The card tables were soon placed, and Sir Thomas and his lady, and Dr and Mrs Grant sat down to Casino. Mrs Norris called for music, and Mary was prevailed upon by Mr Bertram to sit down at the piano-forte. After listening for a few minutes, Mrs Norris said loudly, "If Miss Crawford had had the advantage of a proper master she might almost have played as well as Fanny, do you not agree, Edmund?"

"You are too kind, ma’am," said Miss Price, colouring most becomingly. Mr Norris said nothing, and Mary looked up to see how warmly he assented to his lady’s praise; but neither at that moment nor at any other time during the evening could she perceive any visible symptom of love; and from the whole of his behaviour to Miss Price she derived only the conviction that he was an arrogant, weak young man, driven by motives of selfishness and worldly ambition into a marriage without affection. Miss Price herself was more of a puzzle. The good-natured Mrs Grant had extolled her beauty so highly, that Mary had the pleasure of being disappointed. But it was not merely Miss Price’s looks that attracted Mary’s notice. With an uncommon quickness in understanding the tempers of those she had to deal with, and no natural timidity to hinder her, Mary rarely had any great difficulty in making out the characters of the people she encountered, but Miss Price, at first, was in every view unaccountable. That a young woman possessed of so large a fortune should have consented to an engagement without further proof of attachment than Mary was able to discern in Mr Norris, was beyond her comprehension. Mary loved to laugh, and she fancied she might find much in the situation to amuse her in the weeks to come, but to her reason, her judgment, it was inexplicable. Further observation of Miss Price in the evening circle shewed her to be vain, insincere, and possessed of a quite excessive degree of self-consequence, despite her studied appearance of modest self-denial. Mary could only conclude that so far, at least, the foremost position in the family which the supposed engagement afforded her, had been reason enough to assent to it. But despite the long-standing nature of the connection, and the apparently unanimous wishes of the two families, Mary did not give much for Mr Norris’s chances if a more prepossessing rival were to step in before the articles were signed.

The other young women of the family were more easily accounted for. Julia Bertram spent the evening with her mother on the sopha, engaged in her needlework, but from one or two remarks Mary heard her make, and from the little shelf of books at her side, she judged the youngest Miss Bertram to have both a tender disposition, and a fondness for reading. Her sister Maria seemed to be a pleasant, accomplished girl, but one whose natural sweetness of temper was not equal to the severe trial of holding but a second place in everything to Miss Price. Despite her beauty and acquirements, Miss Bertram’s fortune was so markedly inferior, and her footing in the family so subordinate, as to have pressed very hard upon the patience of a saint, much less the feelings of a pretty young woman of twenty. Mary wondered at Sir Thomas, whose conduct seemed in so many other respects to be most just and reasonable. Could he be blind to a state of affairs that was plain to Mary after little more than an evening’s acquaintance with the family? Could he not see what the consequences of such a misplaced distinction might prove to be? Could he, in fact, have so little insight into the disposition of his niece — a young woman who had been brought up under his eye since she was twelve years old?

Chapter 2

After breakfast the following morning Henry proposed that Mary accompany him on a survey of the park. The enthusiasm produced by their walk of the previous evening was excited still more by the loveliness of the day; it was really April; but it was May in its mild air, brisk soft wind, and bright sun, occasionally clouded for a minute. Everything looked beautiful under the influence of such a sky, even a bowling-green and a formal parterre laid out with too much regularity for his improver’s eye.

"Well my dear Mary," said Henry, drawing her arm within his, as they walked along the sweep, "how do you like Mansfield?"

"Very well — very much. Our sister is all kindness, and I am sure our three months here will be marked by many such evenings at the Park."

"And Mr Bertram?" he asked.

Mary shook her head with a smile. "I fear our sister will be disappointed if she persists in her expectations of him, even supposing him capable of attaching himself to a woman of no fortune, and no connections. I concede that Mr Bertram has easy manners and excellent spirits, as well as a long list of intimate friends that he seems to add to on the strength of the most meagre acquaintance, but these are not sufficient qualities to attract me, notwithstanding the reversion of Mansfield Park, and the baronetcy he will one day assume."

Henry laughed. "You are far too old for your twenty years, my dear Mary. I will leave it to you to break the news to our poor sister! And the young ladies?"

Mary decided to keep her more perplexing observations to herself for the present, stating merely that Miss Bertram seemed to be a very pleasing young woman.

"Quite so, but I do not know what to make of Miss Julia. I do not understand her. Why did she draw back and look so grave at me? She hardly said a word."

Mary laughed. "Henry! Miss Julia is not out. No wonder you could not get her to speak. She should not be noticed for another six months at least — or until Miss Price marries."

"Oh, Mary, these outs and not outs are beyond me! But you have now introduced a subject in which I must confess the most profound interest.What think you, my dear Mary, of the said Miss Price? The sweet and amiable and modest Miss Price? Did you not see her last night? Writing that note for Lady Bertram? Attending with such ineffable gentleness and patience, her colour beautifully heightened as she leant over it, her hair arranged neatly, and one little curl falling forward as she wrote — "

"I am sure that Miss Price’s ringlets are quite as artfully contrived as her deportment," interrupted Mary with a laugh. "I can respect her for doing her hair well, but cannot feel a more tender sentiment. Nor, I am sure, can you. I know you are merely teasing."

"No, no, I am quite determined, Mary. My mind is entirely made up. My plan is to make Fanny Price in love with me."

Mary shook her head with a smile. "My dear brother, I will not believe this of you. Even were she as perfectly faultless as she appears — even were she the angel Mrs Norris claims her to be — we are told that Miss Price is engaged. Her choice is made."

"All I can say to that is that if Miss Price has given Mr Norris her heart as well as her hand, then she will be safe from any attack from me. But Mary," he said, stopping short, and smiling in her face, "I know what a thinking brain you have, and I know full well that you saw exactly what I saw — you cannot dissemble with me. Miss Price does not care three straws for Mr Norris, nor he for her; that is your opinion. And I do not blame her — what woman would care for such an undersized, solemn, gloomy fellow! Did you not hear him discussing his wretched dog last night? I never heard so much fuss made over such a trifle, or so many long words expended over such a small puppy — if it was necessary to say anything at all on such a desperate dull subject. In his place I would simply have said "I have given the thing a basket in the stables", but clearly such plain and manly dealing is beyond the wit of our Mr Norris. What was it he said? "I at length determined on a method of proceeding which would obviate the risk of unnecessary expense." Honestly, Mary, what is one to do with such an insufferable fellow?"

Mary laughed and replied, "Perhaps he will improve upon acquaintance?"

"I rather doubt it," he said, with sarcastic dryness, "as I am sure his lovely Fanny is only too aware."

"Oh! Henry, how shall I manage you? But I know you are not serious."

"Forty thousand pounds is a serious enough matter, would you not say?"

It was lightly said, and lightly taken, and without attempting any farther remonstrance, Mary left Miss Price to her fate, and they continued their walk. Henry led the way; every vista was pointed out, every prospect noted, until an opening in the trees finally afforded them a view of the house. They stopped some minutes to look and admire, until they noticed Miss Price and Mr Norris on horseback, riding side by side, followed by the Mansfield coachman, making directly towards the spot where they stood. Mary turned to her brother with a smile. "It seems you will have an early opportunity to begin your wicked project. I shall observe how you succeed, though if I am to judge by her behaviour last evening, I do not think you should expect very much encouragement. If there is not hope in her disdain, there is hope in nothing else."

"I fear we interrupt you in the exercise of your profession, Crawford," said Mr Norris, as soon as he was within hearing. "I suspected we might encounter you on our ride; the weather is exactly suited for your purpose. Well, how do you go on? Have you been able to form an opinion?"

Henry protested that a survey such as he felt necessary to be done was not the work of a moment, but, if he would, Mr Norris could be of inestimable assistance to him in pointing out the various divisions of the park.

Before Mr Norris could answer, Miss Price ventured to say, "Edmund, I am sure my uncle’s steward would be happy to offer his services to Mr Crawford by way of a guide."