Mansfield Park "The Crawfords' redemption"

Chapter 7

As they approached the house, Fanny's feelings became disturbed again, everything here reminded her of Edmund, of his mild manners, his unwavering attentions, even his physical beauty.

Though Henry pitied her, held her hand and squeezed it gently to remind her he would be there for her, he quite appreciated the entrance she would make on his side, looking as pale and drawn as this, frightfully thin, barely able to stand.

He was not a good actor for nothing, he knew drama and he was going to make the most of this moment, not for his own sake but for hers, they had neglected her scandalously, and they ought to suffer for it.

If her family had paid proper attention to her, she would not have sought refuge with her cousin, for to Henry, her dependent affection for her cousin, with whom she had been raised together as a brother, was not natural. Usually children raised together did not fall in love, and he was convinced that Fanny had attached herself to Edmund because she had been starved of affection by everyone in her family circle except her cousin.

Now the carriage stopped, and Henry could see Sir Thomas waiting as well as both aunts, even languid Lady Bertram had come outside to greet her visitor, was this in honor of himself, or did they expect him to bring Edmund and Mary? For he was convinced they never thought of Fanny when not directly in front of them.

But there he was mistaken, for when Sir Thomas had recognised the carriage as Mr Crawford's, he had immediately suspected he was come to bring Fanny back to them, for Edmund had mentioned her sorry state in one of his letters.

He was in for the shock of his life, for when Mr Crawford helped her out of the carriage, she could hardly stand on her own two feet. Her face was emaciated, had lost its bloom, she was pale and sickly. Sir Thomas felt the situation as much as Henry could have wanted, and maybe even more, for with a cry of dismay he ran towards her, and very gently and carefully embraced her, clutching her to his chest, saying: 'Oh my poor dear, what have I done to you? Had I known you were suffering such deprivations in Portsmouth I'd have come for you much sooner.'

Inwardly, Henry congratulated Fanny on this perfect excuse to have a good cry in public, which she must be aching for by now. Sir Thomas had never shown her any love, though he apparently felt it very much, and indeed Fanny could no longer hold back and let her tears fall freely, though quietly and in a very dignified way. No-one would ever suspect she was not crying for herself or for them, but for Edmund.

Now her aunt Norris greeted her with an indifferent kiss, and her most loving welcome was reserved for her aunt Bertram, who held her with tears streaming over her face, and told her how much she'd missed her, and that they would all nurse her back to health within no time.

Henry had never seen any feeling from that indolent lady, and her warm display of emotions touched him.

He knew Fanny was not half as badly affected by ill-health as she looked, this was all the result of extreme emotion, and to be expected, so it was with easy politeness that he greeted Sir Thomas, who said nothing of propriety, but only: 'Mr Crawfort, we are forever indebted to you for your kind services to our dear niece. I assure you, had we known she would suffer so much from her stay in Portsmouth, we would not have let her go, or fetched her back much sooner.'

Henry acknowledged his thank you with a polite bow, and told Sir Thomas: 'Thank you for your kind reception, Sir, we had hoped we would be welcome despite not having sent word.'

'My niece will always have a home here, Mr Crawford, she has been greatly missed by myself and Lady Bertram, and of course I have told you last time we spoke that you would be welcome here whenever you felt like visiting us,' Sir Thomas spoke with great warmth, 'Will you stay with us, or will you take your abode with your sister and brother in the parsonage?'