Murder at Mansfield Park

sir,’ said Dr Grant. ‘And what have you decided upon?’
    ‘It is to be Lovers’ Vows .’
    ‘Indeed,’ said Dr Grant, who had once attended a performance in London. ‘That is not the play I would have chosen for a private theatre.’
    ‘Now, Dr Grant, do not be disagreeable,’ said his wife. ‘Nobody loves a play better than you do. And are you to act, Miss Price?’ she continued, taking a seat next to her
by the fire.
    ‘I am to play Agatha,’ replied Miss Price with happy complacency.
    ‘And I take Frederick,’ said Mr Rushworth carelessly. ‘I was equally willing to have the Baron, but the others pressed me so hard, insisting that the whole play would be
indescribably the weaker unless I should undertake it, that at the last I agreed to take it on, merely to be obliging.’
    ‘I see,’ replied Dr Grant, in a heavy tone. ‘In that case, I must tell you, sir, that I think it exceedingly improper, in the circumstances, for you to act with Miss
Price.’
    ‘You must excuse me, sir, but I cannot agree,’ said Mr Rushworth peremptorily. ‘We shall, of course, shorten some of the speeches, and so forth, but otherwise I can see no
objection on the grounds of propriety. The play has been staged in many respectable private theatres—indeed, I saw it put on at Pemberley only last year, though their cast was
infinitely inferior to our own, even if I do say so myself.’
    ‘That may be,’ said Dr Grant heavily, ‘but my opinion remains the same. I think certain scenes in this play wholly unfit for private representation.’
    ‘Do not act any thing improper, Fanny,’ said Lady Bertram, who had heard some part of their conversation from her position on the sopha. ‘Sir Thomas would not like
it.’
    ‘I hope you will never have cause to reprove my conduct, Lady Bertram,’ said Fanny, modestly. ‘I am sure you never have before.’
    ‘Well, I have no such fears, sir, and no scruples worth the name,’ said Mr Rushworth, severely displeased with the clergyman’s interference. ‘If we are so very
nice, we shall never act any thing, and I could not wish for a finer début for my little theatre at Sotherton.’
    ‘I was just about to say the very same thing,’ said Mrs Norris, looking angrily at Dr Grant. ‘I do not know this particular play myself, but as Edmund is to act too, there can
be no harm. I think I may answer for my own son, and I will venture to do the same for Sir Thomas. I only wish Mr Rushworth had known his own mind when the scene painter began, for there was
the loss of half a day’s work on trees and clouds, when what we want now is cottages and alehouses.’
    ‘Pray excuse me, madam, but in this matter it is Miss Price who is to lead,’ replied Dr Grant, turning to Fanny. ‘You might simply say that, on examining the part of
Agatha, you feel yourself unequal to it. That will be quite enough. The part will be made over to Miss Bertram or to Mary, and your delicacy honoured as it ought.’
    This picture of her own consequence had some effect, and for a moment Miss Price hesitated; but it was only for a moment. ‘Why, Dr Grant, that cannot be,’ she replied sweetly, with a
glance across at Mary, ‘for Miss Crawford already has a part of her own. She is to be Amelia. Do you know the play, Miss Crawford?’ she continued, rising and approaching Mary’s
chair. ‘I would be very happy to lend you my copy. I am sure you will find it instructive; especially the third act, where you will find a scene which will interest you most
particularly.’
    Mary had never seen Lovers’ Vows , but she knew enough of Miss Price to know that whatever her meaning, there could be no kindness intended to her in the remark. But Mr
Rushworth having need, at that moment, of Miss Price’s advice on the subject of his dress, Mary was able to take up the book and retire to a seat next to Henry, who had likewise been perusing
the play with no little curiosity.
    ‘I am to be Count Cassel, I find,’ he said gloomily. ‘And, as such, to play the part of your suitor, my dear Mary. Knowing that we are to act together is the only piece of
enjoyment I foresee in the entire business. This Count is a complete buffoon—nothing but empty-headed foolishness from beginning to end. Upon my word,’ he continued in an undertone,
‘we have made a pretty blunder in our casting of this confounded play! Here am I playing Count Cassel, a man who is “ rich, and of great consequence ”, two