Edmund Bertram's Diary Read Free Page A

poor cousin has probably none at al .’
    ‘But I must tel you another thing of Fanny, so odd and so stupid,’ said Maria. ‘Do you know, she says she does not want to learn either music or drawing.’
    ‘To be sure, my dear, that is very stupid indeed, and shows a great want of genius and emulation,’ returned Aunt Norris. ‘But, al things considered, I do not know whether it is not as wel that it should be so, for, though you know (owing to me) your Papa and Mama are so good as to bring her up with you, it is not at al necessary that she should be as accomplished as you are. On the contrary, it is much more desirable that there should be a dif erence.’
    ‘I believe Fanny wil like music and drawing wel enough once she knows more about them,’ I said, unwil ing to have Maria and Julia encouraged to slight her. ‘She has not had a chance to study them so far, that is al , and so she does not yet understand their worth. Do you not think so?’ I asked Mama.
    ‘You must ask your father, Edmund. He wil know. See what Sir Thomas thinks,’ returned Mama placidly.
    I was disheartened, as I had hoped she would join her voice to mine, but at least my words curbed my sisters’ contempt enough to make them conceal it from Fanny. I would not like to find her in tears again, for she is so smal and thin she looks as though she could hardly stand it. Tom was an unexpected al y, for he said he saw no harm in her and he was sure she would grow up to be perfectly charming, then teased Maria and Julia by saying that they should emulate Fanny’s gratitude, or he would not bring them any more presents. Monday 18 August
    We heard this morning that the rector of Thornton Lacey had died. Papa cal ed me into his study and gave me the news, then told me that he intended to give the living to Mr. Arnold, who wil hold it for me until I am of an age to take it myself, if I so wish. He asked me if I had given any more thought to my future, and I confessed that I had not.
    ‘No matter. The living of Thornton Lacey wil be held for you anyway and you may take it or not as you please when you are older. It is not the best living in my gift, for that, of course, is Mansfield, but in the ful ness of time, that, too, wil belong to you. Now, tel me of your studies, and of what you like to do.’
    He listened as I told him about my progress at school, and asked me several judicious questions, and then I was free to go.
    I went out to the stables and found Tom. Before long, we were riding out towards the woods.
    ‘So Papa was asking you about your choice of profession? I am glad I do not have to make any similar decisions, for I would have no idea what to do if I could not run riot with my friends. I wish Jarvey were here, though perhaps it is better he is not, for he is always wanting to be doing something, and today it is too hot to do anything more than ride in the shade and dream of pretty girls.’
    We went home with a hearty appetite and I finished my dinner with three slices of apple tart. Julia cal ed me greedy, but Aunt Norris said that Tom and I were growing boys and that she liked to see a healthy appetite.
    Thursday 21 August
    I was walking through the park this afternoon when I saw little Fanny returning from the rectory with a large basket. It was far too heavy for a girl of her size and strength, for she was leaning over to one side in an ef ort to balance the weight, and she was perspiring profusely. Her breathing was shal ow as I approached her, and I was concerned for her health.
    ‘Here,’ I said, taking her basket, ‘you must let me carry that. Whatever possessed you to go out in such heat, without a hat, and to carry such a heavy load?’
    ‘Mrs. Norris wanted her work basket and had left it at the rectory,’ she said timidly.
    ‘You should not have offered to fetch it for her. You are not strong enough,’ I said. She looked awkward, and I guessed that she had not offered, but that my aunt had sent her.
    ‘Let us sit