Murder at Mansfield Park

rousing
Lady Bertram to the necessity of presiding, gave her the opportunity to speak privately to Julia.
    ‘I hope you will soon receive more encouraging news from Cumberland,’ she said, regretting she could think of nothing more to the purpose, but relieved to see the girl’s face
lighten for a moment at her words.
    ‘It is very good of you to come. I have some satisfaction in knowing that Edmund will soon be at my father’s side—it will be such a relief to us all! As it is, we do not seem
to know what to do with ourselves. My aunt has been scolding me all morning about the needlework for Fanny’s wedding, but I can hardly see to sew.’
    At this, her eyes filled with tears once more, and she turned her face away and began to weep silently. Mary took her hand in her own, and offered her assistance, but it was not without a
wondering reflection that she might find herself helping to adorn wedding-clothes for the very woman who was to marry the man she herself loved.
    They drank their chocolate in heavy silence, until the stillness of the room was suddenly broken by the sound of violent screams from another part of the house. In a residence of such elegance,
tranquillity, and propriety, such a disturbance would have been unusual at any time, but doubly shocking in a house silenced by sorrow. Mary was on her feet in an instant, and going quickly to the
door she flung it open, and went to the foot of the staircase. There was no mistake; the noise was issuing from one of the rooms above, and the briefest of glances at the footmen was enough to
confirm that this was not the first burst of feeling from that quarter they had witnessed that day. Miss Price was giving vent to tumults of passionate hysterics, and although Mary could not
distinguish the words, it was clear that Mrs Norris was doing her utmost to comfort and quiet her. Mary was surprised, and not a little ashamed, wondering for a moment whether she had misjudged
Fanny, and formed an unjust estimate of her fondness for her uncle. She felt the indelicacy of listening unseen to such a private grief, and turned back towards the drawing-room, where Maria was
standing at the open door. Mary felt her face glow, as if she had been caught in the act of spying, but when she saw the expression of the young woman’s face she quickly forgot her own
embarrassment. She doubted if Maria was even aware of her presence; she was wrapped in her own meditations, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes unnaturally bright.
    ‘Are you quite well, Miss Bertram?’ Mary asked gently.
    Maria roused herself with some difficulty from her reverie. ‘Perfectly well, thank you, Miss Crawford,’ she said coolly. ‘As far as one can be, in such a situation.’
    Mary returned to the drawing-room to take her leave of the other ladies, and she was half way across the park before recollecting that she had not asked Julia what she had wished to discuss with
her at Compton: every other consideration had been swept away by the news from Cumberland. There was nothing to be done now but to return to the parsonage, and endeavour to find an opportunity to
speak to Julia the following day. The rain began to fall once more, and she quickened her pace, noticing, however, that there seemed to be a group of workmen with mattocks gathered around a man on
horseback, some distance away. The light was uncertain, but she thought she could discern the figure of her brother, and as she was drying herself in the vestibule, he came in behind her, dripping
with wet.
    ‘I have just been giving the men instructions to commence the felling of the avenue, and the digging of the channel for the new cascade,’ he said, as he shook out his coat.
‘How do they go on at the Park?’
    Mary sighed, and related the events of the afternoon, too preoccupied, perhaps, with her wet shoes to notice the look in his eye as she described what she had heard on the stairs. ‘I had
not expected her to be so affected,’ she concluded.
    ‘I suppose it rather depends what exactly she is affected by ,’ observed Henry, deep in his own thoughts.
    At that moment Mrs Grant appeared, armed with dry clothes, and the promise of hot tea and a good fire.
    ‘I hear there is still no news of Sir Thomas,’ she said. ‘Poor man! To be cut off at his time of life, when Lady Bertram depends on him so completely! But then again, I have no
doubt Mrs Norris will be more than ready to step forward, and supply his place. She