Miss Crawford accepted the part readily; and when Mr. Rushworth arrived, another character was cast. He had the offer of Count Cassel and Anhalt, and at first did not know which to choose, but recollecting that he had once seen the play, and had thought Anhalt a very stupid fellow, he decided on the Count.
Miss Bertram approved, for the less he had to learn the better. Though she could not sympathise in his wish that the Count and Agatha act together, nor wait very patiently while he was slowly turning over the leaves with the hope of 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 finely dressed. Mr. Rushworth liked the idea of his finery very well, though pretending to despise it; and was too engaged with his own appearance to feel any of the displeasure which Maria had been prepared for.
Thus much was settled before Edmund, who was out all morning, knew anything of it; but when he entered the drawing-room, the buzz of discussion was high, and Mr. Rushworth stepped forward with 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 pink satin cloak, and afterwards am to have another 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 felt what his sensations must be.
"Lovers' Vows!" in a tone of the greatest amazement, was his reply, and he turned towards his brother and sisters.
"Yes," cried Mr. Yates. "We find there is nothing that will suit us so well. We have cast almost every part."
"But what do you do for women?" said Edmund gravely, 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 with a look of great vexation.
Mr. Rushworth followed him. "I come in three times, and have two-and-forty speeches. That's something, is not it? But I do not like the idea of being so fine. I shall hardly know myself in a pink satin cloak."
Edmund could not answer. Mr. Bertram was called out of the room by the carpenter, and was accompanied by Mr. Yates and Mr. Rushworth. Edmund then said, "My dear Maria, I must tell you that I think this play exceedingly unfit for private performance. I hope you will give it up. Read the first act aloud to your mother, and see how you can approve it."
"I am perfectly acquainted with the play;" cried Maria, "and with a very few omissions, I see nothing objectionable in it; and I am not the only young woman who thinks it fit for private performance."
"I am sorry for it," was his answer; "but in this matter you must set the example. If others have blundered, it is your place to put them right, and show them what true delicacy is."
This picture of her consequence had some effect; and with far more good-humour she answered, "I am obliged to you, Edmund; you mean well, I am sure: but I still think you see things too strongly; and I cannot undertake to harangue all the rest upon the subject."
"Do you imagine that I meant that? No; let your conduct be the only harangue. Say that, on examining the part, you feel yourself unequal to it. All 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."
"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. She might think that she need not be so scrupulous as me. I cannot retract my consent; it is too settled, everybody would be so disappointed; and if we are so fastidious, we shall never act anything."
"I was just going to say the same thing," said Mrs. Norris. "The preparations will be so much money thrown away. I do not know the play; but if there is anything a little too warm it can be easily left out. 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. I think we shall be able to send back some dozens of the rings. I am of some use, I hope, in preventing waste. There should always be one steady head to superintend so many young ones. I forgot to tell Tom of something that happened to me today. Who should I see but Dick Jackson making off with two bits of deal board in his hand, pilfered you may be sure; I hate such encroaching people as the Jacksons, who get all they can. I said to the boy directly, 'I'll take the boards, Dick, so get you home again.' The boy looked very silly, and turned away without a word; and I dare say it will cure him of marauding about the house for a while. I hate such greediness!"
Nobody troubled to answer.
Dinner passed heavily. Mrs. Norris related again her triumph over Dick Jackson, but neither play nor preparation were much talked of, for Edmund's disapprobation was felt even by his brother. Maria thought the subject better avoided. Mr. Yates, who was trying to make himself agreeable to Julia, found her gloom was less on other topics; 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 after an hour or two, the spirits of the evening gave fresh courage. Tom, Maria, and Mr. Yates were seated at the table with the play open before them, when Mr. and Miss Crawford entered and were received with grateful joy.
Henry Crawford was soon seated with the other three at the table, while his sister made her way to Lady Bertram, by the fire.
"I congratulate your ladyship," said she, "on the play being chosen; for I am sure you must be sick of all our difficulties. The bystanders must be infinitely thankful for a decision; and I give you joy, madam, as well as everybody else who is in the same predicament," glancing at Edmund.
Edmund said nothing. After chatting a few minutes, Miss Crawford returned to the party round the table; and seemed to interest herself in their arrangements till, as if struck by a sudden recollection, she exclaimed, "My good friends, pray let me know my fate. 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 melancholy truth, that they had not yet got any Anhalt.
"I thought I should like the Count best," said Mr Rushworth, "though I do not much relish the finery I am to have."
"You chose 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 surprised," said Miss Crawford, "at this want of an Anhalt. Amelia deserves no better. Such a forward young lady may well frighten the men."
"I should take the part, if it were possible," cried Tom; "but, unluckily, the Butler and Anhalt are in together. However; I will try what can be done."
"Your brother should take the part," said Mr. Yates.
"I shall not ask him," replied Tom coldly.
Miss Crawford talked of something else, and soon afterwards rejoined the party at the fire.
"They do not want me," said she. "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? What is your advice?"
"My advice," said he calmly, "is that you change the play."
"I should have no objection," she replied; "though I should not particularly dislike the part of Amelia; but as they do not choose to hear your advice, 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 pa
use; "for he is a clergyman, you know."
"That would not tempt me," he replied, "for I should be sorry to make the character ridiculous by bad acting."
Miss Crawford was silenced. Moving her chair nearer the tea-table, she gave her attention to Mrs. Norris.
"Fanny," cried Tom Bertram, "we want your services."
Fanny was up in a moment, expecting some errand.
"Oh! we do not want to disturb you from your seat. We only want you in our play. You must be Cottager's wife."
"Me!" cried Fanny, sitting down again with a frightened look. "Indeed you must excuse me. I cannot act."
"But you must. It need not frighten you: it is a nothing of a part, not half a dozen speeches, and it will not signify if nobody hears a word you say; so you may be as creep-mouse as you like."
"Why, I have forty-two speeches," cried Mr. Rushworth.
"It is not that I am afraid of learning by heart," said Fanny, shocked to find that every eye was upon her; "but I really cannot act."
"You can act well enough for us. You have only two scenes."
"No, indeed, Mr. Bertram, you must excuse me. It would be absolutely impossible for me. I should only disappoint you."
"Phoo! 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 you will be a very proper little old woman."
"Indeed you must excuse me," cried Fanny, in agitation, and looking distressfully at Edmund, who was kindly observing her; but unwilling to exasperate his brother, gave her only an encouraging smile. Her entreaty had no effect on Tom: and it was not merely Tom. His request was now backed by Maria, and Mr. Crawford, and Mr. Yates, and Mrs. Norris addressed her in an angry whisper—"What a piece of work about nothing: I am quite ashamed of you, Fanny, to make such a difficulty of obliging your cousins in such a trifle—so kind as they are to you!"
"Do not urge her, madam," said Edmund. "You see she does not like to act."
"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—very ungrateful, indeed, considering who and what she is."
Edmund was too angry to speak; but Miss Crawford, looking with astonished eyes at Mrs. Norris, and then at Fanny, whose tears were beginning to show, immediately said, "I do not like my situation: this place is too hot for me." She moved her chair close to Fanny, saying to her, in a kind, low whisper, "Never mind, my dear Miss Price, this is a cross evening: everybody is cross and teasing, but do not let us mind them"; and continued to talk to her and endeavour to raise her spirits, in spite of being out of spirits herself. The really good feelings by which she was almost purely governed were rapidly restoring her in Edmund's favour.
Fanny did not love Miss Crawford; but she felt very grateful for her kindness; and when, after talking about her needlework, Miss Crawford proceeded to inquire if she had heard lately from her brother at sea, and said that she was curious to see him, and imagined him a very fine young man—she could not help admitting it to be very agreeable flattery, and answering with more animation than she had intended.
Miss Crawford's attention was called from Fanny by Tom Bertram's telling her, with regret, that he found it impossible to take the part of Anhalt in addition to the Butler. "But there will no difficulty in filling it," he added. "We may pick and choose. I could name six young men who are wild to be admitted into our company, and there are one or two that would not disgrace us: Tom Oliver is a clever fellow, and Charles Maddox is a gentlemanlike man, so I will ride over tomorrow, and settle with one of them."
Maria looked apprehensively at Edmund, expecting that he must oppose this enlargement of the plan: but Edmund said nothing. After a moment's thought, Miss Crawford calmly replied, "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, did not he, Henry? A quiet-looking young man. Let him be applied to, if you please, for it will be less unpleasant to me than a perfect stranger."
Tom repeated his resolution of going to Charles Maddox on the morrow; and though Julia observed sarcastically that "the Mansfield theatricals would enliven the whole neighbourhood exceedingly," Edmund still held his peace, and showed his feelings only by a determined gravity.
Miss Crawford said quietly to Fanny, "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."
CHAPTER 16