Miss Price said.

‘Oh, yes, I know,' Master Edmund replied. ‘I do not think she suits him much, but I wish them both luck. Now if you will excuse me, Cook was complaining about an inflammation of her throat; I do think I should have a look at it.'

‘If you want to talk - about anything,' Miss Price said before he left, ‘you are welcome to see me whenever it suits you.'

‘Thank you, Fanny,' Master Edmund said and was gone.

‘He is bearing it better than I thought,' Sir Thomas said and frowned. ‘What is the matter with that boy lately?'

In the afternoon, Lady Bertram disappeared in the East Room once more. The servants, meanwhile, were busy cooking the curtains which Lady Bertram had taken down the day before; they had been urged to make haste since the curtains were needed. Susan Price chose not to stay with her sister, as Lady Bertram was there to keep her company, and instead accepted the proposal of her cousin Tom, which was that they take a stroll in the grounds together. Master Bertram had found that he wanted to spend more time with Miss Susan, for although the morning's conversation had given him much information about her breakfast preferences, he was as of yet woefully ignorant of many other of Miss Susan's habits and opinions. He dearly wanted to rectify this situation and appreciated that his mother took the effort to sit with Miss Price, even though his mother probably did not even know the favour she did her son.

‘I love walking past flowers,' Miss Susan said and paused to take in the scent of the roses. ‘In Portsmouth, you can smell nothing but the sea, at least the part where I live. When Fanny and I first went into the country, I hardly knew where to go first. The air was full of spices! I wish I could stay in the country forever!'

‘But are you not bored?' Master Bertram asked. ‘Do you not sometimes think that something must happen, or you should burst?'

‘But there are so many things that happen here!' Miss Susan exclaimed and danced on the lawn. ‘Look at all that is around you! The nature is ever changing, there is something new to be discovered every day. And I am surrounded by so many kind and caring people - do tell me, why should I wish for anything else?'

Master Bertram took a step towards Miss Susan, who was still dancing between the roses.

‘Do tell me, cousin,' he said, ‘do you waltz?'

Sir Thomas had been banished from the East Room by his wife and his niece, who claimed that they had 'women's things' to discuss, even when Sir Thomas knew fully well that their purpose was to exclaim about a pattern which Lady Bertram had brought with her. Sir Thomas therefore sought refuge in the library, which was once again occupied by Master Edmund, who was reading up on infections of the lungs. After a mumbled greeting to his son, Sir Thomas lit his pipe and settled in front of the chimney.

‘So, Miss Crawford is getting married?' he observed casually.

‘You told us so, sir,' his son replied.

‘I did, indeed,' Sir Thomas said and remained silent for a while. Thoughtfully, he finally added, ‘did you not like her for quite a while?'

‘She is a most charming young lady,' Master Edmund said curtly.

‘But you did not like her, then?' Sir Thomas asked.

‘I believe I have better things to do with my time,' Master Edmund said.

‘Indeed, indeed,' Sir Thomas said, ‘I always thought so, especially after Fanny told me - well, never mind that. I am glad that at least you are not suffering from Rushworth marrying again.'

Master Bertram found he could not keep his gaze away from his cousin as they walked around the park. Miss Susan kept alerting him to intoxicating fragrances and pointing out plants and animals that she took a pleasure in seeing and Master Bertram wished he could for once see the world through her eyes. He knew that she could not have had an easy life before she came to Mansfield, seeing where she had grown up and in which circumstances, so it surprised him all the more that she could embrace nature, and life itself, with such optimism. He wished he could only once see things with such unspoilt enjoyment. He had hardly ever felt as alive as he did now and he hoped with all that was left of his mind that the afternoon would not end too soon. Hardly, however, had he admitted this to himself when they both saw that a carriage pulled up in front of the house. As soon as it had stopped, a young man jumped out of it. Miss Susan squealed in delight upon espying him and ran towards him as fast as she could. Master Bertram was quite put out for a moment, for Miss Susan had embraced the stranger and was still hanging from his neck when Master Bertram had joined them, but then the great similarity between the two led Master Bertram to realise, rightly, that the young man was none other than Master Price, whom he had, in fact, met before.

‘Cousin Thomas,' Master Price said and bowed, ‘how do you do?'

‘Why are you here, William?' Miss Susan asked impatiently, not waiting for Master Bertram to greet his cousin.

‘Sir Thomas wrote me a letter when Fanny had arrived here safely, and he wrote I could come and see you any time I liked, so I decided to stop here on my journey back south,' Master Price said.

‘You were up in the North?' Master Bertram asked. ‘Whatever for?'

‘I was visiting my fiancée and her family,' Master Price said smugly and delighted in the piercingly shrill shriek of joy his sister uttered. ‘Her brother has large property in Derbyshire.'

‘But William - can you afford to get married?' Miss Susan asked anxiously.

‘Not for a couple of years,' Master Price said, ‘but her brother does not mind that, because Georgiana is still very young. He has allowed us to exchange letters as often as we like, and has invited me to visit her whenever I have leave. I must be the happiest man alive.'

‘My most heartfelt wishes to you,' Master Bertram said with more warmth and sincerity than either Miss Susan or Master Price had thought him capable of. ‘You are indeed a lucky fellow.'

‘I am,' Master Price conceded. ‘But now I absolutely must see Fanny. How is she?'

‘Father, I must have a word with you about Fanny,' Master Edmund said tentatively. He had been perusing his medical tomes, as usual, when his father had entered the library, humming to himself and re-arranging his tie while watching his reflection in the mirror over the mantelpiece.

‘What is with Fanny, son?' Sir Thomas asked.

‘Do you not find her changed, father?' Master Edmund asked. ‘I have thought there was something different about her that I could not quite grasp, but now I think I know what it is - father, I think Fanny committed a grave crime!'

‘What nonsense is that?' Sir Thomas demanded. ‘Only because the girl keeps to her room and has gained a little weight, there is nothing to discuss, absolutely nothing, do you understand me?'

‘But if you knew what I saw, father,' Master Edmund said. ‘If you knew - I entered Fanny's room this afternoon, I wanted to ask her whether she knew if the books I ordered had already arrived. I found Fanny alone, sitting in an armchair in front of the window, in a state of complete exposure, and in her arms she cradled -'

‘It was a trick of the light, son,' Sir Thomas said gruffly.

‘It was not,' Master Edmund insisted.

‘Oh, yes, it was,' Sir Thomas said. ‘And do not ask such ridiculous questions.'

‘You know about the whole affair?' Master Edmund asked incredulously, having just come to this conclusion.

‘I might have,' Sir Thomas conceded.

‘But how - how did she come by it?' Master Edmund asked.

For the first time this afternoon, Sir Thomas looked his son squarely in the face, and mustered him with astonishment.

‘Why, son,' he said. ‘I thought that you would be the one to tell me.'

‘Fanny, do you think - have I done anything that makes you -' Master Edmund stammered. He was standing before Fanny and could not find any phrases to word that intention he had formulated as soon as his father had revealed Miss Price's secret to him.

‘Yes, Edmund?' Miss Price said and smiled encouragingly at her cousin. She was a picture of perfection, Master Edmund thought, beautiful in every aspect; it was a shame he could feel nothing but brotherly love for her.

‘It has come to my attention,' Master Edmund began anew, remembering the speech he had prepared, ‘that I may, unwittingly, have done certain actions which lead to certain other actions, which, in short, must make you most desirous to be assured of my unwavering affection and protection and I now want to assure you that you can be certain that you shall receive both and therefore I now want to request of you the honour of your hand in matrimony.'

‘You want to marry me?' Miss Price asked.

‘You must not think that I would shrink from my duty,' Master Edmund continued. ‘If I have been remiss in giving you what is your due so far, it happened only because I was negligent of your circumstances - not that that can be an apology, but at least it should clarify my abominable behaviour towards you in not seeking you out at once. I can now ascertain you, however, that I shall from now on act in such a way as to ensure your continuing prosperity.'

‘But why would you want to marry me?' Miss Price asked.

‘Look, Fanny,' Master Edmund continued in a more natural voice. ‘My father has told me what happened, so there is no point in hiding it from me. I know you must think me incredibly boorish for not having realised what I did sooner, but that does not mean I cannot rectify the situation now, does it? Now, will you marry me?'

‘Oh, Edmund,' Miss Price sighed. ‘There was a time when I should have desired it above all else, but I do not think we should suit at all. You are in love with Miss Crawford after all, and were it not for your ordination -'

‘Stuff Mary Crawford!' Master Edmund exclaimed. ‘And stuff the ordination!'

‘You are not going to be a priest anymore?' Miss Price asked.

‘I have already applied for medical studies,' Master Edmund said proudly. ‘I now realise that anatomy is where my true talent lies, and have known so for several weeks now. What say you, Fanny, could you be a surgeon's wife?'

‘Don't!' Miss Price said. ‘Do not touch upon this subject again, ever, do you hear me? I think it incredibly noble of you to ask me, but we both know it would not work out. Now, shall we go in for dinner?'

As night fell, Mansfield Park grew quiet. Everyone was fast asleep when a tall figure silently climbed up the wall and entered the building through a window on the second floor. The figure then crept through the room to the small bed in the corner and bent down over the sleeper, softly stroking her hair and kissing her forehead.

‘I escaped,' the figure heaved, ‘day and night I thought only of you, and dug a tunnel out of the house with a rusty spoon, only to be with you again. Kiss me just once, Fanny, and I shall be myself again!

A shrill shriek pierced the night air. Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram heard it from Sir Thomas' bedroom and hastily rushed out into the corridor, putting dressing-gowns over their nightshirts. Master Price and Master Bertram rushed out of their respective rooms, followed closely by Master Edmund. The family of Mansfield saw a true spectacle when they entered Miss Susan's chamber, from whence the noise had come. Miss Susan was held by a large woman in a mouldy dress made of green velvet. Miss Susan appeared to have fainted in the stranger's arms; her eyes were closed and drool was dribbling out of her mouth.

‘Who are you, madam?' Sir Thomas demanded. The woman turned around and revealed a three-day stubble.

‘You!' Lady Bertram shrieked.

‘Unhand that lady, Crawford, lest you want me to kill you,' Master Bertram shouted.

‘I am sorry -,' Mr Crawford began; he was still cradling the unconscious Miss Susan. Before he could say anything else, Master Bertram had hit him squarely in the face and probably broken his nose. Mr Crawford tumbled down on to the floor, Miss Susan collapsing on top of him. Blood trickled out of Mr Crawford's nose and spoilt his lace collar.

‘Where is Fanny?' he muttered. ‘Why is she not in her room?'

‘Fanny sleeps in the East Room these days,' Master Bertram said, massaging his knuckles. ‘Did you not know that?'

In that very moment, Miss Price herself entered the room.

‘What happened? I heard some noise and -' she stopped herself when she saw Mr Crawford in his dress, his face covered in blood.

‘Miss Price,' Mr Crawford said and bowed.

‘Mr Crawford,' Miss Price said. ‘I had thought you to be still with Mrs Rushworth.'

‘I escaped,' Mr Crawford said, as if that was explanation enough.

‘Escaped?' Sir Thomas asked.

‘It so happened,' Mr Crawford said, ‘that, upon discovering that she did not find marital felicity in her union with Mr Rushworth, your eldest daughter saw fit to abduct me and, much as it pains me to admit it, held me prisoner in a small cottage ever since, hoping to eventually be granted a divorce by her husband. I only recently managed to escape from my gaol and as soon as I had found vestments to cover myself with, travelled hither, to find Fanny again.'

‘I am much flattered, Mr Crawford,' said Miss Price, before anyone else had the chance to speak.

‘Can you accept now that I love you?' Mr Crawford said, his eyes on Miss Price, ignoring the rest of her family.

‘Oh, Henry!' Miss Price sighed and threw herself into Mr Crawford's outstretched arms, ignoring the blood that was all over him and the scratchy lace on his collar.

After he had compromised her soundly, Mr Crawford turned to Sir Thomas and said, ‘I can promise you, sir, that I shall be a dutiful and loving husband to your niece, and a caring father to her daughters.'

No one had seen Mrs Norris enter the room, but it was she who now spoke.

‘Fanny had a baby?'

The End