 Crawford
went into Norfolk before or after the 14th, was certainly no concern of her's,
though, every thing considered, she thought he would go without delay. That Miss
Crawford should endeavour to secure a meeting between him and Mrs. Rushworth,
was all in her worst line of conduct, and grossly unkind and ill-judged; but she
hoped he would not be actuated by any such degrading curiosity. He acknowledged
no such inducement, and his sister ought to have given him credit for better
feelings than her own.
    She was yet more impatient for another letter from town after receiving
this, than she had been before; and for a few days, was so unsettled by it
altogether, by what had come, and what might come, that her usual readings and
conversation with Susan were much suspended. She could not command her attention
as she wished. If Mr. Crawford remembered her message to her cousin, she thought
it very likely, most likely, that he would write to her at all events; it would
be most consistent with his usual kindness, and till she got rid of this idea,
till it gradually wore off, by no letters appearing in the course of three or
four days more, she was in a most restless, anxious state.
    At length, a something like composure succeeded. Suspense must be submitted
to, and must not be allowed to wear her out, and make her useless. Time did
something, her own exertions something more, and she resumed her attentions to
Susan, and again awakened the same interest in them.
    Susan was growing very fond of her, and though without any of the early
delight in books, which had been so strong in Fanny, with a disposition much
less inclined to sedentary pursuits, or to information for information's sake,
she had so strong a desire of not appearing ignorant, as with a good clear
understanding, made her a most attentive, profitable, thankful pupil. Fanny was
her oracle. Fanny's explanations and remarks were a most important addition to
every essay, or every chapter of history. What Fanny told her of former times,
dwelt more on her mind than the pages of Goldsmith; and she paid her sister the
compliment of preferring her style to that of any printed author. The early
habit of reading was wanting.
    Their conversations, however, were not always on subjects so high as history
or morals. Others had their hour; and of lesser matters, none returned so often,
or remained so long between them, as Mansfield Park, a description of the
people, the manners
