Free Mansfield Park (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) by Jane Austen

consequently to reside at Mansfield; and on proving to be a hearty man of forty-five, seemed likely to disappoint Mr. Bertram’s calculations. But ‘no, he was a short-necked, apoplectic sort of fellow, and, plied well with good things, would soon pop off.’
    He had a wife about fifteen years his junior, but no children; and they entered the neighbourhood with the usual fair report of being very respectable, agreeable people.
    The time was now come when Sir Thomas expected his sister-in-law to claim her share in their niece, the change in Mrs. Norris’s situation, and the improvement in Fanny’s age, seeming not merely to do away any former objection to their living together, but even to give it the most decided eligibility; and as his own circumstances were rendered less fair than heretofore, by some recent losses on his West India estate, in addition to his eldest son’s extravagance, it became not undesirable to himself to be relieved from the expense of her support, and the obligation of her future provision. In the fulness of his belief that such a thing must be, he mentioned its probability to his wife; and the first time of the subject’s occurring to her again happening to be when Fanny was present, she calmly observed to her, ‘So, Fanny, you are going to leave us, and live with my sister. How shall you like it?’
    Fanny was too much surprised to do more than repeat her aunt’s words, ‘Going to leave you?’
    ‘Yes, my dear, why should you be astonished? You have been five years with us, and my sister always meant to take you when Mr. Norris died. But you must come up and tack on my patterns all the same.’
    The news was as disagreeable to Fanny as it had been unexpected. She had never received kindness from her aunt Norris, and could not love her.
    ‘I shall be very sorry to go away,’ said she, with a faltering voice.
    ‘Yes, I daresay you will; that’s natural enough. I suppose you have had as little to vex you since you came into this house as any creature in the world.’
    ‘I hope I am not ungrateful, aunt,’ said Fanny, modestly.
    ‘No, my dear; I hope not. I have always found you a very good girl.’
    ‘And am I never to live here again?’
    ‘Never, my dear; but you are sure of a comfortable home. It can make very little difference to you, whether you are in one house or the other.’
    Fanny left the room with a very sorrowful heart: she could not feel the difference to be so small, she could not think of living with her aunt with anything like satisfaction. As soon as she met with Edmund, she told him her distress.
    ‘Cousin,’ said she, ‘something is going to happen which I do not like at all; and though you have often persuaded me into being reconciled to things that I disliked at first, you will not be able to do it now. I am going to live entirely with my aunt Norris.’
    ‘Indeed!’
    ‘Yes, my aunt Bertram has just told me so. It is quite settled. I am to leave Mansfield Park, and go to the White House, I suppose, as soon as she is removed there.’
    ‘Well, Fanny, and if the plan were not unpleasant to you, I should call it an excellent one.’
    ‘Oh, cousin!’
    ‘It has everything else in its favour. My aunt is acting like a sensible woman in wishing for you. She is choosing a friend and companion exactly where she ought, and I am glad her love of money does not interfere. You will be what you ought to be to her. I hope it does not distress you very much, Fanny.’
    ‘Indeed it does: I cannot like it. I love this house and everything in it: I shall love nothing there. You know how uncomfortable I feel with her.’
    ‘I can say nothing for her manner to you as a child; but it was the same with us all, or nearly so. She never knew how to be pleasant to children. But you are now of an age to be treated better; I think she is behaving better already; and when you are her only companion, you must be important to her.’
    ‘I can never be important to any