 with her uncle, was more than her nerves could bear.
She was anxious, she knew - more anxious perhaps than she ought to be - for what
was it after all whether she went or staid? - but if her uncle were to be a
great while considering and deciding, and with very grave looks, and those grave
looks directed to her, and at last decide against her, she might not be able to
appear properly submissive and indifferent. Her cause meanwhile went on well. It
began, on Lady Bertram's part, with, »I have something to tell you that will
surprize you. Mrs. Grant has asked Fanny to dinner!«
    »Well,« said Sir Thomas, as if waiting more to accomplish the surprize.
    »Edmund wants her to go. But how can I spare her?«
    »She will be late,« said Sir Thomas, taking out his watch, »but what is your
difficulty?«
    Edmund found himself obliged to speak and fill up the blanks in his mother's
story. He told the whole, and she had only to add, »So strange! for Mrs. Grant
never used to ask her.«
    »But is not it very natural,« observed Edmund, »that Mrs. Grant should wish
to procure so agreeable a visitor for her sister?«
    »Nothing can be more natural,« said Sir Thomas, after a short deliberation;
»nor, were there no sister in the case, could any thing in my opinion be more
natural. Mrs. Grant's shewing civility to Miss Price, to Lady Bertram's niece,
could never want explanation. The only surprize I can feel is that this should
be the first time of its being paid. Fanny was perfectly right in giving only a
conditional answer. She appears to feel as she ought. But as I conclude that she
must wish to go, since all young people like to be together, I can see no reason
why she should be denied the indulgence.«
    »But can I do without her, Sir Thomas?«
    »Indeed I think you may.«
    »She always makes tea, you know, when my sister is not here.«
    »Your sister perhaps may be prevailed on to spend the day with us, and I
shall certainly be at home.«
    »Very well, then, Fanny may go, Edmund.«
    The good news soon followed her. Edmund knocked at her door in his way to
his own.
    »Well, Fanny, it is all happily settled, and without the
