Chapter: 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."

 Tom returns home, which most people are happy about since he's a life-of-the-party kind of guy. Mary is upset, though, because she discovers that she really likes Edmund better and she can't quite figure out why. Love is illogical that way. Henry leaves Mansfield and goes back to his own house, Everingham. It's now September. The Bertram girls are bummed that Henry is gone. Julia is mopey and Maria is increasingly annoyed with Mr. Rushworth. Fanny has come to the conclusion that Henry is terrible and a flirt. She doesn't like him at all and is glad he's gone. Fanny tries to hint to Edmund that Henry is way to close to Maria, but Edmund doesn't pick up on it. Fanny decides to drop it, but she has doubts that Edmund is really right. All the young people gather at Mansfield for an evening of dancing and music. While Fanny is sitting a dance out, she's forced to listen to Mrs. Norris and Mrs. Rushworth gossip about how awesome Maria's future marriage will be and how they think that Henry really loves Julia. The women then start to comment on Edmund and Mary, and Fanny quietly flips out. Tom comes over and half-heartedly offers to dance with Fanny, but she declines. He's glad and says he finds dancing lame and thinks that all this love and romance and couple stuff is stupid. We learn that a Mr. Yates, one of Tom's friends, is at this impromptu dance party. Tom starts to chat politics with Dr. Grant when Mrs. Norris interrupts and asks why Tom isn't dancing. She then suggests that Tom play some cards with her and Mrs. Rushworth. Tom quickly asks Fanny to dance and bolts. He gripes about how annoying Mrs. Norris is.

