曼斯菲尔德庄园 Chapter 2

CHAPTER II 

The little girl performed her long journey in safety; and at Northampton was met by Mrs. Norris, who thus regaled in the credit of being foremost to welcome her, and in the importance of leading her in to the others, and recommending her to their kindness. 

Fanny Price was at this time just ten years old, and though there might not be much in her first appearance to captivate, there was, at least, nothing to disgust her relations. She was small of her age, with no glow of complexion, nor any other striking beauty; exceedingly timid and shy, and shrinking from notice; but her air, though awkward, was not vulgar, her voice was sweet, and when she spoke her countenance was pretty. Sir Thomas and Lady Bertram received her very kindly; and Sir Thomas, seeing how much she needed encouragement, tried to be all that was conciliating: but he had to work against a most untoward gravity of deportment; and Lady Bertram, without taking half so much trouble, or speaking one word where he spoke ten, by the mere aid of a good-humoured smile, became immediately the less awful character of the two. 

The young people were all at home, and sustained their share in the introduction very well, with much good humour, and no embarrassment, at least on the part of the sons, who, at seventeen and sixteen, and tall of their age, had all the grandeur of men in the eyes of their little cousin. The two girls were more at a loss from being younger and in greater awe of their father, who addressed them on the occasion with rather an injudicious particularity. But they were too much used to company and praise to have anything like natural shyness; and their confidence increasing from their cousin's total want of it, they were soon able to take a full survey of her face and her frock in easy indifference. 

They were a remarkably fine family, the sons very well-looking, the daughters decidedly handsome, and all of them well-grown and forward of their age, which produced as striking a difference between the cousins in person, as education had given to their address; and no one would have supposed the girls so nearly of an age as they really were. There were in fact but two years between the youngest and Fanny. Julia Bertram was only twelve, and Maria but a year older. The little visitor meanwhile was as unhappy as possible. Afraid of everybody, ashamed of herself, and longing for the home she had left, she knew not how to look up, and could scarcely speak to be heard, or without crying. Mrs. Norris had been talking to her the whole way from Northampton of her wonderful good fortune, and the extraordinary degree of gratitude and good behaviour which it ought to produce, and her consciousness of misery was therefore increased by the idea of its being a wicked thing for her not to be happy. The fatigue, too, of so long a journey, became soon no trifling evil. In vain were the well-meant condescensions of Sir Thomas, and all the officious prognostications of Mrs. Norris that she would be a good girl; in vain did Lady Bertram smile and make her sit on the sofa with herself and pug, and vain was even the sight of a gooseberry tart towards giving her comfort; she could scarcely swallow two mouthfuls before tears interrupted her, and sleep seeming to be her likeliest friend, she was taken to finish her sorrows in bed. 

"This is not a very promising beginning," said Mrs. Norris, when Fanny had left the room. "After all that I said to her as we came along, I thought she would have behaved better; I told her how much might depend upon her acquitting herself well at first. I wish there may not be a little sulkiness of temper--her poor mother had a good deal; but we must make allowances for such a child--and I do not know that her being sorry to leave her home is really against her, for, with all its faults, it _was_ her home, and she cannot as yet understand how much she has changed for the better; but then there is moderation in all things." 

It required a longer time, however, than Mrs. Norris was inclined to allow, to reconcile Fanny to the novelty of Mansfield Park, and the separation from everybody she had been used to. Her feelings were very acute, and too little understood to be properly attended to. Nobody meant to be unkind, but nobody put themselves out of their way to secure her comfort. 

The holiday allowed to the Miss Bertrams the next day, on purpose to afford leisure for getting acquainted with, and entertaining their young cousin, produced little union. They could not but hold her cheap on finding that she had but two sashes, and had never learned French; and when they perceived her to be little struck with the duet they were so good as to play, they could do no more than make her a generous present of some of their least valued toys, and leave her to herself, while they adjourned to whatever might be the favourite holiday sport of the moment, making artificial flowers or wasting gold paper. 

Fanny, whether near or from her cousins, whether in the schoolroom, the drawing-room, or the shrubbery, was equally forlorn, finding something to fear in every person and place. She was disheartened by Lady Bertram's silence, awed by Sir Thomas's grave looks, and quite overcome by Mrs. Norris's admonitions. Her elder cousins mortified her by reflections on her size, and abashed her by noticing her shyness: Miss Lee wondered at her ignorance, and the maid-servants sneered at her clothes; and when to these sorrows was added the idea of the brothers and sisters among whom she had always been important as playfellow, instructress, and nurse, the despondence that sunk her little heart was severe. 

The grandeur of the house astonished, but could not console her. The rooms were too large for her to move in with ease: whatever she touched she expected to injure, and she crept about in constant terror of something or other; often retreating towards her own chamber to cry; and the little girl who was spoken of in the drawing-room when she left it at night as seeming so desirably sensible of her peculiar good fortune, ended every day's sorrows by sobbing herself to sleep. A week had passed in this way, and no suspicion of it conveyed by her quiet passive manner, when she was found one morning by her cousin Edmund, the youngest of the sons, sitting crying on the attic stairs. 

"My dear little cousin," said he, with all the gentleness of an excellent nature, "what can be the matter?" And sitting down by her, he was at great pains to overcome her shame in being so surprised, and persuade her to speak openly. "Was she ill? or was anybody angry with her? or had she quarrelled with Maria and Julia? or was she puzzled about anything in her lesson that he could explain? Did she, in short, want anything he could possibly get her, or do for her? For a long while no answer could be obtained beyond a "no, no--not at all--no, thank you"; but he still persevered; and no sooner had he begun to revert to her own home, than her increased sobs explained to him where the grievance lay. He tried to console her. 

"You are sorry to leave Mama, my dear little Fanny," said he, "which shows you to be a very good girl; but you must remember that you are with relations and friends, who all love you, and wish to make you happy. Let us walk out in the park, and you shall tell me all about your brothers and sisters." 

On pursuing the subject, he found that, dear as all these brothers and sisters generally were, there was one among them who ran more in her thoughts than the rest. It was William whom she talked of most, and wanted most to see. William, the eldest, a year older than herself, her constant companion and friend; her advocate with her mother (of whom he was the darling) in every distress. "William did not like she should come away; he had told her he should miss her very much indeed." "But William will write to you, I dare say." "Yes, he had promised he would, but he had told _her_ to write first." "And when shall you do it?" She hung her head and answered hesitatingly, "she did not know; she had not any paper." 

"If that be all your difficulty, I will furnish you with paper and every other material, and you may write your letter whenever you choose. Would it make you happy to write to William?" 

"Yes, very." 

"Then let it be done now. Come with me into the breakfast-room, we shall find everything there, and be sure of having the room to ourselves." 

"But, cousin, will it go to the post?" 

"Yes, depend upon me it shall: it shall go with the other letters; and, as your uncle will frank it, it will cost William nothing." 

"My uncle!" repeated Fanny, with a frightened look. 

"Yes, when you have written the letter, I will take it to my father to frank." 

Fanny thought it a bold measure, but offered no further resistance; and they went together into the breakfast-room, where Edmund prepared her paper, and ruled her lines with all the goodwill that her brother could himself have felt, and probably with somewhat more exactness. He continued with her the whole time of her writing, to assist her with his penknife or his orthography, as either were wanted; and added to these attentions, which she felt very much, a kindness to her brother which delighted her beyond all the rest. He wrote with his own hand his love to his cousin William, and sent him half a guinea under the seal. Fanny's feelings on the occasion were such as she believed herself incapable of expressing; but her countenance and a few artless words fully conveyed all their gratitude and delight, and her cousin began to find her an interesting object. He talked to her more, and, from all that she said, was convinced of her having an affectionate heart, and a strong desire of doing right; and he could perceive her to be farther entitled to attention by great sensibility of her situation, and great timidity. He had never knowingly given her pain, but he now felt that she required more positive kindness; and with that view endeavoured, in the first place, to lessen her fears of them all, and gave her especially a great deal of good advice as to playing with Maria and Julia, and being as merry as possible. 

From this day Fanny grew more comfortable. She felt that she had a friend, and the kindness of her cousin Edmund gave her better spirits with everybody else. The place became less strange, and the people less formidable; and if there were some amongst them whom she could not cease to fear, she began at least to know their ways, and to catch the best manner of conforming to them. The little rusticities and awkwardnesses which had at first made grievous inroads on the tranquillity of all, and not least of herself, necessarily wore away, and she was no longer materially afraid to appear before her uncle, nor did her aunt Norris's voice make her start very much. To her cousins she became occasionally an acceptable companion. Though unworthy, from inferiority of age and strength, to be their constant associate, their pleasures and schemes were sometimes of a nature to make a third very useful, especially when that third was of an obliging, yielding temper; and they could not but own, when their aunt inquired into her faults, or their brother Edmund urged her claims to their kindness, that "Fanny was good-natured enough." 

Edmund was uniformly kind himself; and she had nothing worse to endure on the part of Tom than that sort of merriment which a young man of seventeen will always think fair with a child of ten. He was just entering into life, full of spirits, and with all the liberal dispositions of an eldest son, who feels born only for expense and enjoyment. His kindness to his little cousin was consistent with his situation and rights: he made her some very pretty presents, and laughed at her. 

As her appearance and spirits improved, Sir Thomas and Mrs. Norris thought with greater satisfaction of their benevolent plan; and it was pretty soon decided between them that, though far from clever, she showed a tractable disposition, and seemed likely to give them little trouble. A mean opinion of her abilities was not confined to _them_. Fanny could read, work, and write, but she had been taught nothing more; and as her cousins found her ignorant of many things with which they had been long familiar, they thought her prodigiously stupid, and for the first two or three weeks were continually bringing some fresh report of it into the drawing-room. "Dear mama, only think, my cousin cannot put the map of Europe together-- or my cousin cannot tell the principal rivers in Russia-- or, she never heard of Asia Minor--or she does not know the difference between water-colours and crayons!-- How strange!--Did you ever hear anything so stupid?" 

"My dear," their considerate aunt would reply, "it is very bad, but you must not expect everybody to be as forward and quick at learning as yourself." 

"But, aunt, she is really so very ignorant!--Do you know, we asked her last night which way she would go to get to Ireland; and she said, she should cross to the Isle of Wight. She thinks of nothing but the Isle of Wight, and she calls it _the_ _Island_, as if there were no other island in the world. I am sure I should have been ashamed of myself, if I had not known better long before I was so old as she is. I cannot remember the time when I did not know a great deal that she has not the least notion of yet. How long ago it is, aunt, since we used to repeat the chronological order of the kings of England, with the dates of their accession, and most of the principal events of their reigns!" 

"Yes," added the other; "and of the Roman emperors as low as Severus; besides a great deal of the heathen mythology, and all the metals, semi-metals, planets, and distinguished philosophers." 

"Very true indeed, my dears, but you are blessed with wonderful memories, and your poor cousin has probably none at all. There is a vast deal of difference in memories, as well as in everything else, and therefore you must make allowance for your cousin, and pity her deficiency. And remember that, if you are ever so forward and clever yourselves, you should always be modest; for, much as you know already, there is a great deal more for you to learn." 

"Yes, I know there is, till I am seventeen. But I must tell you another thing of Fanny, so odd and so stupid. Do you know, she says she does not want to learn either music or drawing." 

"To be sure, my dear, that is very stupid indeed, and shows a great want of genius and emulation. But, all things considered, I do not know whether it is not as well that it should be so, for, though you know (owing to me) your papa and mama are so good as to bring her up with you, it is not at all necessary that she should be as accomplished as you are;--on the contrary, it is much more desirable that there should be a difference." 

Such were the counsels by which Mrs. Norris assisted to form her nieces' minds; and it is not very wonderful that, with all their promising talents and early information, they should be entirely deficient in the less common acquirements of self-knowledge, generosity and humility. In everything but disposition they were admirably taught. Sir Thomas did not know what was wanting, because, though a truly anxious father, he was not outwardly affectionate, and the reserve of his manner repressed all the flow of their spirits before him. 

To the education of her daughters Lady Bertram paid not the smallest attention. She had not time for such cares. She was a woman who spent her days in sitting, nicely dressed, on a sofa, doing some long piece of needlework, of little use and no beauty, thinking more of her pug than her children, but very indulgent to the latter when it did not put herself to inconvenience, guided in everything important by Sir Thomas, and in smaller concerns by her sister. Had she possessed greater leisure for the service of her girls, she would probably have supposed it unnecessary, for they were under the care of a governess, with proper masters, and could want nothing more. As for Fanny's being stupid at learning, "she could only say it was very unlucky, but some people _were_ stupid, and Fanny must take more pains: she did not know what else was to be done; and, except her being so dull, she must add she saw no harm in the poor little thing, and always found her very handy and quick in carrying messages, and fetching, what she wanted." 

Fanny, with all her faults of ignorance and timidity, was fixed at Mansfield Park, and learning to transfer in its favour much of her attachment to her former home, grew up there not unhappily among her cousins. There was no positive ill-nature in Maria or Julia; and though Fanny was often mortified by their treatment of her, she thought too lowly of her own claims to feel injured by it. 

From about the time of her entering the family, Lady Bertram, in consequence of a little ill-health, and a great deal of indolence, gave up the house in town, which she had been used to occupy every spring, and remained wholly in the country, leaving Sir Thomas to attend his duty in Parliament, with whatever increase or diminution of comfort might arise from her absence. In the country, therefore, the Miss Bertrams continued to exercise their memories, practise their duets, and grow tall and womanly: and their father saw them becoming in person, manner, and accomplishments, everything that could satisfy his anxiety. His eldest son was careless and extravagant, and had already given him much uneasiness; but his other children promised him nothing but good. His daughters, he felt, while they retained the name of Bertram, must be giving it new grace, and in quitting it, he trusted, would extend its respectable alliances; and the character of Edmund, his strong good sense and uprightness of mind, bid most fairly for utility, honour, and happiness to himself and all his connexions. He was to be a clergyman. 

Amid the cares and the complacency which his own children suggested, Sir Thomas did not forget to do what he could for the children of Mrs. Price: he assisted her liberally in the education and disposal of her sons as they became old enough for a determinate pursuit; and Fanny, though almost totally separated from her family, was sensible of the truest satisfaction in hearing of any kindness towards them, or of anything at all promising in their situation or conduct. Once, and once only, in the course of many years, had she the happiness of being with William. Of the rest she saw nothing: nobody seemed to think of her ever going amongst them again, even for a visit, nobody at home seemed to want her; but William determining, soon after her removal, to be a sailor, was invited to spend a week with his sister in Northamptonshire before he went to sea. Their eager affection in meeting, their exquisite delight in being together, their hours of happy mirth, and moments of serious conference, may be imagined; as well as the sanguine views and spirits of the boy even to the last, and the misery of the girl when he left her. Luckily the visit happened in the Christmas holidays, when she could directly look for comfort to her cousin Edmund; and he told her such charming things of what William was to do, and be hereafter, in consequence of his profession, as made her gradually admit that the separation might have some use. Edmund's friendship never failed her: his leaving Eton for Oxford made no change in his kind dispositions, and only afforded more frequent opportunities of proving them. Without any display of doing more than the rest, or any fear of doing too much, he was always true to her interests, and considerate of her feelings, trying to make her good qualities understood, and to conquer the diffidence which prevented their being more apparent; giving her advice, consolation, and encouragement. 

Kept back as she was by everybody else, his single support could not bring her forward; but his attentions were otherwise of the highest importance in assisting the improvement of her mind, and extending its pleasures. He knew her to be clever, to have a quick apprehension as well as good sense, and a fondness for reading, which, properly directed, must be an education in itself. Miss Lee taught her French, and heard her read the daily portion of history; but he recommended the books which charmed her leisure hours, he encouraged her taste, and corrected her judgment: he made reading useful by talking to her of what she read, and heightened its attraction by judicious praise. In return for such services she loved him better than anybody in the world except William: her heart was divided between the two.

第一卷 第二章

小姑娘一路平安地完成了长途旅行，到了北安普郭受到诺里斯太太的迎接。这位太太觉得自己既有最先来欢迎她的功劳，又有领着她去见众人，让众人关照她的脸面，心里不禁乐滋滋的。

范妮·普莱斯这时才刚刚十岁，初来乍到虽然看不出多少媚人之处，但至少没有什么地方令亲戚们生厌。她人比实际年龄长得小了些，脸上没有光彩，也没有其他引人注目的丽质；极其胆怯羞涩，不愿引人注意；不过，她的仪态虽说有些笨拙，却并不粗俗，声音还挺动听，一说起话来，小脸还挺好看。托马斯爵士夫妇非常热情地接待了她。托马斯爵士见她需要鼓励，便尽量和和气气的，不过他生就一副不苟方笑的样子，要做到这一点并不容易——而伯特伦夫人用不着费他那一半的力气，用不着说他十分之一的话，只要和颜悦色地笑一笑，便马上能让那孩子觉得她没有托马斯爵士那么可畏。

几个孩子都在家，见面的时候始终表现得十分得体，一个个高高兴兴，毫不拘谨，至少两个男孩是这样，他们一个十七，一个十六，个子比一般同龄的人要高，在小表妹的眼里，都俨然已是大人了。两个姑娘由于年纪小，加上当时父亲对她们太过于挑剔，心里难免有些畏怯，因而不像两个哥哥那样泰然自若。不过，她们常和客人应酬，也听惯了表扬，已不可能再有那种天生的羞怯。眼见表妹毫无自信，她们反倒越来越有信心，很快就能从容地，若无其事地把她的面庞和上衣仔细打量了一番。

这是令人极其欣羡的一家人，两个儿子英俊，两个女儿也十分漂亮，四个人个个发育良好，比实际年龄要早熟一些。如果说所受教育使他们与表妹在谈吐上形成了显著差别的话，以上特征则使他们与表妹在外观上形成了显著差别。谁也猜想不到，表姐妹之间年龄相距如此之近。实际上，二表姐比范妮只不过大两岁，朱莉娅·伯特伦才十二岁，玛丽亚仅仅年长一岁。小客人这时候要多难受有多难受。她人人都怕，自惭形秽，怀念自己刚刚离开的家，她不敢抬头看人，不敢大声说话，一说话就要流眼泪。从北安普郭家到曼斯菲尔德的路上，诺里斯太太一直在开导她，说她真是鸿运高照，她应该万分感激，好好表现才是。于是，那孩子便觉得自己不快活乃是以怨报德的行径，不由得心里越发悲伤。漫长旅途的劳顿也很快成了非同小可的弊端。托马斯爵士屈尊隆贵地好心关怀她，无济于事；诺里斯太太苦心孤诣地一再预言她会做个乖孩子，也无济于事；伯特伦夫人笑容可掬，让她跟自己和哈巴狗一起坐在沙发上，还是无济于事；就连看到草莓馅饼，也仍然没能让她开心。她还没吃两口，就泪汪汪地再也吃不下去了，这时睡眠似乎成了她最需要的朋友，于是她给送到床上去排解忧伤。

“一开始就这样，可不是个好苗头啊，”范妮走出屋之后，诺里斯太太说道。“我一路上跟她说了那么多，满以为她会表现得好一些。我跟她说过，一开始就表现好有多重要。我但愿她不要有小脾气——她那可怜的妈妈脾气可不小啊。不过，我们要体谅这样的孩子——依我看，这孩子因为离开家而伤心也没有什么不好的，她的家虽然不怎么样，但总还是她的家啊，她现在还闹不清楚她的境况比在家时好了多少。不过，以后一切会有所好转的。”

然而，范妮适应曼斯菲尔德庄园的新奇环境，适应与所有亲友的分离，用的时候比诺里斯太太预想的要长。她的情绪太低沉了，别人无法理解，因而也难以好生关照。谁也不想亏待她，可是谁也不特意去安慰她。

第二天，伯特伦家给两位小姐放了假，好给她们闲暇跟小表妹相熟，陪她玩耍，可结果并不怎么融洽。两人发现她只有两条彩带，而且从来没有学过法语，不禁有些瞧不起她。她们把拿手的二重奏表演给她听，见她没有什么反应，便只好把自己最不想要的玩具慨然送给了她，由她自己玩去，而她们却去玩当时最时兴的假日游戏；做假花，或者说糟蹋金纸。范妮不管是在表姐身旁还是不在表姐身旁，不管是在课堂、客厅还是在灌木林，都同样孤苦伶仃，见到什么人、什么地方，都觉得有点惧怕。伯特伦夫人的沉默不语使她气馁，托马斯爵士的正颜厉色使她敬畏，诺里斯太太的谆谆告诫使她惶恐。两个表姐言论她的身材使她觉得羞愧，说她羞羞答答使她为之窘迫。李小姐奇怪她怎么什么都不知道，女仆讥笑她衣服寒酸。面对着这些伤心事，再联想到以前和兄弟妹妹们在一起的时候，她作为玩伴、老师和保姆，总是被大家所看重，她那小小的心灵便越发感到沮丧。房屋的富丽堂皇使她为之惊愕，但却不能给她带来安慰。一个个房间都太大，她待在里面有些紧张，每碰到一样东西，都觉得会碰坏似的，走动起来蹑手蹑脚，总是生怕出点会什么事，常常回到自己房里去哭泣。这小姑娘夜晚离开客厅时，大家都说她好像正如大家希望的那样，认识到自己交了好运岂料她是啜泣着进入梦乡，以此来结束自己一天的悲哀。一个星期就这样过去了，从她那文静随顺的仪态中，谁也看不出她在伤心。然而，有一天早晨，她的二表哥埃德蒙发现她坐在阁楼的楼梯上哭泣。

“亲爱的小表妹”，他出于善良的天性，温存备至地说，“你怎么啦？说着在她身边坐下，煞费苦心地安慰她，让她不要因为被人发现哭鼻子而感到难为情，还劝她痛痛快快地把心里话都说出来。“你是否生病了？有人对你发火了吗？跟玛丽亚，朱莉娅吵嘴了吗？功课中有没有什么搞不懂，我可以为你解释的？总而言之，你是否需要什么东西我可以帮你弄来，是否有什么事我可以帮你办？”问了许久，得到的答复只是：“没，没——绝对没有——没，谢谢你。“可是表哥依然问个不停，他刚一提到她原先的家，表妹越发泣不成声了，于是他明白了她伤心的缘由，便昼安慰她。

“亲爱的小范妮，你离开妈妈感到难过，”他说道，“这说明你是个好孩子。不过，你要记住，你和亲戚朋友们在一起，他们都爱你，都想使你快活。我们到庭园里散散步吧，把你兄弟妹妹们的情况讲给我听听。”

经过追问，他发现表妹虽说跟她所有的兄弟妹妹都很亲密，但其中有一个最让她思念。她谈得最多、最想见到的是威廉。威廉是家中最大的孩子，比她大一岁，是她形影不离的伙伴和朋友。他还是妈妈的宠儿，她每逢闯了什么祸，他总是护着她。“威廉不愿让我离开家——他跟我说他真得会非常想我。”“不过，我想威廉会给你写信的。”“是的，他答应过给我写信，不过他叫我先写。”“那你什么时候写呢？”表妹低下头来，迟迟疑疑地说：“我也不知道。我没有信纸。”

“如果你就是为这犯难，我来给你提供纸什么的好啦，你想什么时候写就什么时候写吧。给威廉写信能使你快乐吗？”

“是的，非常快乐。”

“那就说写就写吧。跟我到早餐厅去，那里笔墨纸张什么都有，而且肯定不会有什么人。”

“不过，表哥，能送到邮局吗？”

“是的，肯定能，和别的信一起送到。你姨父盖上免费邮递的戳记，威廉就不用再交费了。”

“我姨父！”范妮满面惶恐地重复了一声。

“是呀，你把信写好了，我拿到我父亲那里盖免费戳。”范妮觉得这样做有点冒昧，不过并没有表示反对。于是，两人来到了早餐室，埃德蒙给她备好了纸，打上了横格，那副热心肠并不亚于她哥哥，而那一丝不苟的劲头或许还能胜过她哥哥。表妹写信的时候，他一直守在旁边，要削笔时就帮她削笔，遇到不会拼写的字就教她如何拼写。这些关照已经让表妹颇为感动了，而他对她哥哥的一番好意，使她越发高兴得不得了。他亲笔附言向威廉表弟问好，并随信寄给他半个几尼。范妮当时心情激动得无以言表。不过，她的神情和几句质朴无华的言语充分表达了她的喜幸和感激之情，表哥从而看出她是一个讨人喜欢的姑娘。表哥跟她又谈了谈，从她的话里可以断定，她有一颗温柔亲切的心，想要表现得体的强烈愿望。他发觉她对自己的处境非常敏感，总是非常羞怯，因而更应得到大家的关照。他从来不曾有意地惹她痛苦过，但他现在意识到她需要的是更多的正爱爱护，因此便首先设法减少她对众从的惧怕，特别是不厌其烦地劝她跟玛丽亚和朱莉娅一起玩，尽可能地快活起来。

从这天起，范妮就感到比较自在了。她觉得自己有了一个朋友，表哥埃德蒙对她那么关心，她跟别人在一起时心情也好起来了。这地方不再那么陌生了，这里的人们也不再那么可怕了。即便有些人还没法让她不害怕，她至少开始了解他们的脾性，知道如何顺应他们。她起初惹得众人忐忑不安、特别是惹得自己忐忑不安的那些小小的无知、笨拙之处，都自然而然地消失了，她已不再非常初见二姨父，听到大姨妈的声音也不再胆战心惊。两个表姐有时也愿意和她一起玩了。虽然由于年幼体弱的缘故，她还不能有跟她们形影相伴，但她们玩的娱乐游戏有时必须有个第三者参加，尤其需要一个和和气气、百依百顺的第三者。当大姨妈查问她有什么缺点，或二哥埃德蒙要她们好好照顾她的时候，她们不得不承认：“范妮倒是个好性子。”

埃德蒙总是待她很好，汤姆也没给她气受，大不了拿她逗逗趣儿，而一个十七岁青年对一个十岁孩子做这样的事，总觉得不为过的。他刚刚踏入社会，生气勃勃，具有长子常有的那种洒脱大度，以为自己生来就是为了花钱和享受的。他对小表妹的关切倒也符合他的身份和权利，一边给她送些漂亮的小礼物，一边又取笑她。

随着范妮情绪好转，眉开颜展，托马斯爵士和诺里斯太太对自己的慈善计划越发感到得意。两人很快得出一致的看法：这孩子虽然谈不上聪明，但是性情温顺，看来不会给他们增添多少麻烦。而觉得她天资愚钝的还不只是他们俩。范妮能读书，做活，写字，但别的事就没有教给她。两个表姐发现，有许多东西她们早就熟悉了，范妮却一无所知，觉得她真是愚不可及，头两三个星期，她们不停地把这方面的新发现带到客厅里去汇报。“亲爱的妈妈，你想想看，表妹连欧洲地图都拼不到一起——她说不出来俄国有哪些主要河流——她从没听说过小亚细亚——她分不清蜡笔画和水彩画！多奇怪呀！你听说过有这么蠢的吗？”

“亲爱的，”能体谅人的大姨妈说，“这是很糟糕的，不过你们不能指望人人都像你们那样早懂事，那样聪明呀。”

“可是，姨妈，她真是什么都不懂呀！你知道吗？昨天晚上我们问她，她要是去爱尔兰，愿意走哪条路。她说，她渡海到怀特岛。她心里只有一个怀特岛，把它称做‘岛子’，好像世界上再没有别的岛子似的。我敢说，我远远没有她这么大的时候就比她知道得多，不然我会觉得害臊。我不记得从什么时候起，她现在还一无所知的东西，我已经知道许许多多了。姨妈，我们按照先后次序背诵英国国王的名字，他们登基的日期，以及他们在位期间发生的主要事件，那是多久以前的事情啊！”