‘Excellent creature！I will not tease you.Everything shall take its course.But dear Fanny，you must allow that you were not so absolutely unprepared to have the question asked as your cousin fancies.It is not possible，but that you must have had some thoughts on the subject，some surmises as to what might be.You must have seen that he was trying to please you，by every attention in his power.Was not he devoted to you at the ball？And then before the ball，the necklace！Oh you received it just as it was meant.You were as conscious as heart could desire.I remember it perfectly.’
‘Do you mean then that your brother knew of the necklace beforehand？Oh Miss Crawford，that was not fair.’
‘Knew of it！It was his own doing entirely，his own thought.I am ashamed to say，that it had never entered my head；but I was delighted to act on his proposal，for both your sakes.’
‘I will not say，’replied Fanny，‘that I was not half afraid at the time，of its being so；for there was something in your look that frightened me-but not at first-I was as unsuspicious of it at first-indeed，indeed I was.It is as true as that I sit here.And had I had an idea of it，nothing should have induced me to accept the necklace.As to your brother's behaviour，certainly I was sensible of a particularity，I had been sensible of it some little time，perhaps two or three weeks，but then I considered it as meaning nothing，I put it down as simply being his way，and was as far from supposing as from wishing him to have any serious thoughts of me.I had not，Miss Crawford，been an inattentive observer of what was passing between him and some part of this family in the summer and autumn.I was quiet，but I was not blind.I could not but see that Mr Crawford allowed himself in gallantries which did mean nothing.’
‘Ah I cannot deny it.He has now and then been a sad flirt，and cared very little for the havoc he might be making in young ladies'affections.I have often scolded him for it，but it is his only fault；and there is this to be said，that very few young ladies have any affections worth caring for.And then，Fanny，the glory of fixing one who has been shot at by so many，of having it in one's power to pay off the debts of one's sex！Oh，I am sure it is not in woman's nature to refuse such a triumph.’
Fanny shook her head.‘I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman's feelings；and there may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge of.’
‘I do not defend him.I leave him entirely to your mercy；and when he has got you at Everingham，I do not care how much you lecture him.But this I will say，that his fault，the liking to make girls a little in love with him，is not half so dangerous to a wife's happiness，as a tendency to fall in love himself，which he has never been addicted to.And I do seriously and firmly believe that he is attached to you in a way that he never was to any woman before；that he loves you with all his heart，and will love you as nearly forever as possible.If any man ever loved a woman forever，I think Henry will do as much for you.’
Fanny could not avoid a faint smile，but had nothing to say.
‘I cannot imagine Henry ever to have been happier，’continued Mary，presently，‘than when he had succeeded in getting your brother's commission.’
She had made a sure push at Fanny's feelings here.
‘Oh yes.How very，very kind of him！’
‘I know he must have exerted himself very much，for I know the parties he had to move.The Admiral hates trouble，and scorns asking favours；and there are so many young men's claims to be attended to in the same way，that a friendship and energy，not very determined，is easily put by.What a happy creature William must be！I wish we could see him.’
Poor Fanny's mind was thrown into the most distressing of all its varieties.The recollection of what had been done for William was always the most powerful disturber of every decision against Mr Crawford；and she sat thinking deeply of it till Mary，who had been first watching her complacently，and then musing on something else，suddenly called her attention，by saying，‘I should like to sit talking with you here all day，but we must not forget the ladies below，and so goodbye，my dear，my amiable，my excellent Fanny，for though we shall nominally part in the breakfast parlour，I must take leave of you here.And I do take leave，longing for a happy reunion，and trusting，that when we meet again，it will be under circumstances which may open our hearts to each other without any remnant or shadow of reserve.’
A very，very kind embrace，and some agitation of manner，accompanied these words.
‘I shall see your cousin in town soon；he talks of being there tolerably soon；and Sir Thomas，I dare say，in the course of the spring；and your eldest cousin and the Rushworths and Julia I am sure of meeting again and again，and all but you.I have two favours to ask，Fanny：one is your correspondence.You must write to me.And the other，that you will often call on Mrs Grant and make her amends for my being gone.’
The first，at least，of these favours Fanny would rather not have been asked；but it was impossible for her to refuse the correspondence；it was impossible for her even not to accede to it more readily than her own judgment authorised.There was no resisting so much apparent affection.Her disposition was peculiarly calculated to value a fond treatment，and from having hitherto known so little of it，she was the more overcome by Miss Crawford's.Besides，there was gratitude towards her，for having made their tête--tête so much less painful than her fears had predicted.
It was over，and she had escaped without reproaches and without detection.Her secret was still her own；and while that was the case，she thought she could resign herself to almost everything.
