曼斯菲尔德庄园 Chapter 28

CHAPTER XXVIII 

Her uncle and both her aunts were in the drawing-room when Fanny went down. To the former she was an interesting object, and he saw with pleasure the general elegance of her appearance, and her being in remarkably good looks. The neatness and propriety of her dress was all that he would allow himself to commend in her presence, but upon her leaving the room again soon afterwards, he spoke of her beauty with very decided praise. 

"Yes," said Lady Bertram, "she looks very well. I sent Chapman to her." 

"Look well! Oh, yes!" cried Mrs. Norris, "she has good reason to look well with all her advantages: brought up in this family as she has been, with all the benefit of her cousins' manners before her. Only think, my dear Sir Thomas, what extraordinary advantages you and I have been the means of giving her. The very gown you have been taking notice of is your own generous present to her when dear Mrs. Rushworth married. What would she have been if we had not taken her by the hand?" 

Sir Thomas said no more; but when they sat down to table the eyes of the two young men assured him that the subject might be gently touched again, when the ladies withdrew, with more success. Fanny saw that she was approved; and the consciousness of looking well made her look still better. From a variety of causes she was happy, and she was soon made still happier; for in following her aunts out of the room, Edmund, who was holding open the door, said, as she passed him, "You must dance with me, Fanny; you must keep two dances for me; any two that you like, except the first." She had nothing more to wish for. She had hardly ever been in a state so nearly approaching high spirits in her life. Her cousins' former gaiety on the day of a ball was no longer surprising to her; she felt it to be indeed very charming, and was actually practising her steps about the drawing-room as long as she could be safe from the notice of her aunt Norris, who was entirely taken up at first in fresh arranging and injuring the noble fire which the butler had prepared. 

Half an hour followed that would have been at least languid under any other circumstances, but Fanny's happiness still prevailed. It was but to think of her conversation with Edmund, and what was the restlessness of Mrs. Norris? What were the yawns of Lady Bertram? 

The gentlemen joined them; and soon after began the sweet expectation of a carriage, when a general spirit of ease and enjoyment seemed diffused, and they all stood about and talked and laughed, and every moment had its pleasure and its hope. Fanny felt that there must be a struggle in Edmund's cheerfulness, but it was delightful to see the effort so successfully made. 

When the carriages were really heard, when the guests began really to assemble, her own gaiety of heart was much subdued: the sight of so many strangers threw her back into herself; and besides the gravity and formality of the first great circle, which the manners of neither Sir Thomas nor Lady Bertram were of a kind to do away, she found herself occasionally called on to endure something worse. She was introduced here and there by her uncle, and forced to be spoken to, and to curtsey, and speak again. This was a hard duty, and she was never summoned to it without looking at William, as he walked about at his ease in the background of the scene, and longing to be with him. 

The entrance of the Grants and Crawfords was a favourable epoch. The stiffness of the meeting soon gave way before their popular manners and more diffused intimacies: little groups were formed, and everybody grew comfortable. Fanny felt the advantage; and, drawing back from the toils of civility, would have been again most happy, could she have kept her eyes from wandering between Edmund and Mary Crawford. _She_ looked all loveliness--and what might not be the end of it? Her own musings were brought to an end on perceiving Mr. Crawford before her, and her thoughts were put into another channel by his engaging her almost instantly for the first two dances. Her happiness on this occasion was very much _a_ _la_ _mortal_, finely chequered. To be secure of a partner at first was a most essential good-- for the moment of beginning was now growing seriously near; and she so little understood her own claims as to think that if Mr. Crawford had not asked her, she must have been the last to be sought after, and should have received a partner only through a series of inquiry, and bustle, and interference, which would have been terrible; but at the same time there was a pointedness in his manner of asking her which she did not like, and she saw his eye glancing for a moment at her necklace, with a smile--she thought there was a smile--which made her blush and feel wretched. And though there was no second glance to disturb her, though his object seemed then to be only quietly agreeable, she could not get the better of her embarrassment, heightened as it was by the idea of his perceiving it, and had no composure till he turned away to some one else. Then she could gradually rise up to the genuine satisfaction of having a partner, a voluntary partner, secured against the dancing began. 

When the company were moving into the ballroom, she found herself for the first time near Miss Crawford, whose eyes and smiles were immediately and more unequivocally directed as her brother's had been, and who was beginning to speak on the subject, when Fanny, anxious to get the story over, hastened to give the explanation of the second necklace: the real chain. Miss Crawford listened; and all her intended compliments and insinuations to Fanny were forgotten: she felt only one thing; and her eyes, bright as they had been before, shewing they could yet be brighter, she exclaimed with eager pleasure, "Did he? Did Edmund? That was like himself. No other man would have thought of it. I honour him beyond expression." And she looked around as if longing to tell him so. He was not near, he was attending a party of ladies out of the room; and Mrs. Grant coming up to the two girls, and taking an arm of each, they followed with the rest. 

Fanny's heart sunk, but there was no leisure for thinking long even of Miss Crawford's feelings. They were in the ballroom, the violins were playing, and her mind was in a flutter that forbade its fixing on anything serious. She must watch the general arrangements, and see how everything was done. 

In a few minutes Sir Thomas came to her, and asked if she were engaged; and the "Yes, sir; to Mr. Crawford," was exactly what he had intended to hear. Mr. Crawford was not far off; Sir Thomas brought him to her, saying something which discovered to Fanny, that _she_ was to lead the way and open the ball; an idea that had never occurred to her before. Whenever she had thought of the minutiae of the evening, it had been as a matter of course that Edmund would begin with Miss Crawford; and the impression was so strong, that though _her_ _uncle_ spoke the contrary, she could not help an exclamation of surprise, a hint of her unfitness, an entreaty even to be excused. To be urging her opinion against Sir Thomas's was a proof of the extremity of the case; but such was her horror at the first suggestion, that she could actually look him in the face and say that she hoped it might be settled otherwise; in vain, however: Sir Thomas smiled, tried to encourage her, and then looked too serious, and said too decidedly, "It must be so, my dear," for her to hazard another word; and she found herself the next moment conducted by Mr. Crawford to the top of the room, and standing there to be joined by the rest of the dancers, couple after couple, as they were formed. 

She could hardly believe it. To be placed above so many elegant young women! The distinction was too great. It was treating her like her cousins! And her thoughts flew to those absent cousins with most unfeigned and truly tender regret, that they were not at home to take their own place in the room, and have their share of a pleasure which would have been so very delightful to them. So often as she had heard them wish for a ball at home as the greatest of all felicities! And to have them away when it was given--and for _her_ to be opening the ball-- and with Mr. Crawford too! She hoped they would not envy her that distinction _now_; but when she looked back to the state of things in the autumn, to what they had all been to each other when once dancing in that house before, the present arrangement was almost more than she could understand herself. 

The ball began. It was rather honour than happiness to Fanny, for the first dance at least: her partner was in excellent spirits, and tried to impart them to her; but she was a great deal too much frightened to have any enjoyment till she could suppose herself no longer looked at. Young, pretty, and gentle, however, she had no awkwardnesses that were not as good as graces, and there were few persons present that were not disposed to praise her. She was attractive, she was modest, she was Sir Thomas's niece, and she was soon said to be admired by Mr. Crawford. It was enough to give her general favour. Sir Thomas himself was watching her progress down the dance with much complacency; he was proud of his niece; and without attributing all her personal beauty, as Mrs. Norris seemed to do, to her transplantation to Mansfield, he was pleased with himself for having supplied everything else: education and manners she owed to him. 

Miss Crawford saw much of Sir Thomas's thoughts as he stood, and having, in spite of all his wrongs towards her, a general prevailing desire of recommending herself to him, took an opportunity of stepping aside to say something agreeable of Fanny. Her praise was warm, and he received it as she could wish, joining in it as far as discretion, and politeness, and slowness of speech would allow, and certainly appearing to greater advantage on the subject than his lady did soon afterwards, when Mary, perceiving her on a sofa very near, turned round before she began to dance, to compliment her on Miss Price's looks. 

"Yes, she does look very well," was Lady Bertram's placid reply. "Chapman helped her to dress. I sent Chapman to her." Not but that she was really pleased to have Fanny admired; but she was so much more struck with her own kindness in sending Chapman to her, that she could not get it out of her head. 

Miss Crawford knew Mrs. Norris too well to think of gratifying _her_ by commendation of Fanny; to her, it was as the occasion offered--"Ah! ma'am, how much we want dear Mrs. Rushworth and Julia to-night!" and Mrs. Norris paid her with as many smiles and courteous words as she had time for, amid so much occupation as she found for herself in making up card-tables, giving hints to Sir Thomas, and trying to move all the chaperons to a better part of the room. 

Miss Crawford blundered most towards Fanny herself in her intentions to please. She meant to be giving her little heart a happy flutter, and filling her with sensations of delightful self-consequence; and, misinterpreting Fanny's blushes, still thought she must be doing so when she went to her after the two first dances, and said, with a significant look, "Perhaps _you_ can tell me why my brother goes to town to-morrow? He says he has business there, but will not tell me what. The first time he ever denied me his confidence! But this is what we all come to. All are supplanted sooner or later. Now, I must apply to you for information. Pray, what is Henry going for?" 

Fanny protested her ignorance as steadily as her embarrassment allowed. 

"Well, then," replied Miss Crawford, laughing, "I must suppose it to be purely for the pleasure of conveying your brother, and of talking of you by the way." 

Fanny was confused, but it was the confusion of discontent; while Miss Crawford wondered she did not smile, and thought her over-anxious, or thought her odd, or thought her anything rather than insensible of pleasure in Henry's attentions. Fanny had a good deal of enjoyment in the course of the evening; but Henry's attentions had very little to do with it. She would much rather _not_ have been asked by him again so very soon, and she wished she had not been obliged to suspect that his previous inquiries of Mrs. Norris, about the supper hour, were all for the sake of securing her at that part of the evening. But it was not to be avoided: he made her feel that she was the object of all; though she could not say that it was unpleasantly done, that there was indelicacy or ostentation in his manner; and sometimes, when he talked of William, he was really not unagreeable, and shewed even a warmth of heart which did him credit. But still his attentions made no part of her satisfaction. She was happy whenever she looked at William, and saw how perfectly he was enjoying himself, in every five minutes that she could walk about with him and hear his account of his partners; she was happy in knowing herself admired; and she was happy in having the two dances with Edmund still to look forward to, during the greatest part of the evening, her hand being so eagerly sought after that her indefinite engagement with _him_ was in continual perspective. She was happy even when they did take place; but not from any flow of spirits on his side, or any such expressions of tender gallantry as had blessed the morning. His mind was fagged, and her happiness sprung from being the friend with whom it could find repose. "I am worn out with civility," said he. "I have been talking incessantly all night, and with nothing to say. But with _you_, Fanny, there may be peace. You will not want to be talked to. Let us have the luxury of silence." Fanny would hardly even speak her agreement. A weariness, arising probably, in great measure, from the same feelings which he had acknowledged in the morning, was peculiarly to be respected, and they went down their two dances together with such sober tranquillity as might satisfy any looker-on that Sir Thomas had been bringing up no wife for his younger son. The evening had afforded Edmund little pleasure. Miss Crawford had been in gay spirits when they first danced together, but it was not her gaiety that could do him good: it rather sank than raised his comfort; and afterwards, for he found himself still impelled to seek her again, she had absolutely pained him by her manner of speaking of the profession to which he was now on the point of belonging. They had talked, and they had been silent; he had reasoned, she had ridiculed; and they had parted at last with mutual vexation. Fanny, not able to refrain entirely from observing them, had seen enough to be tolerably satisfied. It was barbarous to be happy when Edmund was suffering. Yet some happiness must and would arise from the very conviction that he did suffer. 

When her two dances with him were over, her inclination and strength for more were pretty well at an end; and Sir Thomas, having seen her walk rather than dance down the shortening set, breathless, and with her hand at her side, gave his orders for her sitting down entirely. From that time Mr. Crawford sat down likewise. 

"Poor Fanny!" cried William, coming for a moment to visit her, and working away his partner's fan as if for life, "how soon she is knocked up! Why, the sport is but just begun. I hope we shall keep it up these two hours. How can you be tired so soon?" 

"So soon! my good friend," said Sir Thomas, producing his watch with all necessary caution; "it is three o'clock, and your sister is not used to these sort of hours." 

"Well, then, Fanny, you shall not get up to-morrow before I go. Sleep as long as you can, and never mind me." 

"Oh! William." 

"What! Did she think of being up before you set off?" 

"Oh! yes, sir," cried Fanny, rising eagerly from her seat to be nearer her uncle; "I must get up and breakfast with him. It will be the last time, you know; the last morning." 

"You had better not. He is to have breakfasted and be gone by half-past nine. Mr. Crawford, I think you call for him at half-past nine?" 

Fanny was too urgent, however, and had too many tears in her eyes for denial; and it ended in a gracious "Well, well!" which was permission. 

"Yes, half-past nine," said Crawford to William as the latter was leaving them, "and I shall be punctual, for there will be no kind sister to get up for _me_." And in a lower tone to Fanny, "I shall have only a desolate house to hurry from. Your brother will find my ideas of time and his own very different to-morrow." 

After a short consideration, Sir Thomas asked Crawford to join the early breakfast party in that house instead of eating alone: he should himself be of it; and the readiness with which his invitation was accepted convinced him that the suspicions whence, he must confess to himself, this very ball had in great measure sprung, were well founded. Mr. Crawford was in love with Fanny. He had a pleasing anticipation of what would be. His niece, meanwhile, did not thank him for what he had just done. She had hoped to have William all to herself the last morning. It would have been an unspeakable indulgence. But though her wishes were overthrown, there was no spirit of murmuring within her. On the contrary, she was so totally unused to have her pleasure consulted, or to have anything take place at all in the way she could desire, that she was more disposed to wonder and rejoice in having carried her point so far, than to repine at the counteraction which followed. 

Shortly afterward, Sir Thomas was again interfering a little with her inclination, by advising her to go immediately to bed. "Advise" was his word, but it was the advice of absolute power, and she had only to rise, and, with Mr. Crawford's very cordial adieus, pass quietly away; stopping at the entrance-door, like the Lady of Branxholm Hall, "one moment and no more," to view the happy scene, and take a last look at the five or six determined couple who were still hard at work; and then, creeping slowly up the principal staircase, pursued by the ceaseless country-dance, feverish with hopes and fears, soup and negus, sore-footed and fatigued, restless and agitated, yet feeling, in spite of everything, that a ball was indeed delightful. 

In thus sending her away, Sir Thomas perhaps might not be thinking merely of her health. It might occur to him that Mr. Crawford had been sitting by her long enough, or he might mean to recommend her as a wife by shewing her persuadableness.

第二卷 第十章

范妮走下楼时，见姨父和两位姨妈都在客厅里。她成了姨父关注的对象，托马斯爵士见她体态优雅，容貌出众，心里颇为高兴。当着她的面，他只能夸奖她衣着利落得体，但等她过了不久一出去，他便毫不含糊地夸奖她的美貌。

“是呀，”伯特伦夫人说，“她是很好看。是我打发查普曼太太去帮她的。”

“好看！噢，是的，”诺里斯太太嚷道。“她当然应该好看，瞧她条件有多好：这个家庭把她抚养成人，有两个表姐的言谈举止供她学习。你想一，亲爱的托马斯爵士，你和我给了她多大的好处。你刚才看到的那件长裙，就是你在亲爱的拉什沃思太太结婚时慷慨送给她的礼物。要不是我们把她要来，她会是个什么样子啊？”

托马斯爵士没再吭声。但是，等他们围着桌子坐定后，他从两个年轻人的眼神中看出，一旦女士们离席，他们可以温婉而顺利地再谈这个问题。范妮看得出自己受到众人的赏识，加之意识到自己好看，面容也就越发亮丽。她有多种原因感到高兴，而且马上会变得更加高兴。她跟随两位姨妈走出客厅，埃德蒙给她们打开了门，她从他身边走过时，对她说道：“范妮，你一定要跟我跳舞。你一定要为我保留两曲舞，除了头两曲外，哪两曲都行。”范妮心满意足，别无所求了。她长了这么大，几乎从来没有这样兴高采烈。两位表姐以往参加舞会时那样欢天喜地，她已不再感到惊奇了。她觉得这的确令人陶醉，便趁诺里斯姨妈在聚精会神调理、压低男管家生起的旺旺的炉火，因而注意不到她的时候，竟然在客厅里练起舞步来。

又过了半个小时，在别的情况下，至少会让人感到无精打采，可范妮依然兴致勃勃。她只要回味她和埃德蒙的谈话就行了。诺里斯太太坐立不安算什么呢？伯特伦夫人呵欠连连有什么关系呢？

男士们也进来了。过了不久，大家都开始盼望能听到马车声。这时，屋里似乎弥漫着一种悠闲欢快的气氛，众人四处站着，又说又笑，时时刻刻都充溢着快乐和希望。范妮觉得埃德蒙肯定有点强颜欢笑，不过见他掩饰得这么不露痕迹，倒也感到宽慰。

等真的到马车声，客人真的开始聚集的时候，她满心的欢快给压抑下来了。看到这么多陌生人，她又故态复萌了。先到的一大批人个个板着面孔，显得十分拘谨，不管托马斯爵士还是伯特伦夫人，他们的言谈举止都无助于消除这种气氛。除此之外，范妮不时还得容忍更糟糕的事情。姨父把她时而介绍给这个人，时而介绍给那个人，她不得不听人唠叨，给人屈膝行礼，还要跟人话。这是个苦差事，每次叫她履行这份职责的时候，她总要瞧一瞧在后面悠然漫步的威廉，盼着能和他在一起。

格兰特夫妇和克劳福德兄妹的到来是一个重要的转机。他们那讨人喜欢的举止，待众人又那样亲密，很快驱散了场上的拘谨气氛。大家三三两两地组合起来，个个都感到挺自在。范妮深受其惠。她从没完没了的礼仪应酬中解脱出来，若不是因为目光情不自禁地在埃德蒙和玛丽·克劳福德之间流盼，她还真会觉得万分快乐。克劳福德小姐俏丽动人极了——凭此还有什么达不到的目标呢？克劳福德先生的出现打断了她自己的思绪，他当即约她跳头两曲舞，她的心思引入了另一条轨道。这时候，她的心情可以说是有喜有忧，喜忧参半。一开始就能得到一个舞伴，这可是件大好事——因为舞会眼看就要开始，而她对自己又缺乏信心，觉得若不是克劳福德先生事先约请她，肯定会是姑娘们都被请完了也轮不到她，只有经过一连串的问讯、奔忙和他人干预才能找到个舞伴，那情景实在太可怕了。不过，克劳福德先生约她跳舞时态度有点欠含蓄，这又让她不悦。她看到他两眼含——她觉得他在笑——瞥了一下她的项链，她不禁脸红起来，感到很狼狈。虽然他没有再瞥第二眼乱她方寸，虽然他当时的用意似乎是不声不响地讨好她，但她始终打消不了局促不安的感觉，而一想到他注意到了自己的不安，心里便越发不安，直到他走开去找别人谈话，她才定下心来。这时她才逐渐感受到，在舞会开始前就得到一个舞伴，一个自愿找上门的舞伴，真令人高兴。

众人步入舞厅的时候，她第一次和克劳福德小姐相遇。她像她哥哥一样，一下子毫不含糊地把目光和笑脸投向她的项链，并对之议论了起来。范妮恨不得马上结束这个话题，便急忙说明了第二条项链——实际上足条链子的来历。克劳福德小姐仔细听着，她原先准备好的对范妮加以恭维和影射的话全都忘记了，现在心里只有一个念头。她那原来已经够明亮的眼睛变得更明亮了，便急忙乐滋滋地嚷道：“真的吗？真是埃德蒙送的吗？这像是他做的事。别人想不到这么做。我对他佩服得不得了。”她环顾四周，仿佛想把这话说给埃德蒙听。埃德蒙不在附近，他在舞厅外陪伴一群太太小姐。格兰特太太来到这两个姑娘跟前，一手拉着一个，跟着其他人一块往前走。

范妮的心直往下沉，不过她没有闲暇去琢磨克劳福德小姐的心情。她们待在舞厅里，里面拉着手提琴，她的心绪跟着颤动，难以集中在任何严肃的问题上。她必须注意总的安排，留心每件事如何进行。

了一会，托马斯爵士来到她跟前，问她是否已约好舞伴。她回答说：“约好了，姨父，跟克劳福德先生。”这正合托马斯爵士的心愿。克劳福德先生就在不远的地方，托马斯爵士把他领到她面前，交代了两句，范妮听那意思，是让她领舞。这是她从未想过的事情。在此之前，她一想到晚上的具体安排，总觉得理所当然应该由埃德蒙和克劳福德小姐领舞。这是个坚定不移的印象，虽然姨父发话要她领舞，她不禁发出惊叫，表示她不合适，甚至恳求饶了她。居然敢违抗托马斯爵士的意志，足见这事让她有多为难。不过，姨父刚提出来的时候，她感到大为骇然，直瞪瞪地盯着他的面孔，请他另做安排。然而，说也没有用。托马斯爵士笑了笑，力图鼓励她，然后板起脸来，斩钉截铁地说：“必须如此，亲爱的。”范妮没敢再吭声。转眼间，克劳福德先生把她领到舞厅上首，站在那里，等待众人结成舞伴，跟着他们起舞。

她简直不敢相信。她居然被安排在这么多漂亮小姐之上！这个荣誉太高了。这是拿她跟她的表姐们一样看待呀！于是，她的思绪飞向了两位身在外地的表姐。她们不在家中，不能占据她们在舞厅中应有的位置，不能共享会使她们十分开心的乐趣，她情真意切地为她们感到遗憾。她以前常听她们说，她们盼望能在家里举办个舞会，这将是最大的快乐！而真到开舞会的时候，她们却离家在外——偏要由她来开舞——而且还是跟克劳福德先生一起开舞！她希望她们不要嫉妒她现在的这份荣誉。不过，回想起秋季的情况，回想起有一次在这座房子里跳舞时她们彼此之间的关系，目前这种安排简直让她无法理解。

舞会开始了。对范妮来说，她感到的与其说是快乐，不如说是荣耀，至少跳第一曲舞时如此。她的舞伴兴高采烈，并且尽力感染她，可她过于恐慌，没有心思领受这番快乐，直至她料想不再有人注视她，情况才有所好转。不过，她由于年轻、漂亮、文雅，即使在局促不安的情况下，也显得颇为优雅，在场的人很少有不肯赞赏她的。她妩媚动人、举止端庄，身为托马斯爵士的外甥女，不久又听说还是克劳福德先生爱慕的对象。这一切足以使她赢得众人的欢心。托马斯爵士喜不自禁地望着她翩翩起舞。他为外甥女感到骄傲，虽说他没有像诺里斯太太那样，把她的美貌完全归功于自己把她接到曼斯菲尔德，但却为自己给她提供的一切感到欣慰：他使她受到了教育，养成了娴雅的举止。

克劳福德小姐看出了托马斯爵士的心思，尽管他让自己受了不少委屈，但她很想讨他欢喜，便找了个机会走到他跟前，将范妮美言了一番。她热烈地赞扬范妮，托马斯爵士像她希望的那样欣然接受，并在谨慎、礼貌和缓言慢语允许的范围内，跟着一起夸奖。在这个问题上，他当然比他的夫人来得热情。过了不久，玛丽看到伯特伦夫人就坐在附近的沙发上，趁跳舞还没有开始，便走了过去；向她夸奖普莱斯小姐好看，以讨她欢心。

“是的，她的确很好看，”伯特伦夫人平静地答道。“查普曼太太帮她打扮的。是我打发查普曼太太去帮她的。”她并非真为范妮受人赞扬而感到高兴，她为自己打发查普曼太太去帮助她而沾沾自喜，总是念念不忘自己的这份恩典。

克劳福德小姐非常了解诺里斯太太，因而不敢向她夸奖范妮。她见机行事，对她说：“啊！太太，今天晚上我们多么需要拉什沃思太太和朱莉娅呀！”诺里斯太太尽管给自己揽了好多差事，又是组织打牌，又是一次次提醒托马斯爵士，还要把小姐们的年长女伴领到舞厅合适的角落，但是听了克劳福德小姐的感叹之后，还能忙里偷闲，对她频频微笑，客气话说个没完。

克劳福德小姐想讨好范妮，却犯了个最大的错误。头两曲舞过后，她便向她走去，想挑逗一下她那颗小小的心灵，使之泛起一股喜不自禁的高傲之情。她看到范妮脸红了，自以为得计，带着意味深长的神情说道：“也许你可以告诉我我哥哥明天为什么要去伦敦吧。他说他去那里办点事，可是不肯告诉我究竟是什么事。他这是第一次向我保守秘密呀！不过我们人人都有这一天的。每个人迟早都要被人取代的。现在，我要向你打听消息了。请告诉我，亨利是去干什么？”

范妮感到十分尴尬，断然声明自己一无所知。

“那好吧，”克劳福德小姐大笑着说，“我想一定是为了专程送你哥哥，顺便也谈论谈论你。”

范妮变得慌乱起来，这是不满引起的慌乱。这时，克劳福德小姐只是纳闷她为什么面无笑容，以为她过于牵心，以为她性情古怪，以为她有这样那样的问题，唯独没有想到亨利的殷勤备至并没引起她的兴趣。这天晚上范妮感到了无尽的快乐，但这跟亨利的大献殷勤并没有多大关系。他请过她之后马上又请一次，她还真不喜欢他这样做。她也不想非要起这样的疑心：他先前向诺里斯太太打听晚饭的时间，也许是为了在那个时候把她抢到手。可是这又回避不了，他使她觉得她为众人所瞩目。不过，她又不能这事得令人不快，他的态度既不粗俗，又不虚夸——有时候，谈起威廉来，还真不令人讨厌，甚至表现出一副热心肠，倒也难能可贵。但是，他的百般殷勤仍然不能给她带来快乐。每逢那五分钟的间歇工夫，她可以和威廉一块漫步，听他谈论他的舞伴，两眼只要望着他，见他那样兴高采烈，她也感到高兴。她知道大家赞赏她，因而也感到高兴。她同样感到高兴的是，她还期待和埃德蒙跳那两曲舞。在舞会的大部分时间里，人人都急欲和她跳舞，埃德蒙和她预约的没定时间的那两曲舞不得不一再推迟。后来轮到他们跳的时候，她还是很高兴，但并不是因为他兴致高的缘故，也不是因为他又流露出早晨对她的温情脉脉。他的精神已经疲惫了，她感到高兴的是，他把她当做朋友，可以在她这里得到安逸。“我已经应酬得疲惫不堪了，”埃德蒙说。“我一个晚上都在不停地说话，而且是没话找话说。可是和你在一起，范妮，我就可以得到安宁。你不会要我跟你说话。让我们享受一下默默无语的乐趣。”范妮连表示同意的话都想免掉不说。埃德蒙的厌倦情绪，在很大程度上，可能是由于早晨他承认的那些想法引起的，需要引起她的特别关注。他们两人跳那两曲舞的时候，显得又持重又平静，旁观者看了，不会认为托马斯爵士收养这个姑娘是要给他二儿子做媳妇。

这个晚上没给埃德蒙带来多少快乐。克劳福德小姐和他跳头两曲舞的时候，倒是欢欢喜喜的，但是她的欢喜对他并无补益，不仅没有给他增加喜悦，反而给他增添了苦恼。后来，他又抑制不住去找她的时候，她议论起他即将从事的职业，那言辞和口气让他伤透了心。他们谈论——也沉默过——一个进行辩解——一个加以嘲讽——最后是不欢而散。范妮难免不对他们有所观察，见到的情景使她颇为满意。眼见埃德蒙痛苦的时候感到高兴，无疑是残忍的。然而，由于明知他吃了苦头，心里难免会有点高兴。

她和埃德蒙的两曲舞跳过之后，她既没心思也没气力再跳下去。托马斯爵士看到在那愈来愈短的舞队中，她垂着手，气喘吁吁，不是在跳而是在走，便命令她坐下好好休息。从这时起，克劳福德先生也坐了下来。

“可怜的范妮！”威廉本来在跟舞伴没命地跳舞，这时走过来看一看她，嚷道，“她这么快就累垮了！嗨，才刚刚跳上劲来。我希望我们能坚持不懈地跳上两个钟头。你怎么这么快就累了？”

“这么快！我的好朋友，”托马斯爵士一边说，一边小心翼翼地掏出表来，“已经三点钟了，你妹妹可不习惯熬到这么晚哪。”

“那么，范妮，明天我走之前你不要起床。你尽管睡你的，不要管我。”

“噢！威廉。”

“什么！她想在你动身前起床吗？”

“噢！是的，姨父，”范妮嚷道，急忙起身，朝姨父跟前凑近些。“我要起来跟他一起吃早饭。您知道这是最后一次，最后一个早晨。”

“你最好不要起来。他九点半吃过早饭就动身。克劳福德先生，我想你是九点半来叫他吧？”

然而范妮非要坚持，满眼都是泪水，没法不答应她，最后姨父客气地说了声“好吧，好吧”，算是允许。

“是的，九点半，”威廉就要离开的时候，克劳福德对他说，“我会准时来叫你的，因为我可没有个好妹妹替我起来。”他又压低声音对范妮说：“明天我离家时家里会一片孤寂。你哥哥明天会发现我和他的时间概念完全不同。”

托马斯爵士略经思考，提出克劳福德第二天早晨不要一个人吃早饭，过来和他们一起吃，他自己也来作陪。克劳福德爽快地答应了，这就使托马斯爵士意识到，他原的猜测是有充分依据的。他必须自我供认，他所以要举办这次舞会，在很大程度上是基于这种猜测。克劳福德先生爱上了范妮。托马斯爵士对事情的前景打着如意算盘。然而，外甥女对他刚才的安排并不领情。临到最后一个早晨了，她希望单独和威廉在一起，这个过分的要求又无法说出来。不过，尽管她的意愿被推翻了，她心里并无怨言。与此相反．她早就习以为常了，从来没有人考虑过她的乐趣，也从来没有要让什么事能遂她的愿，因此，听了这扫兴的安排之后，她并没有抱怨，而是觉得自己能坚持到这一步，真令她诧异和高兴。

过了不久，托马斯爵士又对她进行了一次小小的干涉，劝她立即去睡觉。虽然用的是一个“劝”字，但却完全是权威性的劝，她只好起身，克劳福德先生非常亲热地跟她道别之后，她悄悄地走了。到了门口又停下来，像兰克斯霍尔姆大宅的女主人①（译注：①引自英国诗人司各特的《最后一位行吟诗人之歌》。）那样，“只求再驻足片刻”，回望那快乐的场面，最后看一眼那五六对还在不辞辛苦决心跳到底的舞伴。然后，她慢吞吞地爬上主楼梯，乡村舞曲不绝于耳，希望和忧虑、汤和酒搅得她心魂摇荡，她脚痛体乏，激动不安，尽管如此，还是觉得舞会的确令人快乐。

把范妮打发走之后，托马斯爵士想到的也许还不仅仅是她的健康。他或许会觉得克劳福德先生在她身边已经坐得很久了，或者他可能是想让他看看她的温顺听话，表明她十分适合做他的妻子。