warmly
expatiated on, that sweetness which makes so essential a part of every woman's
worth in the judgment of man, that though he sometimes loves where it is not, he
can never believe it absent. Her temper he had good reason to depend on and to
praise. He had often seen it tried. Was there one of the family, excepting
Edmund, who had not in some way or other continually exercised her patience and
forbearance? Her affections were evidently strong. To see her with her brother!
What could more delightfully prove that the warmth of her heart was equal to its
gentleness? - What could be more encouraging to a man who had her love in view?
Then, her understanding was beyond every suspicion, quick and clear; and her
manners were the mirror of her own modest and elegant mind. Nor was this all.
Henry Crawford had too much sense not to feel the worth of good principles in a
wife, though he was too little accustomed to serious reflection to know them by
their proper name; but when he talked of her having such a steadiness and
regularity of conduct, such a high notion of honour, and such an observance of
decorum as might warrant any man in the fullest dependence on her faith and
integrity, he expressed what was inspired by the knowledge of her being well
principled and religious.
    »I could so wholly and absolutely confide in her,« said he; »and that is
what I want.«
    Well might his sister, believing as she really did that his opinion of Fanny
Price was scarcely beyond her merits, rejoice in her prospects.
    »The more I think of it,« she cried, »the more am I convinced that you are
doing quite right, and though I should never have selected Fanny Price as the
girl most likely to attach you, I am now persuaded she is the very one to make
you happy. Your wicked project upon her peace turns out a clever thought indeed.
You will both find your good in it.«
    »It was bad, very bad in me against such a creature! but I did not know her
then. And she shall have no reason to lament the hour that first put it into my
head. I will make her very happy, Mary, happier than she has ever yet been
herself, or ever seen any body else. I will not take her from Northamptonshire.
I shall let Everingham, and rent a place in this neighbourhood - perhaps Stanwix
Lodge. I shall let a seven years' lease of Everingham. I am sure of an excellent
tenant at half a