But the concerns of the theater were suspended only for an hour or two; there was still a great deal to be settled; and the spirits of evening giving fresh courage, Tom, Maria, and Mr. Yates, soon after their being reassembled in the drawing-room, seated themselves in committee at a separate table, with the play open before them, and were just getting deep in the subject when a most welcome interruption was given by the entrance of Mr. and Miss Crawford, who, late and dark and dirty as it was, could not help coming, and were received with the most grateful joy.
“Well, how do you go on?” and “What have you settled?” and “Oh! we can do nothing without you,” followed the first salutations; and Henry Crawford was soon seated with the other three at the table, while his sister made her way to Lady Bertram, and with pleasant attention was complimenting her. “I must really congratulate your ladyship,” said she, “on the play being chosen; for though you have borne it with exemplary patience, I am sure you must be sick of all our noise and difficulties. The actors may be glad, but the by-standers must be infinitely more thankful for a decision; and I do sincerely give you joy, madam, as well as Mrs. Norris, and everybody else who is in the same predicament,” glancing half fearfully, half slily, beyond Fanny to Edmund.
She was very civilly answered by Lady Bertram, but Edmund said nothing. His being only a bystander was not disclaimed. After continuing in chat with the party round the fire a few minutes, Miss Crawford returned to the party round the table; and standing by them, seemed to interest herself in their arrangements till, as if struck by a sudden recollection, she exclaimed, “My good friends, you are most composedly at work upon these cottages and ale-houses, inside and out—but pray let me know my fate in the meanwhile. 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 same melancholy truth—that they had not yet got any Anhalt. “Mr. Rushworth was to be Count Cassel, but no one had yet undertaken Anhalt.”
“I had my choice of the parts,” said Mr. Rushworth; “but I thought I should like the Count best—though I do not much relish the finery I am to have.”
“You chose very 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 at all surprised,” said Miss Crawford, after a short pause, “at this want of an Anhalt. Amelia deserves no better. Such a forward young lady may well frighten the men.”
“I should be but too happy in taking the part if it were possible,” cried Tom, “but unluckily the Butler and Anhalt are in together. I will not entirely give it up, however—I will try what can be done—I will look it over again.”
“Your brother should take the part,” said Mr. Yates, in a low voice. “Do not you think he would?”
“I shall not ask him,” replied Tom, in a cold, determined manner.
Miss Crawford talked of something else, and soon afterwards rejoined the party at the fire. “They do not want me at all,” said she, seating herself. I only puzzle them, and oblige them to make civil speeches. 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? Is it practicable for any of the others to double it? What is your advice?”
“My advice,” said he, calmly, “is that you change the play.”
“I should have no objection,” she replied; “for though I should not particularly dislike the part of Amelia if well supported—that is, if everything went well—I shall be sorry to be an inconvenience—but as they do not choose to hear your advice at that table.”—(looking round—”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 pause—”for he is a clergyman you know.”