CHAPTER III 

The first event of any importance in the family was the death of Mr. Norris, which happened when Fanny was about fifteen, and necessarily introduced alterations and novelties. Mrs. Norris, on quitting the Parsonage, removed first to the Park, and afterwards to a small house of Sir Thomas's in the village, and consoled herself for the loss of her husband by considering that she could do very well without him; and for her reduction of income by the evident necessity of stricter economy. 

The living was hereafter for Edmund; and, had his uncle died a few years sooner, it would have been duly given to some friend to hold till he were old enough for orders. But Tom's extravagance had, previous to that event, been so great as to render a different disposal of the next presentation necessary, and the younger brother must help to pay for the pleasures of the elder. There was another family living actually held for Edmund; but though this circumstance had made the arrangement somewhat easier to Sir Thomas's conscience, he could not but feel it to be an act of injustice, and he earnestly tried to impress his eldest son with the same conviction, in the hope of its producing a better effect than anything he had yet been able to say or do. 

"I blush for you, Tom," said he, in his most dignified manner; "I blush for the expedient which I am driven on, and I trust I may pity your feelings as a brother on the occasion. You have robbed Edmund for ten, twenty, thirty years, perhaps for life, of more than half the income which ought to be his. It may hereafter be in my power, or in yours (I hope it will), to procure him better preferment; but it must not be forgotten that no benefit of that sort would have been beyond his natural claims on us, and that nothing can, in fact, be an equivalent for the certain advantage which he is now obliged to forego through the urgency of your debts." 

Tom listened with some shame and some sorrow; but escaping as quickly as possible, could soon with cheerful selfishness reflect, firstly, that he had not been half so much in debt as some of his friends; secondly, that his father had made a most tiresome piece of work of it; and, thirdly, that the future incumbent, whoever he might be, would, in all probability, die very soon. 

On Mr. Norris's death the presentation became the right of a Dr. Grant, who came 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 fullness 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 dare say 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 one." 

"What is to prevent you?" 

"Everything. My situation, my foolishness and awkwardness." 

"As to your foolishness and awkwardness, my dear Fanny, believe me, you never have a shadow of either, but in using the words so improperly. There is no reason in the world why you should not be important where you are known. You have good sense, and a sweet temper, and I am sure you have a grateful heart, that could never receive kindness without wishing to return it. I do not know any better qualifications for a friend and companion." 

"You are too kind," said Fanny, colouring at such praise; "how shall I ever thank you as I ought, for thinking so well of me. Oh! cousin, if I am to go away, I shall remember your goodness to the last moment of my life." 

"Why, indeed, Fanny, I should hope to be remembered at such a distance as the White House. You speak as if you were going two hundred miles off instead of only across the park; but you will belong to us almost as much as ever. The two families will be meeting every day in the year. The only difference will be that, living with your aunt, you will necessarily be brought forward as you ought to be. Here there are too many whom you can hide behind; but with her you will be forced to speak for yourself." 

"Oh! I do not say so." 

"I must say it, and say it with pleasure. Mrs. Norris is much better fitted than my mother for having the charge of you now. She is of a temper to do a great deal for anybody she really interests herself about, and she will force you to do justice to your natural powers." 

Fanny sighed, and said, "I cannot see things as you do; but I ought to believe you to be right rather than myself, and I am very much obliged to you for trying to reconcile me to what must be. If I could suppose my aunt really to care for me, it would be delightful to feel myself of consequence to anybody. _ Here_, I know, I am of none, and yet I love the place so well." 

"The place, Fanny, is what you will not quit, though you quit the house. You will have as free a command of the park and gardens as ever. Even _your_ constant little heart need not take fright at such a nominal change. You will have the same walks to frequent, the same library to choose from, the same people to look at, the same horse to ride." 

"Very true. Yes, dear old grey pony! Ah! cousin, when I remember how much I used to dread riding, what terrors it gave me to hear it talked of as likely to do me good (oh! how I have trembled at my uncle's opening his lips if horses were talked of), and then think of the kind pains you took to reason and persuade me out of my fears, and convince me that I should like it after a little while, and feel how right you proved to be, I am inclined to hope you may always prophesy as well." 

"And I am quite convinced that your being with Mrs. Norris will be as good for your mind as riding has been for your health, and as much for your ultimate happiness too." 

So ended their discourse, which, for any very appropriate service it could render Fanny, might as well have been spared, for Mrs. Norris had not the smallest intention of taking her. It had never occurred to her, on the present occasion, but as a thing to be carefully avoided. To prevent its being expected, she had fixed on the smallest habitation which could rank as genteel among the buildings of Mansfield parish, the White House being only just large enough to receive herself and her servants, and allow a spare room for a friend, of which she made a very particular point. The spare rooms at the Parsonage had never been wanted, but the absolute necessity of a spare room for a friend was now never forgotten. Not all her precautions, however, could save her from being suspected of something better; or, perhaps, her very display of the importance of a spare room might have misled Sir Thomas to suppose it really intended for Fanny. Lady Bertram soon brought the matter to a certainty by carelessly observing to Mrs. Norris-- 

"I think, sister, we need not keep Miss Lee any longer, when Fanny goes to live with you." 

Mrs. Norris almost started. "Live with me, dear Lady Bertram! what do you mean?" 

"Is she not to live with you? I thought you had settled it with Sir Thomas." 

"Me! never. I never spoke a syllable about it to Sir Thomas, nor he to me. Fanny live with me! the last thing in the world for me to think of, or for anybody to wish that really knows us both. Good heaven! what could I do with Fanny? Me! a poor, helpless, forlorn widow, unfit for anything, my spirits quite broke down; what could I do with a girl at her time of life? A girl of fifteen! the very age of all others to need most attention and care, and put the cheerfullest spirits to the test! Sure Sir Thomas could not seriously expect such a thing! Sir Thomas is too much my friend. Nobody that wishes me well, I am sure, would propose it. How came Sir Thomas to speak to you about it?" 

"Indeed, I do not know. I suppose he thought it best." 

"But what did he say? He could not say he _wished_ me to take Fanny. I am sure in his heart he could not wish me to do it." 

"No; he only said he thought it very likely; and I thought so too. We both thought it would be a comfort to you. But if you do not like it, there is no more to be said. She is no encumbrance here." 

"Dear sister, if you consider my unhappy state, how can she be any comfort to me? Here am I, a poor desolate widow, deprived of the best of husbands, my health gone in attending and nursing him, my spirits still worse, all my peace in this world destroyed, with hardly enough to support me in the rank of a gentlewoman, and enable me to live so as not to disgrace the memory of the dear departed-- what possible comfort could I have in taking such a charge upon me as Fanny? If I could wish it for my own sake, I would not do so unjust a thing by the poor girl. She is in good hands, and sure of doing well. I must struggle through my sorrows and difficulties as I can." 

"Then you will not mind living by yourself quite alone?" 

"Lady Bertram, I do not complain. I know I cannot live as I have done, but I must retrench where I can, and learn to be a better manager. I _have_ _been_ a liberal housekeeper enough, but I shall not be ashamed to practise economy now. My situation is as much altered as my income. A great many things were due from poor Mr. Norris, as clergyman of the parish, that cannot be expected from me. It is unknown how much was consumed in our kitchen by odd comers and goers. At the White House, matters must be better looked after. I _must_ live within my income, or I shall be miserable; and I own it would give me great satisfaction to be able to do rather more, to lay by a little at the end of the year." 

"I dare say you will. You always do, don't you?" 

"My object, Lady Bertram, is to be of use to those that come after me. It is for your children's good that I wish to be richer. I have nobody else to care for, but I should be very glad to think I could leave a little trifle among them worth their having." 

"You are very good, but do not trouble yourself about them. They are sure of being well provided for. Sir Thomas will take care of that." 

"Why, you know, Sir Thomas's means will be rather straitened if the Antigua estate is to make such poor returns." 

"Oh! _that_ will soon be settled. Sir Thomas has been writing about it, I know." 

"Well, Lady Bertram," said Mrs. Norris, moving to go, "I can only say that my sole desire is to be of use to your family: and so, if Sir Thomas should ever speak again about my taking Fanny, you will be able to say that my health and spirits put it quite out of the question; besides that, I really should not have a bed to give her, for I must keep a spare room for a friend." 

Lady Bertram repeated enough of this conversation to her husband to convince him how much he had mistaken his sister-in-law's views; and she was from that moment perfectly safe from all expectation, or the slightest allusion to it from him. He could not but wonder at her refusing to do anything for a niece whom she had been so forward to adopt; but, as she took early care to make him, as well as Lady Bertram, understand that whatever she possessed was designed for their family, he soon grew reconciled to a distinction which, at the same time that it was advantageous and complimentary to them, would enable him better to provide for Fanny himself. 

Fanny soon learnt how unnecessary had been her fears of a removal; and her spontaneous, untaught felicity on the discovery, conveyed some consolation to Edmund for his disappointment in what he had expected to be so essentially serviceable to her. Mrs. Norris took possession of the White House, the Grants arrived at the Parsonage, and these events over, everything at Mansfield went on for some time as usual. 

The Grants showing a disposition to be friendly and sociable, gave great satisfaction in the main among their new acquaintance. They had their faults, and Mrs. Norris soon found them out. The Doctor was very fond of eating, and would have a good dinner every day; and Mrs. Grant, instead of contriving to gratify him at little expense, gave her cook as high wages as they did at Mansfield Park, and was scarcely ever seen in her offices. Mrs. Norris could not speak with any temper of such grievances, nor of the quantity of butter and eggs that were regularly consumed in the house. "Nobody loved plenty and hospitality more than herself; nobody more hated pitiful doings; the Parsonage, she believed, had never been wanting in comforts of any sort, had never borne a bad character in _her_ _time_, but this was a way of going on that she could not understand. A fine lady in a country parsonage was quite out of place. _Her_ store-room, she thought, might have been good enough for Mrs. Grant to go into. Inquire where she would, she could not find out that Mrs. Grant had ever had more than five thousand pounds." 

Lady Bertram listened without much interest to this sort of invective. She could not enter into the wrongs of an economist, but she felt all the injuries of beauty in Mrs. Grant's being so well settled in life without being handsome, and expressed her astonishment on that point almost as often, though not so diffusely, as Mrs. Norris discussed the other. 

These opinions had been hardly canvassed a year before another event arose of such importance in the family, as might fairly claim some place in the thoughts and conversation of the ladies. Sir Thomas found it expedient to go to Antigua himself, for the better arrangement of his affairs, and he took his eldest son with him, in the hope of detaching him from some bad connexions at home. They left England with the probability of being nearly a twelvemonth absent. 

The necessity of the measure in a pecuniary light, and the hope of its utility to his son, reconciled Sir Thomas to the effort of quitting the rest of his family, and of leaving his daughters to the direction of others at their present most interesting time of life. He could not think Lady Bertram quite equal to supply his place with them, or rather, to perform what should have been her own; but, in Mrs. Norris's watchful attention, and in Edmund's judgment, he had sufficient confidence to make him go without fears for their conduct. 

Lady Bertram did not at all like to have her husband leave her; but she was not disturbed by any alarm for his safety, or solicitude for his comfort, being one of those persons who think nothing can be dangerous, or difficult, or fatiguing to anybody but themselves. 

The Miss Bertrams were much to be pitied on the occasion: not for their sorrow, but for their want of it. Their father was no object of love to them; he had never seemed the friend of their pleasures, and his absence was unhappily most welcome. They were relieved by it from all restraint; and without aiming at one gratification that would probably have been forbidden by Sir Thomas, they felt themselves immediately at their own disposal, and to have every indulgence within their reach. Fanny's relief, and her consciousness of it, were quite equal to her cousins'; but a more tender nature suggested that her feelings were ungrateful, and she really grieved because she could not grieve. "Sir Thomas, who had done so much for her and her brothers, and who was gone perhaps never to return! that she should see him go without a tear! it was a shameful insensibility." He had said to her, moreover, on the very last morning, that he hoped she might see William again in the course of the ensuing winter, and had charged her to write and invite him to Mansfield as soon as the squadron to which he belonged should be known to be in England. "This was so thoughtful and kind!" and would he only have smiled upon her, and called her "my dear Fanny," while he said it, every former frown or cold address might have been forgotten. But he had ended his speech in a way to sink her in sad mortification, by adding, "If William does come to Mansfield, I hope you may be able to convince him that the many years which have passed since you parted have not been spent on your side entirely without improvement; though, I fear, he must find his sister at sixteen in some respects too much like his sister at ten." She cried bitterly over this reflection when her uncle was gone; and her cousins, on seeing her with red eyes, set her down as a hypocrite.

第一卷 第三章

这个家族所出的第一件较大的事是诺里斯先生的去世。事情发生在范妮大约十五岁那年，不可避免地引起了一些变化和新鲜事。诺里斯太太离开了牧师住宅，先是搬到了曼斯菲尔德庄园，后来又搬到托马斯爵士在村子里的一座小屋。她为失去丈夫安慰自己，心想没有他照样能过得挺好，也为收入减少安慰自己，明摆着应该更加节俭些。

这个牧师职位本应由埃德蒙接任的，如果姨父早死几年，埃德蒙还不到接受圣职的年龄，就由哪个亲友暂干几年，到时候再交给他。但是，姨父去世之前，汤姆即已挥霍无度，职位的下一任人选只好另找他人，做弟弟的必须为哥哥的寻欢作乐付出代价。其实，他家还有另一个牧师职位给埃德蒙留着，尽管这一情况使得托马斯爵士在良心上多少好受一些，但他总觉得事情做得不够公平，便极力想让大儿子也认识到这一点，希望这一努力能产生比他以前的任何言行都要好的效果。

“汤姆，我为你感到害臊，”他以极其庄重量的态度说道。“我为我被迫采取这个应急措施感到害臊。我想我要可怜你在这件事情上所感到的为兄的惭愧之情。你把本该属于埃德蒙的一半以上的进项剥夺了十年、二十年、三十年，说不定是一辈子。也许我今后有能力，或者你今后有能力，给他谋到一个更好的职位，不过，我们决不能忘记，即使做出这样的好事，也没有超出我们做父兄的对他应尽的义务。事实上，由于急于给你偿还债务，他现在不得不放弃的那份明摆着的好处，是什么也补偿不了的。”

汤姆听着这席话倒也感到几分惭愧，几分难受。不过，为了尽快摆脱这种心情，他很快便带着乐滋滋的自私心理琢磨道：第一，他欠的债还不及某些朋友欠的一半多；第二，他父亲对这件事唠叨得够烦人了；第三，下一任牧师不管由谁来担任，十有八九会很快死去。

诺里斯先生死后，继任圣职的权利落到了一位格兰特博士身上，因而他就来到曼斯菲尔德住了下来。没想到他竟是个四十五岁的健壮汉子，看来伯特伦先生的如意算盘是要落空了。可是，“不，这人是个短脖子，容易中风的那种人，加上贪吃贪喝，很快就会死去。”

新任牧师的妻子比他小十五岁左右，两人无儿无女。他们来到这里，像以往的牧师初来乍到时一样，人们都传说他们是非常体面、和蔼可亲的人。

时至如今，托马斯爵士觉得他的大姨子应该履行她对外甥女的那份义务了。诺里斯太太的处境变了，范妮的年龄也渐渐大了，诺里斯太太原先反对范妮住她家的理由似乎已不复存在，反倒显得两人住在一起是最妥当不过了。再说托马斯爵士的西鳊种植场近来遭受了一些损失，加上大儿子挥霍无度，境况已不如从前，因此他也并非不想解脱掉抚养范妮的负担，以及将来供养她的义务。他深信必须这样做，便向妻子说起了这种可能性。伯特伦夫人再次想到这件事情的时候，碰巧范妮也在场，她便平静地对她说：“这样看来，范妮，你就要离开我们住到我姐姐那里去了。你觉得怎么样？”

范妮大为惊愕，只是重复了一声姨妈的话：“就要离开你们了？”

“是的，亲爱的，你为什么感到惊讶呢？你在我们这里住了五年了，诺里斯先生去世以后，我姐姐总想让你过去。不过，你还得照样过来给我缝图案呀。”

这消息不仅使范妮为之惊讶，而且令她感觉不快。她从未领受过诺里斯姨妈的好处，因此也不可能爱她。

“我离开这里会很伤心的。”她声音颤抖地说。

“是啊，我想你是会伤心的，这也是很自然的。我想，自从你来到这个家以后，还不曾有过什么事情让你烦恼吧。”

“姨妈，我想我没有忘恩负义吧，”范妮腼腆地说。

“是的，亲爱的，我想你没有。我一直觉得你是个很好的姑娘。”

“我以后再也不能住到这里了吗？”

“再也不能了，亲爱的。不过，你肯定会有一个舒适的家。不管你是住在这座宅子里，还是住在别的宅子里，对你来说都不会有多大差别。”

范妮心情沉重地走出屋去。她无法把这差异看得很小，她无法想象和大姨妈住在一起会有什么称心如意的事情。她一碰到埃德蒙，便把自己的伤心事告诉了他。

“表哥，”她说，“就要出一件让我很不高兴的事。过去我遇到不高兴的事，往往经你开导想通了，可这一次你就开导不通我了。我要住到诺里斯姨妈家去了。”

“真的呀！”

“是的，伯特伦姨妈刚刚这么对我说的。事情已经定下来了。我得离开曼斯菲尔德庄园，我想一等诺里斯姨妈搬到白房子，我就搬到那里去。”

“哦，范妮，要不是因为你不喜欢这个安排，我还真会觉得好得很呢。”

“噢！表哥！”

“这个安排从各个方面来看都不错。大姨妈既然希望你过去，表明她挺通情达理的。她选择了你做朋友和伙伴是再恰当不过了，我很高兴她没有因为贪财而不选你。你做她的朋友和伙伴也是应该的。我希望，范妮，你不要为这件事感到太难过。”

“我真的很难过。我不可能为之高兴。我喜欢这座房子，喜欢这里的每样东西，而那里的一切我都不会喜欢。你知道我跟她在一起多不自在。”

“她把你当孩子看待时对你的态度，我没有什么好莱坞讲的。不过，她对我们大家的态度也和对你一样，或者说差不多一样。她从不懂得怎样对孩子和蔼可亲。不过，你现在到了这个年龄，需要别人待你好些。我看她现在待你是好些了。等你成了她伙伴，她一定会看重你的。”

“我永远不会被任何人看重的。”

“你有什么事情妨碍你呢？”

“样样事情——我的处境——我的愚蠢，我的笨拙。”

“至于说你愚蠢、笨拙，亲爱的范妮，请想念我，你一丝一毫也没有这样的缺陷，这两个字眼用得太不恰当。不管在什么地方，只要你们了解了你，你决不会不被人看重。你通情达理，性情温柔，我敢说还有一颗感恩图报之心，受到别人的好处总想报答人家的恩情。照我看，作为朋友和伙伴，没有什么比这更好的品质了。”

“你太好了，”范妮说，听到表哥的赞扬，不由得脸红了。“你把我看得这么好，我怎么感谢你才好啊！噢！表哥，我要是离开这里，将永远记住你的好处，直至我生命的最后一刻。”

“哦，范妮，不过是白房子那么一点距离，我倒真希望你能记住我。听你的口气，你好像是要到两百英里以外去，而不仅仅是庄园的那一边。不过，你差不多和以往一样，还是我们中间的一员。两家人一年到头天天见面。惟一的区别是，你跟大姨妈住在一起，必然会理所应该地促使你早点成熟。在这儿吗，人太多了，你可以躲在后边。可是跟大姨妈在一起，你不得不替自己说话。”

“噢！不要这么说嘛。”

“我必须这么说，而且乐意这么说。现在由诺里斯姨妈来照管你，比我妈妈合适得多。诺里斯姨妈有这样的脾气，对于她真正关心的人，能照顾得非常周到，还能促使你充分发挥你的能力。”

范妮叹息了一声，说道：“我的看法和你不一样。不过，我应该想念你而不是想念我自己，你想帮助我对避免不了的事情想开些，我非常感激。如果我能够设想大姨妈真正关心我，我会因为感到还有人看重我而高兴啊！在这儿，我知道我是无足轻重的，可我非常喜欢这个地方。”

“范妮，你要离开的是这座房子，可不是这个地方。这个庄园及里边的花园你还可以一如既往地自由享受。对于这样一个名义上的变化，即使你那小小的心灵也不必为之惊骇。你还可以照样在原来的小路上散步，照样从原来的图书室里挑选图书，照样看到原来的人，照样骑原来那匹马。”

“一点不错。是啊，亲爱的老灰马。啊！表哥，我还记得当初我多么害怕骑马，一听人说骑马会对我有好处就吓得不得了。噢！每次谈到马的时候，一看到姨父要张嘴说话，我就浑身发抖。再想想你好心好意费尽心思地劝导我不要害怕，让我想念只要骑一会儿就会喜欢的，现在觉得你的话说得多么正确，我倒希望你每次的预言能同样正确。”

“我完全相信，你和诺里斯太太在一起会对你的智力有好处，正如骑马对你的身体有好处一样——也对你的最终幸福有好处。”

他们的这番谈话就这样结束了，不管对范妮有没有好处，其实本可以不谈的，因为诺里斯太太丝毫没有接纳她的意思。目前，她只想小心翼翼地回避这件事。为了防止别人打她的主意，她挑选了曼斯菲教区可以维持上流社会体面的最小的住宅。这所白房子只容得下她自己和她的仆人，还有一个备用房间是专为一个朋友准备的，而且要不厌其烦地强调这一点。以前她们住在牧师住宅里从未需要什么备用房间，现在却念念不忘要给朋友保留一个备用房间。然而，不管她怎么处心积虑地防范，还是免不了别人把她往好里猜想。她反复强调需要有个备用不着房间，也可能使托马斯爵士误以为真是为范妮准备的。伯特伦夫人不久便把这件事明确地提了出来，漫不经心地对诺里斯太太说：“姐姐，等范妮跟你在一起生活之后，我想我们就不再需要雇用李小姐了吧？”

诺里斯太太几乎吓了一跳。“跟我一起生活，亲爱的伯特伦夫人，你这是什么意思？”

“她不是要跟你一起生活吗？我还以为你跟托马斯爵士早就谈妥了呢？”

“我！从来没有。我一个字也没跟托马斯爵士说起过，他也只字没跟我说起过。范妮跟我住在一起！这是我决不会考虑的事，凡是真正了解我们俩的人，谁也不会这么设想。天哪！我把范妮领去怎么办呀！我！一个孤苦伶仃的穷寡妇，什么事情都干不了，精神都崩溃了，叫我对这样年龄的一个姑娘，一个十五岁的姑娘怎么办呀！这么大的孩子正是需要关心和爱护的时候，连精力最旺盛的人也未必随得了呀！

托马斯爵士决不会当真指望我做这样的事情吧？”

“我还真不知道。我想他觉得这样做最合适。”

“可他是怎么说的呢？他总不会说他希望我把范妮接走吧。我想他内心里肯定不会希望我这样做。”

“是的，他只是说他认为这样做比较合适——我也是这么认为的。我们俩都觉得这对你会是个安慰。不过，你要是不想这样做，那就什么也不用再说了。她在这里并没有什么妨碍。”

“亲爱的妹妹！你要是考虑一下我的悲惨情况，她怎么会给我带来什么安慰呢？如今我是个可怜巴巴的穷寡妇，失去了世界上最好的丈夫，为了伺候他把我的身体也弄垮了，我的精神状态更加糟糕，我在人世间的宁静全被摧毁了，只能勉强维持一个有身份女人的生活，不至于辱没我那已去世的亲爱的丈夫——再叫我担负起照管范妮的责任，我会得到什么安慰呀！即使我为了自己想要这样做，我也不能对那可怜的孩子做出这么不公道的事情。她现在受到高贵人家的养育，肯定前程似锦。我却得到艰难困苦中拼命挣扎。”

“那你不在乎孤零零地一个人生活啦？”

“亲爱的伯特伦夫人！我除了孤零零地还配怎么样呢？我希望偶尔有能有个朋友住到我那小房舍里（我要永远为朋友留个床位），但我将来的绝大部分岁月要在与世隔绝中度过。我要是能勉强维持生活，就别无所求了。”

“姐姐，我想你的情况也不至于那么坏——通盘考虑起来。托马斯爵士说你每年会有六百镑的收入。”

“伯特伦夫人，我不是叫苦。我明白我不能像过去那样生活了，而要尽地节省开支，学会做个更好的当家人。我以前一直是个大手大脚的当家人，现在要省吃俭用也不怕人笑话。我的处境像我的收入一样发生了变化。许多事情是可怜的诺里斯先生当牧师时招来的，现在不能指望我也去那样做。素不相识的人来来往往，不知道吃掉了我们厨房里多少东西。到了白房子里，事情就得照料得好一些。我一定得量入为出，不然就要受苦了。坦白地说，要是能做得更好一些——到了年底能有一点积蓄，我会感到非常高兴的。”

“我想你会的。你不是一直在积蓄吗？”

“伯特伦夫人，我的目标是给下一代人留些好处。我是为了你的孩子们，才希望能多有点钱。我没有别人需要关照的，就想将来能给他们每人留下一份稍微像样的财产。”

“你真好，不过不要为他们操心。他们将来肯定什么都不会缺的。托马斯爵士会处理好这件事的。”

“嗨，你要知道，要是安提瓜种植园还这么收入不好的话，托马斯爵士的手头就会很紧了。”

“噢！这很快会解决的。我知道，托马斯爵士正在为此起草什么东西。”

“好吧，伯特伦夫人，”诺里斯太太说，一边动身要走，“我只能说，我的愿望是对你的孩子们有些好处——因此，要是托马斯爵士再提起要我把范妮领去的话，你可以对他说，我的身体和精神都不允许我那样做——再说，我还真没有给她睡觉的地方，我得为朋友保留一个备用房间。”

伯特伦夫人把这次谈话转告了她的丈夫，使他意识到他完全领会错了大姨子的心思。从此之后，诺里斯太太再也不用担心他对她还会有什么指望，也不必担心他会就这件事再提只言片语。托马斯爵士感到奇怪的是，当初她是那样起劲地撺掇他们领养这个外甥女，如今却对她一点义务都不肯尽。不过，由于她提前告诉他和伯特伦夫人，她的所有财产都要留给他们的子女，这对他们既有好处，也是好大的面子，因此很快便想通了，进而也能更好地为范妮未来的生活做安排了。范妮很快便得知，她起先有关要搬用走的担忧是完全没有必要的。埃德蒙本来在为他觉得对范妮大有好处的一件事没能办成而感到失望，不料范妮获悉后却喜不自禁，这也给他带来了几分安慰。诺里斯太太住进了白房子，格兰特夫妇来到了牧师住宅，这两件事情过后，曼斯菲尔德一切如常地持续了一段时间。格兰特夫妇性情和蔼可亲，喜欢交际，使新结识的人大体上颇为满意。两人也有缺点，很快就让诺里斯太太发现了。博士非常好吃，每天都要大吃一顿；而格兰特太太不是尽量节省以满足他的需求，反而给厨子很高的工钱，简直跟曼斯菲尔德庄园给的一样高，而且很少见她亲临厨房和贮藏室。诺里斯太太一说起这种令人愤懑的事情，或者一说起家人每天耗费那么多的黄油和鸡蛋，不免就要动气。“谁也不像我那样喜欢大量和好客——谁也不像我那样讨厌小家子气——我相信，牧师住宅在我当家的时候，该享受的东西从没缺过一样，也从没落得过什么坏名声，但是像他们现在这样胡法，我可不能理解。想在乡下牧师住宅里摆阔太太的架子，实在不相称。我原来的那间贮藏室够不错的了，我看格兰特太太进去一趟不会降低她的身份。我到处打听，从没听说格兰特太太的财产超过五千镑。”伯特伦夫人没有多大兴致去听这种指责。她不愿过问持家人的过失，但她觉得格兰特太太人不漂亮却也能过上这么好的日子，这简直是对漂亮人们的侮辱，于是她经常对此表示惊讶，就像诺里斯太太经常谈论持家问题一样，只是不像诺里斯太太那样喋喋不休。

这些看法谈论了还不到一年，家里又发生了一件事，这件事关系重大，自然要在太太小姐们的心事言谈中占有一定位置。托马斯爵士觉得，他应当亲自跑到安提瓜，以便更好地安排那里的事务，并顺便把大儿子也带了去，想借此使他摆脱在家里结交的一些坏人。他们离开了英国，可能要在外面待上将近一年。托马斯爵士本不愿离开一家老小，把正处于妙龄时期的两位女儿交给别人指导，只是从钱财角度看来必须这样做，而且这样做可能对儿子有好处，这才打定了主意。他觉得伯特伦夫人不能完全接替他对两个女儿的指导。他觉得伯特伦夫人不能完全接替他对两个女儿的指导，甚至连她自己应尽的职责都难以完成。但他非常相信诺里斯太太的谨慎小心和埃德蒙的审慎明断，足以让他放心离去，不再为女儿们担伯特伦夫人压根儿不想让丈夫离开她，不过她之所以感到不安，既不是出于对他完全的担心，也不是出于对他安适的关心。她属于这样一种人，只知道自己会有危险、困难和劳顿，而别人全然不会遇上这类事情。

在这次离别中，让人深为可怜的还是两位伯特伦小姐。这倒不是因为她们为之伤心，而是因为她们并不伤心。她们并不爱她们的父亲，凡是她们事情，他似乎从来没有赞成过，因而令人遗憾的是，父亲出门远去，她们反倒大为高兴。这样一来，她们就从种种约束中解脱出来。她们不会想做什么乐事而遭到父亲的禁止，顿时感到一切可以由着自己了，完全可以瓷意放纵了。范妮的解脱、欣慰之感丝毫不亚于两位表姐，不过她心肠比她们软，觉得自己这种心情是忘恩负义，真为自己没能伤心而感到伤心。“托马斯爵士对我和哥哥弟弟有那么多的恩情，这次一去也许永远回不来啦！我看着他走居然连一滴眼泪也不曾流下！简直是无情无义到可耻的地步。”况且，就在临别的那天早晨，他还对她说，他希望在即将到来的冬天她能再次见到威廉，并嘱咐她一听到威廉所属的中队回到英国，就写信邀请他来曼斯菲尔德。“他对我这么体贴多么好啊！”他说那些话的时候，只需对她笑一笑，叫一声“亲爱的范妮”，她就会忘掉以往他对她总是皱着眉头，言语冷漠。不过，他在那席话的最后加了几句，使她感到不胜屈辱：“如果威廉来到曼斯菲尔德，我希望你能让他相信，你们分别多年，你并非毫无长进——不过我担心，他一定会发现，他的妹妹虽然已经十六岁，但在某些方面还像十岁时一样。”姨父走后，她这样想来想去，痛哭了一场。两位表姐看见她两眼通红，以为她在装模作样。