tched, and how carefully
her own eyes were fixed on any object but himself, may be imagined. The
opening was alarming. He had seen Miss Crawford. He had been invited to
see her. He had received a note from Lady Stornaway to beg him to call;
and regarding it as what was meant to be the last, last interview
of friendship, and investing her with all the feelings of shame and
wretchedness which Crawford's sister ought to have known, he had gone to
her in such a state of mind, so softened, so devoted, as made it for a
few moments impossible to Fanny's fears that it should be the last. But
as he proceeded in his story, these fears were over. She had met him,
he said, with a serious--certainly a serious--even an agitated air;
but before he had been able to speak one intelligible sentence, she had
introduced the subject in a manner which he owned had shocked him. "'I
heard you were in town,' said she; 'I wanted to see you. Let us talk
over this sad business. What can equal the folly of our two relations?'
I could not answer, but I believe my looks spoke. She felt reproved.
Sometimes how quick to feel! With a graver look and voice she then
added, 'I do not mean to defend Henry at your sister's expense.' So
she began, but how she went on, Fanny, is not fit, is hardly fit to be
repeated to you. I cannot recall all her words. I would not dwell upon
them if I could. Their substance was great anger at the _folly_ of each.
She reprobated her brother's folly in being drawn on by a woman whom he
had never cared for, to do what must lose him the woman he adored; but
still more the folly of poor Maria, in sacrificing such a situation,
plunging into such difficulties, under the idea of being really loved
by a man who had long ago made his indifference clear. Guess what I must
have felt. To hear the woman whom--no harsher name than folly given!
So voluntarily, so freely, so coolly to canvass it! No reluctance, no
horror, no feminine, shall I say, no modest loathings? This is what the
world does. For where, Fanny, shall we find a woman whom nature had so
richly endowed? Spoilt, spoilt!"

After a little reflection, he went on with a sort of desperate calmness.
"I will tell you everything, and then have done for ever. She saw it
only as folly, and that folly stamped only by exposure. The want of
common discretion, of caution: his going down to Richmond for the whole
time of her being at Twickenham; her putting herself in the power of
a servant