the place.
The meeting was very satisfactory on each side. Miss Crawford found a sister without preciseness or rusticity—a sister’s husband who looked the gentleman, and a house commodious and well fitted up; and Mrs Grant received in those whom she hoped to love better than ever, a young man and woman of very prepossessing appearance. Mary Crawford was remarkably pretty; Henry, though not handsome, had air and countenance; the manners of both were lively and pleasant, and Mrs Grant immediately gave them credit for everything else. She was delighted with each, but Mary was her dearest object; and having never been able to glory in beauty of her own, she thoroughly enjoyed the power of being proud of her sister’s. She had not waited her arrival to look out for a suitable match for her; she had fixed on Tom Bertram; the eldest son of a baronet was not too good for a girl of twenty thousand pounds, with all the elegance and accomplishments which Mrs Grant foresaw in her; and being a warm-hearted, unreserved woman, Mary had not been three hours in the house before she told her what she had planned.
Miss Crawford was glad to find a family of such consequence so very near them, and not at all displeased either at her sister’s early care, or the choice it had fallen on. Matrimony was her object, provided she could marry well: and having seen Mr Bertram in town, she knew that objection could no more be made to his person than to his situation in life. While she treated it as a joke, therefore, she did not forget to think of it seriously. The scheme was soon repeated to Henry.
‘And now,’ added Mrs Grant, ‘I have thought of something to make it complete. I should dearly love to settle you both in this country; and therefore, Henry, you shall marry the youngest Miss Bertram, a nice, handsome, good-humoured, accomplished girl, who will make you very happy.’
Henry bowed and thanked her.
‘My dear sister,’ said Mary, ‘if you can persuade him into anything of the sort, it will be a fresh matter of delight to me to find myself allied to anybody so clever, and I shall only regret that you have not half a dozen daughters to dispose of. If you can persuade Henry to marry, you must have the address of a Frenchwoman. All that English abilities can do has been tried already. I have three very particular friends who have been all dying for him in their turn; and the pains which they, their mothers (very clever women), as well as my dear aunt and myself, have taken to reason, coax, or trick him into marrying, is inconceivable! He is the most horrible flirt that can be imagined. If your Miss Bertrams do not like to have their hearts broke, let them avoid Henry.’
‘My dear brother, I will not believe this of you.’
‘No, I am sure you are too good. You will be kinder than Mary. You will allow for the doubts of youth and inexperience. I am of a cautious temper, and unwilling to risk my happiness in a hurry. Nobody can think more highly of the matrimonial state than myself. I consider the blessing of a wife as most justly described in those discreet lines of the poet, “Heaven’s last best gift.”’
‘There, Mrs Grant, you see how he dwells on one word; and only look at his smile. I assure you he is very detestable; the Admiral’s lessons have quite spoiled him.’
‘I pay very little regard,’ said Mrs Grant, ‘to what any young person says on the subject of marriage. If they profess a disinclination for it, I only set it down that they have not yet seen the right person.’
Dr Grant laughingly congratulated Miss Crawford on feeling no disinclination to the state herself.
‘Oh, yes! I am not at all ashamed of it. I would have everybody marry if they can do it properly: I do not like to have people throw themselves away: but everybody should marry as soon as they can do it to advantage.’
The young people were pleased with each other from the first. On each side there was much to attract, and their acquaintance soon promised as early an intimacy as good manners would warrant. Miss Crawford’s beauty did her no disservice with the Miss Bertrams. They were too handsome themselves to dislike any woman for being so too, and were almost as much charmed as their brothers with her lively dark eye, clear brown complexion, and general prettiness. Had she been tall, full formed, and fair, it might have been more of a trial: but as it was, there could be no comparison; and she was most allowably a sweet pretty girl, while they were the finest young women in the country.
Her brother was not handsome; no, when they first saw him he was absolutely plain, black and plain; but still he was the gentleman, with a pleasing address. The second meeting proved him not so very plain; he was plain, to be sure, but then he had so much countenance, and his teeth were so good, and he was so well made, that one soon forgot he was plain; and after a third interview, after dining in company with him at the Parsonage, he was no longer allowed to be called so by anybody. He was, in fact, the most agreeable young man the sisters had ever known, and they were equally delighted with him. Miss Bertram’s engagement made him in equity the property of Julia, of which Julia was fully aware; and before he had been at Mansfield a week, she was quite ready to be fallen in love with.
Maria’s notions on the subject were more confused and indistinct. She did not want to see or understand. ‘There could be no harm in her liking an agreeable man—everybody knew her situation—Mr Crawford must take care of himself.’ Mr Crawford did not mean to be in any danger! the Miss Bertrams were worth pleasing, and were ready to be pleased; and he began with no object but of making them like him. He did not want them to die of love; but with sense and temper which ought to have made him judge and feel better, he allowed himself great latitude on such points.
‘I like your Miss Bertrams exceedingly, sister,’ said he, as he returned from attending them to their carriage after the said dinner visit; ‘they are very elegant, agreeable girls.’
‘So they are, indeed, and I am delighted to hear you say it. But you like Julia best.’
‘Oh, yes! I like Julia best.’
‘But do you really? for Miss Bertram is in general thought the handsomest.’
‘So I should suppose. She has the advantage in every feature, and I prefer her countenance; but I like Julia best; Miss Bertram is certainly the handsomest, and I have found her the most agreeable, but I shall always like Julia best, because you order me.’
‘I shall not talk to you, Henry, but I know you will like her best at last.’
‘Do not I tell you that I like her best at first?’
‘And besides, Miss Bertram is engaged. Remember that, my dear brother. Her choice is made.’
‘Yes, and I like her the better for it. An engaged woman is always more agreeable than a disengaged. She is satisfied with herself. Her cares are over, and she feels that she may exert all her powers of pleasing without suspicion. All is safe with a lady engaged; no harm can be done.’
‘Why, as to that, Mr Rushworth is a very good sort of young man, and it is a great match for her.’
‘But Miss Bertram does not care three straws for him; that is your opinion of your intimate friend. I do not subscribe to it. I am sure Miss Bertram is very much attached to Mr Rushworth. I could see it in her eyes, when he was mentioned. I think too well of Miss Bertram to suppose she would ever give her hand without her heart.’
‘Mary, how shall we manage him?’
‘We must leave him to himself, I believe. Talking does no good. He will be taken in at last.’
‘But I would not have him taken in; I would not have him duped; I would have it all fair and honourable.’
‘Oh dear! let him stand his chance and be taken in. It will do just as well. Everybody is taken in at some period or other.’
‘Not always in marriage, dear Mary.’
‘In marriage especially. With all due respect to such of the present company as chance to be married, my dear Mrs Grant, there is not one in