ut in spite of that burst, and in spite of that
great black word _miserable_, which served to introduce it, Sir Thomas
began to think a little relenting, a little change of inclination, might
have something to do with it; and to augur favourably from the personal
entreaty of the young man himself. He knew her to be very timid, and
exceedingly nervous; and thought it not improbable that her mind
might be in such a state as a little time, a little pressing, a little
patience, and a little impatience, a judicious mixture of all on the
lover's side, might work their usual effect on. If the gentleman would
but persevere, if he had but love enough to persevere, Sir Thomas began
to have hopes; and these reflections having passed across his mind and
cheered it, "Well," said he, in a tone of becoming gravity, but of less
anger, "well, child, dry up your tears. There is no use in these tears;
they can do no good. You must now come downstairs with me. Mr. Crawford
has been kept waiting too long already. You must give him your own
answer: we cannot expect him to be satisfied with less; and you only
can explain to him the grounds of that misconception of your sentiments,
which, unfortunately for himself, he certainly has imbibed. I am totally
unequal to it."

But Fanny shewed such reluctance, such misery, at the idea of going down
to him, that Sir Thomas, after a little consideration, judged it better
to indulge her. His hopes from both gentleman and lady suffered a small
depression in consequence; but when he looked at his niece, and saw the
state of feature and complexion which her crying had brought her
into, he thought there might be as much lost as gained by an immediate
interview. With a few words, therefore, of no particular meaning, he
walked off by himself, leaving his poor niece to sit and cry over what
had passed, with very wretched feelings.

Her mind was all disorder. The past, present, future, everything was
terrible. But her uncle's anger gave her the severest pain of all.
Selfish and ungrateful! to have appeared so to him! She was miserable
for ever. She had no one to take her part, to counsel, or speak for her.
Her only friend was absent. He might have softened his father; but all,
perhaps all, would think her selfish and ungrateful. She might have to
endure the reproach again and again; she might hear it, or see it, or
know it to exist for ever in every connexion about her. She could not
but feel some resentment a