exactly as he wanted help. It was imputed to very reasonable weariness, and
she was thanked and pitied; but she deserved their pity, more than she hoped
they would ever surmise. At last the scene was over, and Fanny forced herself to
add her praise to the compliments each was giving the other; and when again
alone and able to recall the whole, she was inclined to believe their
performance would, indeed, have such nature and feeling in it, as must ensure
their credit, and make it a very suffering exhibition to herself. Whatever might
be its effect, however, she must stand the brunt of it again that very day.
    The first regular rehearsal of the three first acts was certainly to take
place in the evening; Mrs. Grant and the Crawfords were engaged to return for
that purpose as soon as they could after dinner; and every one concerned was
looking forward with eagerness. There seemed a general diffusion of cheerfulness
on the occasion; Tom was enjoying such an advance towards the end, Edmund was in
spirits from the morning's rehearsal, and little vexations seemed every where
smoothed away. All were alert and impatient; the ladies moved soon, the
gentlemen soon followed them, and with the exception of Lady Bertram, Mrs.
Norris, and Julia, every body was in the theatre at an early hour, and having
lighted it up as well as its unfinished state admitted, were waiting only the
arrival of Mrs. Grant and the Crawfords to begin.
    They did not wait long for the Crawfords, but there was no Mrs. Grant. She
could not come. Dr. Grant, professing an indisposition, for which he had little
credit with his fair sister-in-law, could not spare his wife.
    »Dr. Grant is ill,« said she, with mock solemnity. »He has been ill ever
since; he did not eat any of the pheasant to day. He fancied it tough - sent
away his plate - and has been suffering ever since.«
    Here was disappointment! Mrs. Grant's non-attendance was sad indeed. Her
pleasant manners and cheerful conformity made her always valuable amongst them -
but now she was absolutely necessary. They could not act, they could not
rehearse with any satisfaction without her. The comfort of the whole evening was
destroyed. What was to be done? Tom, as Cottager, was in despair. After a pause
of perplexity, some eyes began to be turned towards Fanny, and a voice or two,
to say, »If Miss Price would be so good as to read