even of being
agreeable, she had barely acknowledged. He was now the Mr. Crawford who
was addressing herself with ardent, disinterested love; whose feelings
were apparently become all that was honourable and upright, whose views
of happiness were all fixed on a marriage of attachment; who was
pouring out his sense of her merits, describing and describing again his
affection, proving as far as words could prove it, and in the language,
tone, and spirit of a man of talent too, that he sought her for her
gentleness and her goodness; and to complete the whole, he was now the
Mr. Crawford who had procured William's promotion!

Here was a change, and here were claims which could not but operate!
She might have disdained him in all the dignity of angry virtue, in
the grounds of Sotherton, or the theatre at Mansfield Park; but he
approached her now with rights that demanded different treatment.
She must be courteous, and she must be compassionate. She must have
a sensation of being honoured, and whether thinking of herself or her
brother, she must have a strong feeling of gratitude. The effect of the
whole was a manner so pitying and agitated, and words intermingled with
her refusal so expressive of obligation and concern, that to a temper of
vanity and hope like Crawford's, the truth, or at least the strength
of her indifference, might well be questionable; and he was not so
irrational as Fanny considered him, in the professions of persevering,
assiduous, and not desponding attachment which closed the interview.

It was with reluctance that he suffered her to go; but there was no look
of despair in parting to belie his words, or give her hopes of his being
less unreasonable than he professed himself.

Now she was angry. Some resentment did arise at a perseverance so
selfish and ungenerous. Here was again a want of delicacy and regard for
others which had formerly so struck and disgusted her. Here was again
a something of the same Mr. Crawford whom she had so reprobated before.
How evidently was there a gross want of feeling and humanity where his
own pleasure was concerned; and alas! how always known no principle to
supply as a duty what the heart was deficient in! Had her own affections
been as free as perhaps they ought to have been, he never could have
engaged them.

So thought Fanny, in good truth and sober sadness, as she sat musing
over that too great indulgence and luxury of a fire upstairs: wondering
at the past an