Mansfield Park Revisited by Joan Aiken Page B

fallen prey to the fatal charm of the Crawford pair. Either because of better judgment, or insensibility, or lack of proximity, he had somehow been spared the general infection, and, his severe attack of fever happening to lay him low at the time when the rupture of Maria’s marriage was taking place, he had by chance not been so painfully aware of the part played by the brother and sister. The name Crawford when mentioned to him by his agent had evidently not struck him.
    Yes, Tom must be made aware who they were; it was undoubtedly Susan’s duty to give him the information.—Yet, she felt, her paramount and primary duty was towards that poor invalid who had written to Fanny with such longing, with such affection and trust. At this very moment, perhaps—having not received the “No” which, she had asseverated, would be sufficient to turn her from her purpose—at this very moment she might be on her way hither; hoping to see her friends, perhaps, in a matter of hours.—Susan found that she could not bear such a notion, and summoned the butler.
    â€œBaddeley, do you happen to know whether Mr. Tom’s new tenants have yet arrived at the White House?”
    She could be sure that in a village so small as Mansfield, such news would instantly be passed from mouth to mouth, and would be known to everybody in the place before sunset; the family at the great house would be the last to hear it, but their servants must be certain to have the information. And so it proved.
    â€œYes, miss, they came in a barouche from Northampton. The lady looked poorly enough, they say; very poorly indeed she looked, and was put to bed straight by her maid. Dr. Feltham is attending her. They are the same ones, miss, as was here some five or six years agone, before you was come to Mansfield, when old Dr. Grant was still at the Parsonage; ’twas the summer when Master Tom took a fancy for playacting and ordered a theatre to be builded in Master’s business room. Lord, what a dust-up there was, to be sure, when Master— old Master that was—come back from furrin parts and found a platform built and fifty yard o’ baize curtain in his study.—Yes, those at the White House be the self-same ones that used to be up here then, acting and singing and carrying on with Miss Maria and Miss Julia and Mr. Edmund. That Miss Crawford was a rare pretty lady. But ’tis said she’s sadly changed now. The gentleman baint in any way altered, but the lady have lost her looks, they say.”
    â€œThank you, Baddeley,” said Susan, and, as soon as he had withdrawn, sat down to write her note.
    â€œDear Madam,” she wrote, then crossed this out and substituted:
    Dear Miss Crawford:
    I have but now received your letter addressed to my sister Fanny and write in haste to apprise you of the sad news that my sister and brother-in-law are not in Mansfield at present. They have been obliged to sail for the West Indies on business relating to the recent death of my uncle, Sir Thomas Bertram. I took the liberty of opening your letter, having been instructed by my sister to inform all correspondents of her departure and her present whereabouts. I shall, of course, despatch your letter to her by the next sea-mail, but fear it may be at least sixteen weeks before you can expect to receive an answer from her. She and Mr. Bertram are not expected back before September at the earliest.
    I am exceedingly sorry to be the means of conveying to you information which I know must cause you grief and disappointment.
    I understand that you are not in good health, and at present may not be equal to society, so I will not venture to call upon you until I hear from you that such a visit would be acceptable; but I should be glad to do anything that lies within my power to remedy the misfortune of my sister’s absence. Pray let me know if in any way I can be of service to you.
    Yours etc.
Susan Price
    Having despatched