so long? Being the
only young person at home, I consider _you_ as the greatest sufferer.
You must miss him. Does his staying longer surprise you?"

"I do not know," said Fanny hesitatingly. "Yes; I had not particularly
expected it."

"Perhaps he will always stay longer than he talks of. It is the general
way all young men do."

"He did not, the only time he went to see Mr. Owen before."

"He finds the house more agreeable _now_. He is a very--a very pleasing
young man himself, and I cannot help being rather concerned at not
seeing him again before I go to London, as will now undoubtedly be the
case. I am looking for Henry every day, and as soon as he comes there
will be nothing to detain me at Mansfield. I should like to have seen
him once more, I confess. But you must give my compliments to him. Yes;
I think it must be compliments. Is not there a something wanted,
Miss Price, in our language--a something between compliments and--and
love--to suit the sort of friendly acquaintance we have had together? So
many months' acquaintance! But compliments may be sufficient here.
Was his letter a long one? Does he give you much account of what he is
doing? Is it Christmas gaieties that he is staying for?"

"I only heard a part of the letter; it was to my uncle; but I believe
it was very short; indeed I am sure it was but a few lines. All that I
heard was that his friend had pressed him to stay longer, and that he
had agreed to do so. A _few_ days longer, or _some_ days longer; I am
not quite sure which."

"Oh! if he wrote to his father; but I thought it might have been to Lady
Bertram or you. But if he wrote to his father, no wonder he was concise.
Who could write chat to Sir Thomas? If he had written to you, there
would have been more particulars. You would have heard of balls
and parties. He would have sent you a description of everything and
everybody. How many Miss Owens are there?"

"Three grown up."

"Are they musical?"

"I do not at all know. I never heard."

"That is the first question, you know," said Miss Crawford, trying to
appear gay and unconcerned, "which every woman who plays herself is sure
to ask about another. But it is very foolish to ask questions about
any young ladies--about any three sisters just grown up; for one knows,
without being told, exactly what they are: all very accomplished and
pleasing, and one very pretty. There is a beauty in every family; it is
a regular thing. Two play on the