‘But indeed I would rather have nothing but tea.’

Mama rang for tea directly, and my father continued with his tale.

‘We could see her colors, and it looked for a moment as though we might not outrun her, but then the wind filled our sails and off we sped, leaving her behind us.’

‘But how are you with us so soon?’ Mama asked.

‘I came directly from Liverpool. I had an opportunity of sailing in a private vessel, rather than waiting for the packet, for I saw one of my old friends in Liverpool who offered me passage on his yacht — and what a remarkable piece of good fortune it was to find you all there!’ he said again, smiling at us all.

‘It could not be too soon for me,’ said Mama, watching him with love. He looked around. ‘How glad I am to find you all here, for I have come among you unexpectedly, and much sooner than looked for. And how lucky to find you here, too, Rushworth, ’ he said, for he did not forget Maria’s fiancé.

‘How do you think the young people have been amusing themselves lately, Sir Thomas?’ said Mama. ‘They have been acting. We have been all alive with acting.’

‘Indeed! and what have you been acting?’

‘Oh! They will tell you all about it.’

‘The all will soon be told,’ cried Tom hastily, and with affected unconcern; ‘but it is not worthwhile to bore my father with it now. You will hear enough of it tomorrow, sir. We have just been trying, by way of doing something, and amusing my mother, just within the last week, to get up a few scenes, a mere trifle. We have had such incessant rains almost since October began, that we have been nearly confined to the house for days together. I have hardly taken out a gun since the third. Tolerable sport the first three days, but there has been no attempting anything since.’

Tea was brought in, but afterwards, my father would not be still, and said he would just go on a tour of the house. As soon as he left the room I knew something must be done. Tom went after Yates and I imagined my father’s face when he found his own room was no longer recognizable, with an air of confusion in the furniture, the removal of the bookcase, and the door leading through to the theatre. And what a theatre! Not the discreet affair I had hoped to encourage, but, under Tom’s fresh orders, an extravagant construction of timber, with stage and wings and scenery, complete with festooned curtains in yards of green baize. It was not long before my father, Tom and Yates returned to the drawing-room. My father’s good breeding prevented him from saying anything very much, though I could tell he was put out. Yates, entirely misjudging my father’s silence, would not let the matter go, however, and rattled on about the play in a most ill-conceived manner. As he spelt out the history of the affair, I felt my father’s eyes on me, as if to say, ‘On your good sense, Edmund, I depended; what have you been about?’

I felt anew all the impropriety of having spent his money and used his house in such a way in his absence.

The conversation turned to the Crawfords and Tom pronounced Henry to be a most pleasant, gentlemanlike man, with Mary being a sweet, pretty, elegant, lively girl.

‘I do not say he is not gentlemanlike, considering,’ burst out Rushworth, surprising us all; ‘but you should tell your father he is not above five feet eight, or he will be expecting a well-looking man. If I must say what I think, in my opinion it is very disagreeable to be always rehearsing. It is having too much of a good thing. I am not so fond of acting as I was at first. I think we are a great deal better employed, sitting comfortably here among ourselves, and doing nothing.’

It seemed he had noticed Maria and Crawford’s behavior after all, though why he had not said something at the time I could not imagine.

‘I am happy to find our sentiments on this subject so much the same,’ said my father. After which, mercifully, the evening came to an end.

I was glad to return to my room, my mind in a whirl with the events of the day. Mary — what did her looks, her smiles, mean, as she spoke to me of love and marriage?

My father — what must he think of me for using his house so ill in his absence?

I could not sleep — I still cannot. First thing in the morning I must go to my father and explain the whole, for until I have apologized I will not be easy.


Friday 14 October

I am relieved that it is over, and that I have told my father how sorry I am for letting things get so out of hand. He was forbearing and shook hands with me, and I thought how lucky I was to have such a father. He gave instructions for Christopher Jackson to dismantle the theatre this morning, and he dismissed the scene painter. When the latter had gone we discovered how careless he had been, for he had spilt quantities of paint and had spoilt the floor. My father looked grave, but said only that he would see to its restoration, and that, all in all, he was lucky it was no worse.

This afternoon proved happier than the morning. Having seen his steward and his bailiff, and having walked in the gardens and nearest plantations, my father called me to him and congratulated me on what I had done. ‘It has all been well cared for. I could not have wished the estate in better hands,’ he said.

Rushworth returned to Sotherton first thing, leaving Maria restless, and at last the house is beginning to return to normal.


Wednesday 19 October

The Crawfords were once more with us today, and I could not help thinking how different our meeting was from the last one. Maria blanched when Crawford announced his intention of leaving the neighborhood, but I thought it no bad thing as, perhaps, he and Maria had become rather too friendly of late.


Thursday 20 October

Yates left this morning. My father walked him to the door and wished him a pleasant journey. I believe he was glad to see him go, for Yates is just the trifling, silly sort of fellow my father does not like. Indeed, I believe Julia is the only one of our party who will miss him, for she spent a great deal of time with him when he was here; perhaps more than was wise, considering that my father would never welcome him as a suitor. But she is young, and she will soon forget him. My aunt soon followed Yates out of the door, carrying a parcel.

‘I will not inconvenience you by making you dispose of the green baize curtains,’ she said to my father. ‘I will dispose of them somehow; indeed I believe I could use a pair of green baize curtains in my own home.’


Friday 21 October

The house seemed quiet today, for with Yates and Crawford gone, and the Grants excluded — my father not wishing to meet new people just at the moment — we were reduced only to ourselves. I did not regret Yates, but I regretted the Grants, and with them the Crawfords. I said as much to Fanny as we went outside for our stargazing.

‘The Grants have a claim. They seem to belong to us; they seem to be part of ourselves. I am afraid they may feel themselves neglected. But the truth is, that my father hardly knows them. If he knew them better, he would value their society as it deserves; for they are in fact exactly the sort of people he would like. We are sometimes a little in want of animation among ourselves.’

‘It does not appear to me that we are more serious than we used to be — I mean before my uncle went abroad. As well as I can recollect, it was always much the same.’

‘I believe you are right, Fanny. The novelty was in our being lively. Yet, how strong the impression that only a few weeks will give! I have been feeling as if we had never lived so before.’

‘Do you not think the house is better for being quieter?’ asked Fanny. I brought my thoughts back from their pleasant paths.

‘It is certainly a relief to have Yates and Rushworth gone. Miss Crawford we must always miss. She has been so kind to you, Fanny, that it grieves me to be without her company, but I am sure my father will want more society once he has accustomed himself to being at home.’

Fanny looked dismayed, and I asked her if she were warm enough, for the night was cold, and once I was assured she was comfortable we turned our attention to the night sky. The peace and tranquility of it were balm to my spirit, and Fanny’s spirit blossomed, too. Together we traced the constellations and did not leave off until a cold wind sprang up and drove us indoors. Once back in my room, my thoughts returned again to Mary. When I think of her, and all the light and liveliness she has brought me, I feel admiration swelling up inside me, for she has shown me a side of life I never knew existed.

I am serious, too serious, I know it. My responsibilities have made me that way. But when I listen to her... watch her... talk to her... my responsibilities melt away and I feel young, as I ought to.


Monday 24 October

I happened to go past the Parsonage today and encountered Miss Crawford and Mrs. Grant just setting out for a walk. I begged leave to accompany them and before long the three of us were walking along together.

‘What a pity the play came to nothing, after you had all worked so hard on it,’ said Mrs. Grant.

‘We must not be surprised that Sir Thomas wanted his house to himself,’ said Miss Crawford. ‘It was not to be supposed that he would welcome intrusion after his return from such a long absence.’

‘No, indeed. But it is a pity, all the same. I found myself enjoying it and I was looking forward to playing the role of Cottager’s Wife. She was a woman of good sense if not many lines.’ She turned to me. ‘And was your father pleased to be home? It must be a very big change to him, after his year in the Indies.’

‘Yes, indeed, but he is very glad to be back with us, particularly as his business was successfully concluded, for he missed Mansfield and his family.’

‘He found you all in health and looks, which was a blessing, ’ said Miss Crawford.

‘Yes. He commented particularly on Fanny’s improved appearance. He was very glad to find her looking so well.’

‘She is at an age when improvements are generally to be found. I hope she did not mind him telling her so, for she seems almost as fearful of notice and praise as other women are of neglect.’

I smiled at this, for it was true, and when I spoke to Fanny later, I noticed that she blushed again when I referred to my father’s remarks.

‘You must really begin to harden yourself to the idea of being worth looking at. You must try not to mind growing up into a pretty woman,’ I told her.

She looked at the floor in confusion, for she seems to have no idea of it, and yet Fanny is one of the prettiest young women of my acquaintance. Were it not for Miss Crawford, indeed, I believe she would be the prettiest.


Tuesday 25 October

We dined at Sotherton today, and a dull time we had of it. Rushworth talked of his dogs and his sport, Maria seemed out of sorts, and spoke barely two words to anyone. She took no notice of Rushworth and I wondered again if she should be marrying him.

I cannot make her out. Sometimes she seems pleased with him, or to miss him, but sometimes she seems as though she wishes herself far removed from him.

My aunt and Mrs. Rushworth were the only people who seemed to enjoy the evening, and I was glad when it was over.


Wednesday 26 October

I could contain myself no longer. I spoke to my father about Maria’s engagement this morning, telling him of my concerns, but he reassured me by saying he had already spoken to her about it.

‘She assures me that she has no desire of breaking the engagement, that she has the highest esteem for Mr. Rushworth’s character and disposition, and she has no doubt of her happiness with him,’ he said.

I looked my doubts.

‘Love is not the only reason for marriage, Edmund,’ he said to me seriously, ‘in fact it is sometimes better if a woman is not blinded by love for then she goes into the marriage with a clear mind, and has no unpleasant surprises. Rushworth will never be a leading character, but he has no vices. Besides, a young woman who does not marry for love is in general more attached to her own home, and Mansfield Park being such an easy distance from Sotherton, it means only that we will see more of Maria here than we would otherwise.’

I was not comforted by this interview as much as I had expected to be, but if my father is satisfied that Maria will be happy, and if she herself is still in favor of the match, then I believe the marriage will go ahead.