Fanny gave a quick negative, and tried to hide her interest in the subject by an eager attention to her brother, who was driving as hard a bargain and imposing on her as much as he could; but Crawford pursued with “No, no, you must not part with the queen. You have bought her too dearly, and your brother does not offer half her value. No, no, sir, hands off—hands off. Your sister does not part with the queen. She is quite determined. The game will be yours,” turning to her again—”it will certainly be yours.”
“And Fanny had much rather it were William’s,” said Edmund, smiling at her. “Poor Fanny! not allowed to cheat herself as she wishes!”
“Mr. Bertram,” said Miss Crawford, a few minutes afterwards, “you know Henry to be such a capital improver, that you cannot possibly engage in anything of the sort at Thornton Lacey, without accepting his help. Only think how useful he was at Sotherton! Only think what grand things were produced there by our all going with him one hot day in August to drive about the grounds, and see how genius take fire. There we went, and there we came home again; and what was done there is not to be told!”
Fanny’s eyes were turned on Crawford for a moment with an expression more than grave, even reproachful; but on catching his were instantly withdrawn. With something of consciousness he shook his head at his sister, and laughingly replied, “I cannot say there was much done at Sotherton; but it was a hot day, and we were all walking after each other and bewildered.” As soon as a general buzz gave him shelter, he added, in a low voice directed solely at Fanny, “I should be sorry to have my powers of planning judged of by the day at Sotherton. I see things very differently now. Do not think of me as I appeared then.”
Sotherton was a word to catch Mrs. Norris, and being just then in the happy leisure which followed securing the odd trick by Sir Thomas’s capital play and her own, against Dr. and Mrs. Grant’s great hands, she called out in high good-humor, “Sotherton! Yes, that is a place indeed, and we had a charming day there. William, you are quite out of luck; but the next time you come I hope dear Mr. and Mrs. Rushworth will be at home, and I am sure I can answer for your being kindly received by both. Your cousins are not of a sort to forget their relations, and Mr. Rushworth is a most amiable man. They are at Brighton now, you know—in one of the best houses there, as Mr. Rushworth’s fine fortune gives them a right to be. I do not exactly know the distance, but when you get back to Portsmouth, if it is not very far off, you ought to go over and pay your respects to them; and I could send a little parcel by you that I want to get conveyed to your cousins.”
“I should be very happy, aunt—but Brighton is almost by Beachey Head; and if I could get so far, I could not expect to be welcome in such a smart place as that—poor scrubby midshipman as I am.”
Mrs. Norris was beginning an eager assurance of the affability he might depend on, when she was stopped by Sir Thomas’s saying with authority, “I do not advise your going to Brighton, William, as I trust you may soon have more convenient opportunities of meeting, but my daughters would be happy to see their cousins anywhere; and you will find Mr. Rushworth most sincerely disposed to regard all the connections of our family as his own.”
“I would rather find him private secretary to the first Lord than anything else,” was William’s only answer, in an under voice, not meant to reach far, and the subject dropped.
As yet Sir Thomas had seen nothing to remark in Mr. Crawford’s behavior; but when the Whist table broke up at the end of the second rubber, and leaving Dr. Grant and Mrs. Norris to dispute over their last play, he became a looker-on at the other, he found his niece the object of attentions, or rather of professions of a somewhat pointed character.