essary to come to a conclusion, and be able to refresh her
spirits by a change of place and neighbour.

The chief of the party were now collected irregularly round the
fire, and waiting the final break-up. William and Fanny were the most
detached. They remained together at the otherwise deserted card-table,
talking very comfortably, and not thinking of the rest, till some of the
rest began to think of them. Henry Crawford's chair was the first to be
given a direction towards them, and he sat silently observing them for a
few minutes; himself, in the meanwhile, observed by Sir Thomas, who was
standing in chat with Dr. Grant.

"This is the assembly night," said William. "If I were at Portsmouth I
should be at it, perhaps."

"But you do not wish yourself at Portsmouth, William?"

"No, Fanny, that I do not. I shall have enough of Portsmouth and of
dancing too, when I cannot have you. And I do not know that there would
be any good in going to the assembly, for I might not get a partner.
The Portsmouth girls turn up their noses at anybody who has not a
commission. One might as well be nothing as a midshipman. One _is_
nothing, indeed. You remember the Gregorys; they are grown up amazing
fine girls, but they will hardly speak to _me_, because Lucy is courted
by a lieutenant."

"Oh! shame, shame! But never mind it, William" (her own cheeks in a
glow of indignation as she spoke). "It is not worth minding. It is no
reflection on _you_; it is no more than what the greatest admirals have
all experienced, more or less, in their time. You must think of that,
you must try to make up your mind to it as one of the hardships which
fall to every sailor's share, like bad weather and hard living, only
with this advantage, that there will be an end to it, that there will
come a time when you will have nothing of that sort to endure. When you
are a lieutenant! only think, William, when you are a lieutenant, how
little you will care for any nonsense of this kind."

"I begin to think I shall never be a lieutenant, Fanny. Everybody gets
made but me."

"Oh! my dear William, do not talk so; do not be so desponding. My uncle
says nothing, but I am sure he will do everything in his power to get
you made. He knows, as well as you do, of what consequence it is."

She was checked by the sight of her uncle much nearer to them than she
had any suspicion of, and each found it necessary to talk of something
else.

"Are you fond of dancing, Fanny