I think, I hope, I am sure she is not serious; but I would rather not hear it.
She never has danced with a clergyman, she says, and she never will .
For my own sake, I could wish there had been no ball just at - I mean not this very week, this very day; to-morrow I leave home."
Fanny struggled for speech, and said,
"I am very sorry that anything has occurred to distress you.
This ought to be a day of pleasure.
My uncle meant it so."
"Oh yes, yes! and it will be a day of pleasure.
It will all end right.
I am only vexed for a moment.
In fact, it is not that I consider the ball as ill-timed; what does it signify?
But, Fanny," stopping her, by taking her hand, and speaking low and seriously, "you know what all this means.
You see how it is; and could tell me, perhaps better than I could tell you, how and why I am vexed.
Let me talk to you a little.
You are a kind, kind listener.
I have been pained by her manner this morning, and cannot get the better of it.
I know her disposition to be as sweet and faultless as your own, but the influence of her former companions makes her seem - gives to her conversation, to her professed opinions, sometimes a tinge of wrong.
She does not think evil, but she speaks it, speaks it in playfulness; and though I know it to be playfulness, it grieves me to the soul."
"The effect of education," said Fanny gently.
Edmund could not but agree to it.
"Yes, that uncle and aunt!
They have injured the finest mind; for sometimes, Fanny, I own to you, it does appear more than manner: it appears as if the mind itself was tainted."
Fanny imagined this to be an appeal to her judgment, and therefore, after a moment's consideration, said,
"If you only want me as a listener, cousin, I will be as useful as I can; but I am not qualified for an adviser.
Do not ask advice of me .
I am not competent."
"You are right, Fanny, to protest against such an office, but you need not be afraid.
It is a subject on which I should never ask advice; it is the sort of subject on which it had better never be asked; and few, I imagine, do ask it, but when they want to be influenced against their conscience.
I only want to talk to you."
"One thing more.
Excuse the liberty; but take care how you talk to me.
Do not tell me anything now, which hereafter you may be sorry for.
The time may come - "
The colour rushed into her cheeks as she spoke.
"Dearest Fanny!" cried Edmund, pressing her hand to his lips with almost as much warmth as if it had been Miss Crawford's, "you are all considerate thought!
But it is unnecessary here.
The time will never come.
No such time as you allude to will ever come.
I begin to think it most improbable: the chances grow less and less; and even if it should, there will be nothing to be remembered by either you or me that we need be afraid of, for I can never be ashamed of my own scruples; and if they are removed, it must be by changes that will only raise her character the more by the recollection of the faults she once had.
You are the only being upon earth to whom I should say what I have said; but you have always known my opinion of her; you can bear me witness, Fanny, that I have never been blinded.
How many a time have we talked over her little errors!
You need not fear me; I have almost given up every serious idea of her; but I must be a blockhead indeed, if, whatever befell me, I could think of your kindness and sympathy without the sincerest gratitude."
He had said enough to shake the experience of eighteen.
He had said enough to give Fanny some happier feelings than she had lately known, and with a brighter look, she answered,
"Yes, cousin, I am convinced that you would be incapable of anything else, though perhaps some might not.
I cannot be afraid of hearing anything you wish to say. Do not check yourself.
Tell me whatever you like."
They were now on the second floor, and the appearance of a housemaid prevented any farther conversation.
For Fanny's present comfort it was concluded, perhaps, at the happiest moment: had he been able to talk another five minutes, there is no saying that he might not have talked away all Miss Crawford's faults and his own despondence.
But as it was, they parted with looks on his side of grateful affection, and with some very precious sensations on hers.