Murder at Mansfield Park

than her little cousin in Cumberland. One might have imagined Mrs Price to have enjoyed a regular and intimate intercourse with her sisters at Mansfield during
this interesting period, but her husband’s family had done all in their power to discourage any thing more than common civility, and despite Mrs Norris’s sanguine expectations of being
‘every year at Lessingby’, and being introduced to a host of great personages, no such invitation was ever forthcoming. Mrs Price’s sudden death led to an even greater distance
between the families, and when news finally reached Mansfield that young Mr Price had fallen victim to a nervous seizure on his journey back to England—intelligence his parents had not seen
fit to impart themselves—Mrs Norris could not be satisfied without writing to the Prices, and giving vent to all the anger and resentment that she had pent up in her own mind since her
sister’s marriage. Had Sir Thomas known of her intentions, an absolute rupture might have been prevented, but as it was the Prices felt fully justified in putting an end to all communication
between the families for a considerable interval.
    One can only imagine the mortifying sensations that Sir Thomas must have endured at such a time, but all private feelings were soon swallowed up by a more public grief. Mr Norris, long troubled
by an indifferent state of health, brought on apoplexy and death by drinking a whole bottle of claret in the course of a single evening. There were some who said that a long-standing habit of
self-indulgence had lately grown much worse from his having to endure daily harangues from his wife at her ill-treatment by the Prices, but whatever the truth of this, it is certain that no such
rumour ever came to Mrs Norris’s ear. She, for her part, was left only with a large income and a spacious house, and consoled herself for the loss of her husband by considering that she could
do very well without him, and for the loss of an invalid to nurse by the acquisition of a son to bring up.
    At Mansfield Park a son and a daughter successively entered the world, and as the years passed, Sir Thomas contrived to maintain a regular if unfrequent correspondence with his brother-in-law,
Mr Price, in which he learned of little Fanny’s progress with much complacency. But when the girl was a few months short of her twelfth birthday, Sir Thomas, in place of his usual
communication from Cumberland, received instead a letter in a lawyer’s hand, conveying the sorrowful information that Mr and Mrs Price had both succumbed to a putrid fever, and in the next
sentence, beseeching Sir Thomas, as the child’s uncle, and only relation, to take the whole charge of her. Sir Thomas was a man of honour and principle, and not insensible to the claims of
duty and the ties of blood, but such an undertaking was not to be lightly engaged in; not, at least, without consulting his wife. Lady Bertram was a woman of very tranquil feelings, guided in every
thing important by Sir Thomas, and in smaller day-to-day concerns by her sister. Knowing as he did Mrs Norris’s generous concern for the wants of others, Sir Thomas elected to bring the
subject forward as they were sitting together at the tea-table, where Mrs Norris was presiding. He gave the ladies the particulars of the letter in his usual measured and dignified manner,
concluding with the observation that ‘after due consideration, and examining this distressing circumstance in all its particulars, I firmly believe that I have no other alternative but to
accede to this lawyer’s request and bring Fanny to live with us here, at Mansfield Park. I hope, my dear, that you will also see it in the same judicious light.’
    Lady Bertram agreed with him instantly. ‘I think we cannot do better,’ said she. ‘Let us send for her at once. Is she not my niece, and poor Frances’ orphan
child?’
    As for Mrs Norris, she had not a word to say. She saw decision in Sir Thomas’s looks, and her surprise and vexation required some moments’ silence to be settled into composure.
Instead of seeing her first, and beseeching her to try what her influence might do, Sir Thomas had shewn a very reasonable dependence on the nerves of his wife, and introduced the subject with no
more ceremony than he might have announced such common and indifferent news as their country neighbourhood usually furnished. Mrs Norris felt herself defrauded of an office, but there was comfort,