in the day and
in the view which would be felt.

The day was uncommonly lovely. It was really March; but it was April in
its mild air, brisk soft wind, and bright sun, occasionally clouded for
a minute; and everything looked so beautiful under the influence of such
a sky, the effects of the shadows pursuing each other on the ships at
Spithead and the island beyond, with the ever-varying hues of the sea,
now at high water, dancing in its glee and dashing against the ramparts
with so fine a sound, produced altogether such a combination of charms
for Fanny, as made her gradually almost careless of the circumstances
under which she felt them. Nay, had she been without his arm, she would
soon have known that she needed it, for she wanted strength for a two
hours' saunter of this kind, coming, as it generally did, upon a week's
previous inactivity. Fanny was beginning to feel the effect of being
debarred from her usual regular exercise; she had lost ground as to
health since her being in Portsmouth; and but for Mr. Crawford and the
beauty of the weather would soon have been knocked up now.

The loveliness of the day, and of the view, he felt like herself. They
often stopt with the same sentiment and taste, leaning against the wall,
some minutes, to look and admire; and considering he was not Edmund,
Fanny could not but allow that he was sufficiently open to the charms
of nature, and very well able to express his admiration. She had a few
tender reveries now and then, which he could sometimes take advantage
of to look in her face without detection; and the result of these looks
was, that though as bewitching as ever, her face was less blooming than
it ought to be. She _said_ she was very well, and did not like to be
supposed otherwise; but take it all in all, he was convinced that her
present residence could not be comfortable, and therefore could not
be salutary for her, and he was growing anxious for her being again at
Mansfield, where her own happiness, and his in seeing her, must be so
much greater.

"You have been here a month, I think?" said he.

"No; not quite a month. It is only four weeks to-morrow since I left
Mansfield."

"You are a most accurate and honest reckoner. I should call that a
month."

"I did not arrive here till Tuesday evening."

"And it is to be a two months' visit, is not?"

"Yes. My uncle talked of two months. I suppose it will not be less."

"And how are you to be conveyed back again? Who