Chapter Text
December 6, 1808
My dear Fanny,
Your brother is returning to you at last! As I write the Antwerp is coming up the Channel and we shall soon reach Spithead. When you receive this I shall be at Portsmouth and shall see our father and mother and all our dear siblings again. But dearest Fanny, I must see you too. I am sure to get a leave of absence, would it not be possible to visit you? Do write to me and I will come whenever it pleases you.
I had another letter as well as your last when last ashore, from my former lieutenant, James Linton. He has been made Commander since I saw him last, and hopes to see me now as the Deliverance has sailed homeward ahead of the Antwerp. I know no one who deserves it more, he is as fine a fellow as I ever met and a better friend. But Fanny, I begin to think I shall never be anything but a midshipman. Everybody gets made but me. Seeing you will be as great a comfort to me now as any promotion, however. My dearest sister, if it pleases our uncle I shall surely see you within the week.
Your affectionate brother,
W. Price
Such was the letter that William Price sent into Portsmouth with the first boat that left the Antwerp at anchor in Spithead; but when he arrived at Mansfield – for he was invited there by return of post – how much greater was his joy even than had been expected.
He had the unparalleled pleasure of being received by only Fanny at his arrival and what a fine young lady had she become! The first minutes of exquisite feeling had no interruption and no witnesses, and when the first tumult of joy no longer left him speechless he was capable of rendering his sister speechless all over again with his first communication.
“My dearest Fanny!” he burst forth. “You will not believe it! I am to be a lieutenant. My friend Captain Linton has spoken for me. As soon as he is to have a ship I am to be his lieutenant!”
It was impossible that Fanny’s spirits should be as high as his, but her felicity might well have surpassed his. She listened to him with tears of joy in her eyes and could not express her pride in his accomplishments nor her gratitude for this long-awaited promotion in terms warm enough to suit her feelings.
William was jubilant. To Captain Marshall he had been a favourite in the way only a steady, dependable midshipman could be, but to Captain Linton he was a friend. Now at last he would be in the way to make his fortune. Never in his life had he felt such triumphant satisfaction and to be able to see with his own eyes just how much happiness his advancement brought his dearest sister, made the moment as close to perfection as he had ever experienced.
His disposition was not one of self-absorption, however, and very soon he quite voluntarily turned from the facts of his own life to Fanny’s. For fine houses he had all the indifference a young man of nineteen not brought up to them could possess, but in Mansfield’s inhabitants he found much to interest him. First and foremost must be Fanny. She was the first object of his love, a love which his high spirits, and bold temper, made it as natural for him to express as to feel. But he was ready to think of every member of that home as she directed, or differing only by a less scrupulous opinion, and more noisy abuse of their aunt Norris.
There was but one, during his all to pleasant visit, who the two siblings regarded with a material difference of opinion, albeit unknown to both. William was always pleased to have the Mansfield company enlivened by Mr Crawford, and when he was to go to Portsmouth for a week, to return a lieutenant, he was very happy to be offered to ride with him, and even happier to be asked to dine with his uncle the admiral. When he returned however, the happiest of lieutenants, because the latest made, William perceived a decided change in Fanny. After spending so many cheerful hours in that gentleman’s company both at Mansfield and at the parsonage, it was evident his presence now disturbed her. Moreover, it seemed to him that Mrs Norris was more ill-humoured and Sir Thomas more formidable than ever.
The cause of all this was soon revealed and William was no more surprised than grieved by it. He lamented that his sister’s feelings should be so cold towards a man whom he considered an excellent fellow, even more so for loving his sister; but he was of an age to be all for love, and therefore quite unable to blame her. At any rate, his sister’s distress concerned him far more than Mr Crawford’s disappointment, and after her first fretful confession of what had passed, William took care not to pain her by the slightest allusion.
Fanny was grateful, and required very little more to restore the chief of her happiness than his presence. She wished to know every particular; he must describe his kind friend Linton anew, the sloop that that friend had applied for, and his uniform most of all. He would have been delighted to shew his uniform too, had not cruel custom prohibited its appearance except on duty. So the uniform remained at Portsmouth and it pained William to think that his sister would likely not see him in it for another twelvemonth at least, when his sister came to him with tears of happiness brimming in her eyes, to tell him that their uncle had made her the offer of coming back to Portsmouth with him, to visit their parents.
It had been Sir Thomas’ proposal and Fanny could hardly express her delight at the prospect of visiting the parents, and brothers, and sisters, from whom she had been divided almost half her life; of returning for a couple of months to the scenes of her infancy, with William for the protector and companion of her journey, and the certainty of continuing to see William to the last hour of his remaining on land. Her happiness was of a quiet, deep, heart-swelling sort; and though never a great talker, she was always more inclined to silence when feeling most strongly. But by William she was sure to be understood, no matter how little she was able to put into words. She imagined herself returned to the home she had once been torn from, every pain that had come from that separation healed by the reunion, and surrounded by those who loved her and whom she might love in turn without fear or restraint, knowing herself to be their equal. In such a home she would learn to think of Edmund going to London to pay his addresses to Miss Crawford without any improper regret, and at such a distance from Mansfield she would be at peace from all mention of that lady’s brother.
This last and not insignificant comfort was peculiarly dissonant with the real reason Sir Thomas had for arranging this visit to her home; for his prime motive in sending her away had very little to do with the propriety of her seeing her parents again, and nothing at all with any idea of making her happy. It was instead his intention to impress upon her the great disparity between Portsmouth and Mansfield Park, and for her to reconsider, with humbler feelings, the offer of the very young man she was wishing to remove from.
Had Fanny been sensible of this, she would have been cruelly mortified, but she was blissful in her ignorance, and the sole pang she felt at this most perfect of plans was the doubt of her aunt Bertram’s being comfortable without her. Indeed, it was all Sir Thomas could do to obtain her consent to let Fanny go, and then he did obtain it from submission rather than conviction of it being a good thing. For she could not at all agree with her sister’s assertion that Fanny could be very well spared and could not really be wanted, and insisted that she would miss her very much.
This sentiment, often and dolefully expressed, must endear Lady Bertram to William, but it could not make him less happy in the plan. Indeed, William was almost more joyful than his sister, gleefully disturbing her at her writing to their mother in Portsmouth to offer herself. It would be the greatest pleasure to him to have her there to the last moment before he sailed, and perhaps find her there still when he came in from his first cruise. And besides, he wanted her so very much to see the Thrush before she went out of harbour—the Thrush was certainly the finest sloop in the service and his friend was sure to get it—and there were several improvements in the dockyard, too, which he quite longed to shew her.
He did not scruple to add that her being at home for a while would be a great advantage to everybody.
“I do not know how it is,” said he; “but we seem to want some of your nice ways and orderliness at my father’s. The house is always in confusion. You will set things going in a better way, I am sure. You will tell my mother how it all ought to be, and you will be so useful to Susan, and you will teach Betsey, and make the boys love and mind you. How right and comfortable it will all be!”
Their mother’s answer arrived and though short, was so kind—a few simple lines expressed so natural and motherly a joy in the prospect of seeing her child again, as to confirm all the daughter’s views of happiness in being with her. Everything good was to be expected and it was settled by Sir Thomas that William and Fanny were to travel by post and to have an early breakfast served for them alone that they might begin their journey in good time.
Fanny was convinced there was nothing more to wish for, and save for the brief threat of Aunt Norris meaning to accompany them and the painful communication from Edmund that he hoped to write to her from London with a particularly joyful communication, there was was nothing in the world to dampen Fanny’s spirits but her earnest grief of taking leave. For though going as she did willingly and eagerly, the last evening at Mansfield Park must still be wretchedness. She clung to her aunt, because she would miss her; she kissed the hand of her uncle with struggling sobs, because she had displeased him; and as for Edmund, she could neither speak, nor look, nor think, when the last moment came with him; and it was not till it was over that she knew he was giving her the affectionate farewell of a brother.
All this passed overnight, for the journey was to begin very early in the morning; and when the small, diminished party met at breakfast, William and Fanny were talked of as already advanced one stage.