["[Event happened on 2024-01-01 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Sir Thomas was to return in November, and his eldest son had duties to\ncall him earlier home. The approach of September brought tidings of Mr.\nBertram, first in a letter to the gamekeeper and then in a letter\nto Edmund; and by the end of August he arrived himself, to be gay,\nagreeable, and gallant again as occasion served, or Miss Crawford\ndemanded; to tell of races and Weymouth, and parties and friends, to\nwhich she might have listened six weeks before with some interest, and\naltogether to give her the fullest conviction, by the power of actual\ncomparison, of her preferring his younger brother. It was very vexatious, and she was heartily sorry for it; but so it was;\nand so far from now meaning to marry the elder, she did not even want\nto attract him beyond what the simplest claims of conscious beauty\nrequired: his lengthened absence from Mansfield, without anything but\npleasure in view, and his own will to consult, made it perfectly clear\nthat he did not care about her; and his indifference was so much more\nthan equalled by her own, that were he now to step forth the owner of\nMansfield Park, the Sir Thomas complete, which he was to be in time, she\ndid not believe she could accept him. The season and duties which brought Mr. Bertram back to Mansfield took\nMr. Crawford into Norfolk. Everingham could not do without him in the\nbeginning of September. He went for a fortnight--a fortnight of such\ndullness to the Miss Bertrams as ought to have put them both on their\nguard, and made even Julia admit, in her jealousy of her sister, the\nabsolute necessity of distrusting his attentions, and wishing him not\nto return; and a fortnight of sufficient leisure, in the intervals of\nshooting and sleeping, to have convinced the gentleman that he ought\nto keep longer away, had he been more in the habit of examining his own\nmotives, and of reflecting to what the indulgence of his idle vanity was\ntending; but, thoughtless and selfish from prosperity and bad example,\nhe would not look beyond the present moment. The sisters, handsome,\nclever, and encouraging, were an amusement to his sated mind; and\nfinding nothing in Norfolk to equal the social pleasures of Mansfield,\nhe gladly returned to it at the time appointed, and was welcomed thither\nquite as gladly by those whom he came to trifle with further. Maria, with only Mr. Rushworth to attend to her, and doomed to the\nrepeated details of his day's sport, good or bad, his boast of his dogs,\nhis jealousy of his neighbours, his doubts of their qualifications,\nand his zeal after poachers, subjects which will not find their way to\nfemale feelings without some talent on one side or some attachment on\nthe other, had missed Mr. Crawford grievously; and Julia, unengaged and\nunemployed, felt all the right of missing him much more. Each sister\nbelieved herself the favourite. Julia might be justified in so doing by\nthe hints of Mrs. Grant, inclined to credit what she wished, and Maria\nby the hints of Mr. Crawford himself. Everything returned into the same\nchannel as before his absence; his manners being to each so animated and\nagreeable as to lose no ground with either, and just stopping short of\nthe consistence, the steadiness, the solicitude, and the warmth which\nmight excite general notice. Fanny was the only one of the party who found anything to dislike; but\nsince the day at Sotherton, she could never see Mr. Crawford with either\nsister without observation, and seldom without wonder or censure; and\nhad her confidence in her own judgment been equal to her exercise of it\nin every other respect, had she been sure that she was seeing clearly,\nand judging candidly, she would probably have made some important\ncommunications to her usual confidant. As it was, however, she only\nhazarded a hint, and the hint was lost. \"I am rather surprised,\" said\nshe, \"that Mr. Crawford should come back again so soon, after being here\nso long before, full seven weeks; for I had understood he was so\nvery fond of change and moving about, that I thought something would\ncertainly occur, when he was once gone, to take him elsewhere. He is\nused to much gayer places than Mansfield.\" \"It is to his credit,\" was Edmund's answer; \"and I dare say it gives his\nsister pleasure. She does not like his unsettled habits.\" \"What a favourite he is with my cousins!\" \"Yes, his manners to women are such as must please. Mrs. Grant, I\nbelieve, suspects him of a preference for Julia; I have never seen much\nsymptom of it, but I wish it may be so. He has no faults but what a\nserious attachment would remove.\" \"If Miss Bertram were not engaged,\" said Fanny cautiously, \"I could\nsometimes almost think that he admired her more than Julia.\" \"Which is, perhaps, more in favour of his liking Julia best, than you,\nFanny, may be aware; for I believe it often happens that a man, before\nhe has quite made up his own mind, will distinguish the sister or\nintimate friend of the woman he is really thinking of more than the\nwoman herself. Crawford has too much sense to stay here if he found\nhimself in any danger from Maria; and I am not at all afraid for her,\nafter such a proof as she has given that her feelings are not strong.\" Fanny supposed she must have been mistaken, and meant to think\ndifferently in future; but with all that submission to Edmund could\ndo, and all the help of the coinciding looks and hints which she\noccasionally noticed in some of the others, and which seemed to say that\nJulia was Mr. Crawford's choice, she knew not always what to think. She\nwas privy, one evening, to the hopes of her aunt Norris on the subject,\nas well as to her feelings, and the feelings of Mrs. Rushworth, on a\npoint of some similarity, and could not help wondering as she listened;\nand glad would she have been not to be obliged to listen, for it was\nwhile all the other young people were dancing, and she sitting,\nmost unwillingly, among the chaperons at the fire, longing for the\nre-entrance of her elder cousin, on whom all her own hopes of a partner\nthen depended. It was Fanny's first ball, though without the preparation\nor splendour of many a young lady's first ball, being the thought only\nof the afternoon, built on the late acquisition of a violin player in\nthe servants' hall, and the possibility of raising five couple with\nthe help of Mrs. Grant and a new intimate friend of Mr. Bertram's just\narrived on a visit. It had, however, been a very happy one to Fanny\nthrough four dances, and she was quite grieved to be losing even a\nquarter of an hour. While waiting and wishing, looking now at\nthe dancers and now at the door, this dialogue between the two\nabove-mentioned ladies was forced on her--\n\n\"I think, ma'am,\" said Mrs. Norris, her eyes directed towards Mr.\nRushworth and Maria, who were partners for the second time, \"we shall\nsee some happy faces again now.\" \"Yes, ma'am, indeed,\" replied the other, with a stately simper, \"there\nwill be some satisfaction in looking on _now_, and I think it was rather\na pity they should have been obliged to part. Young folks in their\nsituation should be excused complying with the common forms. I wonder my\nson did not propose it.\" \"I dare say he did, ma'am. Mr. Rushworth is never remiss. But dear Maria\nhas such a strict sense of propriety, so much of that true delicacy\nwhich one seldom meets with nowadays, Mrs. Rushworth--that wish of\navoiding particularity! Dear ma'am, only look at her face at this\nmoment; how different from what it was the two last dances!\" Miss Bertram did indeed look happy, her eyes were sparkling with\npleasure, and she was speaking with great animation, for Julia and her\npartner, Mr. Crawford, were close to her; they were all in a cluster\ntogether. How she had looked before, Fanny could not recollect, for she\nhad been dancing with Edmund herself, and had not thought about her. Mrs. Norris continued, \"It is quite delightful, ma'am, to see young\npeople so properly happy, so well suited, and so much the thing! I\ncannot but think of dear Sir Thomas's delight. And what do you say,\nma'am, to the chance of another match? Mr. Rushworth has set a good\nexample, and such things are very catching.\" Mrs. Rushworth, who saw nothing but her son, was quite at a loss. \"The couple above, ma'am. Do you see no symptoms there?\" \"Oh dear! Miss Julia and Mr. Crawford. Yes, indeed, a very pretty match. What is his property?\" \"Four thousand a year.\" \"Very well. Those who have not more must be satisfied with what they\nhave.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-01, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-03 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Four thousand a year is a pretty estate, and he seems a very\ngenteel, steady young man, so I hope Miss Julia will be very happy.\" \"It is not a settled thing, ma'am, yet. We only speak of it among\nfriends. But I have very little doubt it _will_ be. He is growing\nextremely particular in his attentions.\" Fanny could listen no farther. Listening and wondering were all\nsuspended for a time, for Mr. Bertram was in the room again; and though\nfeeling it would be a great honour to be asked by him, she thought it\nmust happen. He came towards their little circle; but instead of asking\nher to dance, drew a chair near her, and gave her an account of the\npresent state of a sick horse, and the opinion of the groom, from\nwhom he had just parted. Fanny found that it was not to be, and in the\nmodesty of her nature immediately felt that she had been unreasonable\nin expecting it. When he had told of his horse, he took a newspaper from\nthe table, and looking over it, said in a languid way, \"If you want to\ndance, Fanny, I will stand up with you.\" With more than equal civility\nthe offer was declined; she did not wish to dance. \"I am glad of it,\"\nsaid he, in a much brisker tone, and throwing down the newspaper again,\n\"for I am tired to death. I only wonder how the good people can keep\nit up so long. They had need be _all_ in love, to find any amusement in\nsuch folly; and so they are, I fancy. If you look at them you may see\nthey are so many couple of lovers--all but Yates and Mrs. Grant--and,\nbetween ourselves, she, poor woman, must want a lover as much as any one\nof them. A desperate dull life hers must be with the doctor,\" making\na sly face as he spoke towards the chair of the latter, who proving,\nhowever, to be close at his elbow, made so instantaneous a change of\nexpression and subject necessary, as Fanny, in spite of everything,\ncould hardly help laughing at. \"A strange business this in America, Dr.\nGrant! What is your opinion? I always come to you to know what I am to\nthink of public matters.\" \"My dear Tom,\" cried his aunt soon afterwards, \"as you are not dancing,\nI dare say you will have no objection to join us in a rubber; shall\nyou?\" Then leaving her seat, and coming to him to enforce the proposal,\nadded in a whisper, \"We want to make a table for Mrs. Rushworth, you\nknow. Your mother is quite anxious about it, but cannot very well spare\ntime to sit down herself, because of her fringe. Now, you and I and Dr.\nGrant will just do; and though _we_ play but half-crowns, you know, you\nmay bet half-guineas with _him_.\" \"I should be most happy,\" replied he aloud, and jumping up with\nalacrity, \"it would give me the greatest pleasure; but that I am\nthis moment going to dance.\" Come, Fanny, taking her hand, \"do not be\ndawdling any longer, or the dance will be over.\" Fanny was led off very willingly, though it was impossible for her to\nfeel much gratitude towards her cousin, or distinguish, as he certainly\ndid, between the selfishness of another person and his own. \"A pretty modest request upon my word,\" he indignantly exclaimed as they\nwalked away. \"To want to nail me to a card-table for the next two hours\nwith herself and Dr. Grant, who are always quarrelling, and that poking\nold woman, who knows no more of whist than of algebra. I wish my good\naunt would be a little less busy! And to ask me in such a way too! without ceremony, before them all, so as to leave me no possibility\nof refusing. _That_ is what I dislike most particularly. It raises my\nspleen more than anything, to have the pretence of being asked, of\nbeing given a choice, and at the same time addressed in such a way as\nto oblige one to do the very thing, whatever it be! If I had not luckily\nthought of standing up with you I could not have got out of it. It is\na great deal too bad. But when my aunt has got a fancy in her head,\nnothing can stop her.\" The Honourable John Yates, this new friend, had not much to recommend\nhim beyond habits of fashion and expense, and being the younger son of\na lord with a tolerable independence; and Sir Thomas would probably\nhave thought his introduction at Mansfield by no means desirable. Mr.\nBertram's acquaintance with him had begun at Weymouth, where they had\nspent ten days together in the same society, and the friendship, if\nfriendship it might be called, had been proved and perfected by Mr.\nYates's being invited to take Mansfield in his way, whenever he could,\nand by his promising to come; and he did come rather earlier than had\nbeen expected, in consequence of the sudden breaking-up of a large party\nassembled for gaiety at the house of another friend, which he had left\nWeymouth to join. He came on the wings of disappointment, and with his\nhead full of acting, for it had been a theatrical party; and the play\nin which he had borne a part was within two days of representation,\nwhen the sudden death of one of the nearest connexions of the family\nhad destroyed the scheme and dispersed the performers. To be so near\nhappiness, so near fame, so near the long paragraph in praise of the\nprivate theatricals at Ecclesford, the seat of the Right Hon. Lord\nRavenshaw, in Cornwall, which would of course have immortalised the\nwhole party for at least a twelvemonth! and being so near, to lose\nit all, was an injury to be keenly felt, and Mr. Yates could talk of\nnothing else. Ecclesford and its theatre, with its arrangements and\ndresses, rehearsals and jokes, was his never-failing subject, and to\nboast of the past his only consolation. Happily for him, a love of the theatre is so general, an itch for acting\nso strong among young people, that he could hardly out-talk the interest\nof his hearers. From the first casting of the parts to the epilogue it\nwas all bewitching, and there were few who did not wish to have been a\nparty concerned, or would have hesitated to try their skill. The play\nhad been Lovers' Vows, and Mr. Yates was to have been Count Cassel. \"A\ntrifling part,\" said he, \"and not at all to my taste, and such a one\nas I certainly would not accept again; but I was determined to make no\ndifficulties. Lord Ravenshaw and the duke had appropriated the only two\ncharacters worth playing before I reached Ecclesford; and though Lord\nRavenshaw offered to resign his to me, it was impossible to take it, you\nknow. I was sorry for _him_ that he should have so mistaken his powers,\nfor he was no more equal to the Baron--a little man with a weak voice,\nalways hoarse after the first ten minutes. It must have injured the\npiece materially; but _I_ was resolved to make no difficulties. Sir\nHenry thought the duke not equal to Frederick, but that was because\nSir Henry wanted the part himself; whereas it was certainly in the best\nhands of the two. I was surprised to see Sir Henry such a stick. Luckily\nthe strength of the piece did not depend upon him. Our Agatha was\ninimitable, and the duke was thought very great by many. And upon the\nwhole, it would certainly have gone off wonderfully.\" \"It was a hard case, upon my word\"; and, \"I do think you were very much\nto be pitied,\" were the kind responses of listening sympathy. \"It is not worth complaining about; but to be sure the poor old dowager\ncould not have died at a worse time; and it is impossible to help\nwishing that the news could have been suppressed for just the three days\nwe wanted. It was but three days; and being only a grandmother, and all\nhappening two hundred miles off, I think there would have been no great\nharm, and it was suggested, I know; but Lord Ravenshaw, who I suppose is\none of the most correct men in England, would not hear of it.\" \"An afterpiece instead of a comedy,\" said Mr. Bertram. \"Lovers' Vows\nwere at an end, and Lord and Lady Ravenshaw left to act My Grandmother\nby themselves. Well, the jointure may comfort _him_; and perhaps,\nbetween friends, he began to tremble for his credit and his lungs in the\nBaron, and was not sorry to withdraw; and to make _you_ amends, Yates, I\nthink we must raise a little theatre at Mansfield, and ask you to be our\nmanager.\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-03, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-05 The user is reading a book]\n<User> This, though the thought of the moment, did not end with the moment; for\nthe inclination to act was awakened, and in no one more strongly than in\nhim who was now master of the house; and who, having so much leisure as\nto make almost any novelty a certain good, had likewise such a degree of\nlively talents and comic taste, as were exactly adapted to the novelty\nof acting. The thought returned again and again. \"Oh for the Ecclesford\ntheatre and scenery to try something with.\" Each sister could echo the\nwish; and Henry Crawford, to whom, in all the riot of his gratifications\nit was yet an untasted pleasure, was quite alive at the idea. \"I really\nbelieve,\" said he, \"I could be fool enough at this moment to undertake\nany character that ever was written, from Shylock or Richard III down to\nthe singing hero of a farce in his scarlet coat and cocked hat. I feel\nas if I could be anything or everything; as if I could rant and storm,\nor sigh or cut capers, in any tragedy or comedy in the English language. Let us be doing something. Be it only half a play, an act, a scene; what\nshould prevent us? Not these countenances, I am sure,\" looking towards\nthe Miss Bertrams; \"and for a theatre, what signifies a theatre? We\nshall be only amusing ourselves. Any room in this house might suffice.\" \"We must have a curtain,\" said Tom Bertram; \"a few yards of green baize\nfor a curtain, and perhaps that may be enough.\" \"Oh, quite enough,\" cried Mr. Yates, \"with only just a side wing or two\nrun up, doors in flat, and three or four scenes to be let down; nothing\nmore would be necessary on such a plan as this. For mere amusement among\nourselves we should want nothing more.\" \"I believe we must be satisfied with _less_,\" said Maria. \"There would\nnot be time, and other difficulties would arise. We must rather adopt\nMr. Crawford's views, and make the _performance_, not the _theatre_, our\nobject. Many parts of our best plays are independent of scenery.\" \"Nay,\" said Edmund, who began to listen with alarm. \"Let us do nothing\nby halves. If we are to act, let it be in a theatre completely fitted\nup with pit, boxes, and gallery, and let us have a play entire from\nbeginning to end; so as it be a German play, no matter what, with a good\ntricking, shifting afterpiece, and a figure-dance, and a hornpipe, and a\nsong between the acts. If we do not outdo Ecclesford, we do nothing.\" \"Now, Edmund, do not be disagreeable,\" said Julia. \"Nobody loves a play\nbetter than you do, or can have gone much farther to see one.\" \"True, to see real acting, good hardened real acting; but I would hardly\nwalk from this room to the next to look at the raw efforts of those who\nhave not been bred to the trade: a set of gentlemen and ladies, who have\nall the disadvantages of education and decorum to struggle through.\" After a short pause, however, the subject still continued, and was\ndiscussed with unabated eagerness, every one's inclination increasing\nby the discussion, and a knowledge of the inclination of the rest; and\nthough nothing was settled but that Tom Bertram would prefer a comedy,\nand his sisters and Henry Crawford a tragedy, and that nothing in the\nworld could be easier than to find a piece which would please them all,\nthe resolution to act something or other seemed so decided as to\nmake Edmund quite uncomfortable. He was determined to prevent it, if\npossible, though his mother, who equally heard the conversation which\npassed at table, did not evince the least disapprobation. The same evening afforded him an opportunity of trying his strength. Maria, Julia, Henry Crawford, and Mr. Yates were in the billiard-room. Tom, returning from them into the drawing-room, where Edmund was\nstanding thoughtfully by the fire, while Lady Bertram was on the sofa at\na little distance, and Fanny close beside her arranging her work, thus\nbegan as he entered--\"Such a horribly vile billiard-table as ours is not\nto be met with, I believe, above ground. I can stand it no longer, and I\nthink, I may say, that nothing shall ever tempt me to it again; but one\ngood thing I have just ascertained: it is the very room for a theatre,\nprecisely the shape and length for it; and the doors at the farther\nend, communicating with each other, as they may be made to do in five\nminutes, by merely moving the bookcase in my father's room, is the very\nthing we could have desired, if we had sat down to wish for it; and\nmy father's room will be an excellent greenroom. It seems to join the\nbilliard-room on purpose.\" \"You are not serious, Tom, in meaning to act?\" said Edmund, in a low\nvoice, as his brother approached the fire. \"Not serious! never more so, I assure you. What is there to surprise you\nin it?\" \"I think it would be very wrong. In a _general_ light, private\ntheatricals are open to some objections, but as _we_ are circumstanced,\nI must think it would be highly injudicious, and more than injudicious\nto attempt anything of the kind. It would shew great want of feeling\non my father's account, absent as he is, and in some degree of constant\ndanger; and it would be imprudent, I think, with regard to Maria, whose\nsituation is a very delicate one, considering everything, extremely\ndelicate.\" \"You take up a thing so seriously! as if we were going to act three\ntimes a week till my father's return, and invite all the country. But\nit is not to be a display of that sort. We mean nothing but a little\namusement among ourselves, just to vary the scene, and exercise our\npowers in something new. We want no audience, no publicity. We may be\ntrusted, I think, in chusing some play most perfectly unexceptionable;\nand I can conceive no greater harm or danger to any of us in conversing\nin the elegant written language of some respectable author than in\nchattering in words of our own. I have no fears and no scruples. And\nas to my father's being absent, it is so far from an objection, that I\nconsider it rather as a motive; for the expectation of his return must\nbe a very anxious period to my mother; and if we can be the means of\namusing that anxiety, and keeping up her spirits for the next few weeks,\nI shall think our time very well spent, and so, I am sure, will he. It\nis a _very_ anxious period for her.\" As he said this, each looked towards their mother. Lady Bertram, sunk\nback in one corner of the sofa, the picture of health, wealth, ease,\nand tranquillity, was just falling into a gentle doze, while Fanny was\ngetting through the few difficulties of her work for her. Edmund smiled and shook his head. \"By Jove! this won't do,\" cried Tom, throwing himself into a chair with\na hearty laugh. \"To be sure, my dear mother, your anxiety--I was unlucky\nthere.\" \"What is the matter?\" asked her ladyship, in the heavy tone of one\nhalf-roused; \"I was not asleep.\" \"Oh dear, no, ma'am, nobody suspected you! Well, Edmund,\" he continued,\nreturning to the former subject, posture, and voice, as soon as Lady\nBertram began to nod again, \"but _this_ I _will_ maintain, that we shall\nbe doing no harm.\" \"I cannot agree with you; I am convinced that my father would totally\ndisapprove it.\" \"And I am convinced to the contrary. Nobody is fonder of the exercise\nof talent in young people, or promotes it more, than my father, and for\nanything of the acting, spouting, reciting kind, I think he has always a\ndecided taste. I am sure he encouraged it in us as boys. How many a time\nhave we mourned over the dead body of Julius Caesar, and to _be'd_ and\nnot _to_ _be'd_, in this very room, for his amusement? And I am sure,\n_my_ _name_ _was_ _Norval_, every evening of my life through one\nChristmas holidays.\" \"It was a very different thing. You must see the difference yourself. My\nfather wished us, as schoolboys, to speak well, but he would never\nwish his grown-up daughters to be acting plays. His sense of decorum is\nstrict.\" \"I know all that,\" said Tom, displeased. \"I know my father as well as\nyou do; and I'll take care that his daughters do nothing to distress\nhim. Manage your own concerns, Edmund, and I'll take care of the rest of\nthe family.\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-05, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-06 The user is reading a book]\n<User> \"If you are resolved on acting,\" replied the persevering Edmund, \"I must\nhope it will be in a very small and quiet way; and I think a theatre\nought not to be attempted. It would be taking liberties with my father's\nhouse in his absence which could not be justified.\" \"For everything of that nature I will be answerable,\" said Tom, in a\ndecided tone. \"His house shall not be hurt. I have quite as great an\ninterest in being careful of his house as you can have; and as to such\nalterations as I was suggesting just now, such as moving a bookcase, or\nunlocking a door, or even as using the billiard-room for the space of a\nweek without playing at billiards in it, you might just as well suppose\nhe would object to our sitting more in this room, and less in the\nbreakfast-room, than we did before he went away, or to my sister's\npianoforte being moved from one side of the room to the other. Absolute\nnonsense!\" \"The innovation, if not wrong as an innovation, will be wrong as an\nexpense.\" \"Yes, the expense of such an undertaking would be prodigious! Perhaps\nit might cost a whole twenty pounds. Something of a theatre we must have\nundoubtedly, but it will be on the simplest plan: a green curtain and a\nlittle carpenter's work, and that's all; and as the carpenter's work\nmay be all done at home by Christopher Jackson himself, it will be\ntoo absurd to talk of expense; and as long as Jackson is employed,\neverything will be right with Sir Thomas. Don't imagine that nobody in\nthis house can see or judge but yourself. Don't act yourself, if you do\nnot like it, but don't expect to govern everybody else.\" \"No, as to acting myself,\" said Edmund, \"_that_ I absolutely protest\nagainst.\" Tom walked out of the room as he said it, and Edmund was left to sit\ndown and stir the fire in thoughtful vexation. Fanny, who had heard it all, and borne Edmund company in every feeling\nthroughout the whole, now ventured to say, in her anxiety to suggest\nsome comfort, \"Perhaps they may not be able to find any play to suit\nthem. Your brother's taste and your sisters' seem very different.\" \"I have no hope there, Fanny. If they persist in the scheme, they will\nfind something. I shall speak to my sisters and try to dissuade _them_,\nand that is all I can do.\" \"I should think my aunt Norris would be on your side.\" \"I dare say she would, but she has no influence with either Tom or my\nsisters that could be of any use; and if I cannot convince them myself,\nI shall let things take their course, without attempting it through\nher. Family squabbling is the greatest evil of all, and we had better do\nanything than be altogether by the ears.\" His sisters, to whom he had an opportunity of speaking the next morning,\nwere quite as impatient of his advice, quite as unyielding to his\nrepresentation, quite as determined in the cause of pleasure, as Tom. Their mother had no objection to the plan, and they were not in the\nleast afraid of their father's disapprobation. There could be no harm in\nwhat had been done in so many respectable families, and by so many women\nof the first consideration; and it must be scrupulousness run mad that\ncould see anything to censure in a plan like theirs, comprehending only\nbrothers and sisters and intimate friends, and which would never be\nheard of beyond themselves. Julia _did_ seem inclined to admit that\nMaria's situation might require particular caution and delicacy--but\nthat could not extend to _her_--she was at liberty; and Maria evidently\nconsidered her engagement as only raising her so much more above\nrestraint, and leaving her less occasion than Julia to consult either\nfather or mother. Edmund had little to hope, but he was still urging the\nsubject when Henry Crawford entered the room, fresh from the Parsonage,\ncalling out, \"No want of hands in our theatre, Miss Bertram. No want\nof understrappers: my sister desires her love, and hopes to be admitted\ninto the company, and will be happy to take the part of any old duenna\nor tame confidante, that you may not like to do yourselves.\" Maria gave Edmund a glance, which meant, \"What say you now? Can we\nbe wrong if Mary Crawford feels the same?\" And Edmund, silenced,\nwas obliged to acknowledge that the charm of acting might well carry\nfascination to the mind of genius; and with the ingenuity of love, to\ndwell more on the obliging, accommodating purport of the message than on\nanything else. The scheme advanced. Opposition was vain; and as to Mrs. Norris, he\nwas mistaken in supposing she would wish to make any. She started no\ndifficulties that were not talked down in five minutes by her eldest\nnephew and niece, who were all-powerful with her; and as the whole\narrangement was to bring very little expense to anybody, and none at all\nto herself, as she foresaw in it all the comforts of hurry, bustle,\nand importance, and derived the immediate advantage of fancying herself\nobliged to leave her own house, where she had been living a month at\nher own cost, and take up her abode in theirs, that every hour might be\nspent in their service, she was, in fact, exceedingly delighted with the\nproject. Fanny seemed nearer being right than Edmund had supposed. The business\nof finding a play that would suit everybody proved to be no trifle; and\nthe carpenter had received his orders and taken his measurements, had\nsuggested and removed at least two sets of difficulties, and having made\nthe necessity of an enlargement of plan and expense fully evident, was\nalready at work, while a play was still to seek. Other preparations\nwere also in hand. An enormous roll of green baize had arrived from\nNorthampton, and been cut out by Mrs. Norris (with a saving by her good\nmanagement of full three-quarters of a yard), and was actually forming\ninto a curtain by the housemaids, and still the play was wanting; and\nas two or three days passed away in this manner, Edmund began almost to\nhope that none might ever be found. There were, in fact, so many things to be attended to, so many people\nto be pleased, so many best characters required, and, above all, such a\nneed that the play should be at once both tragedy and comedy, that there\ndid seem as little chance of a decision as anything pursued by youth and\nzeal could hold out. On the tragic side were the Miss Bertrams, Henry Crawford, and Mr.\nYates; on the comic, Tom Bertram, not _quite_ alone, because it was\nevident that Mary Crawford's wishes, though politely kept back, inclined\nthe same way: but his determinateness and his power seemed to make\nallies unnecessary; and, independent of this great irreconcilable\ndifference, they wanted a piece containing very few characters in the\nwhole, but every character first-rate, and three principal women. All\nthe best plays were run over in vain. Neither Hamlet, nor Macbeth, nor\nOthello, nor Douglas, nor The Gamester, presented anything that could\nsatisfy even the tragedians; and The Rivals, The School for Scandal,\nWheel of Fortune, Heir at Law, and a long et cetera, were successively\ndismissed with yet warmer objections. No piece could be proposed that\ndid not supply somebody with a difficulty, and on one side or the other\nit was a continual repetition of, \"Oh no, _that_ will never do! Let us\nhave no ranting tragedies. Too many characters. Not a tolerable\nwoman's part in the play. Anything but _that_, my dear Tom. It would be\nimpossible to fill it up. One could not expect anybody to take such a\npart. Nothing but buffoonery from beginning to end. _That_ might do,\nperhaps, but for the low parts. If I _must_ give my opinion, I have\nalways thought it the most insipid play in the English language. _I_ do\nnot wish to make objections; I shall be happy to be of any use, but I\nthink we could not chuse worse.\" Fanny looked on and listened, not unamused to observe the selfishness\nwhich, more or less disguised, seemed to govern them all, and wondering\nhow it would end. For her own gratification she could have wished that\nsomething might be acted, for she had never seen even half a play, but\neverything of higher consequence was against it. \"This will never do,\" said Tom Bertram at last. \"We are wasting time\nmost abominably. Something must be fixed on. No matter what, so that\nsomething is chosen. We must not be so nice. A few characters too many\nmust not frighten us. We must _double_ them. We must descend a little. If a part is insignificant, the greater our credit in making anything of\nit. From this moment I make no difficulties.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-06, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-09 The user is reading a book]\n<User> I take any part you chuse\nto give me, so as it be comic. Let it but be comic, I condition for\nnothing more.\" For about the fifth time he then proposed the Heir at Law, doubting only\nwhether to prefer Lord Duberley or Dr. Pangloss for himself; and very\nearnestly, but very unsuccessfully, trying to persuade the others that\nthere were some fine tragic parts in the rest of the dramatis personae. The pause which followed this fruitless effort was ended by the same\nspeaker, who, taking up one of the many volumes of plays that lay on the\ntable, and turning it over, suddenly exclaimed--\"Lovers' Vows! And why\nshould not Lovers' Vows do for _us_ as well as for the Ravenshaws? How\ncame it never to be thought of before? It strikes me as if it would do\nexactly. What say you all? Here are two capital tragic parts for Yates\nand Crawford, and here is the rhyming Butler for me, if nobody else\nwants it; a trifling part, but the sort of thing I should not dislike,\nand, as I said before, I am determined to take anything and do my best. And as for the rest, they may be filled up by anybody. It is only Count\nCassel and Anhalt.\" The suggestion was generally welcome. Everybody was growing weary of\nindecision, and the first idea with everybody was, that nothing had been\nproposed before so likely to suit them all. Mr. Yates was particularly\npleased: he had been sighing and longing to do the Baron at Ecclesford,\nhad grudged every rant of Lord Ravenshaw's, and been forced to re-rant\nit all in his own room. The storm through Baron Wildenheim was the\nheight of his theatrical ambition; and with the advantage of knowing\nhalf the scenes by heart already, he did now, with the greatest\nalacrity, offer his services for the part. To do him justice, however,\nhe did not resolve to appropriate it; for remembering that there was\nsome very good ranting-ground in Frederick, he professed an equal\nwillingness for that. Henry Crawford was ready to take either. Whichever\nMr. Yates did not chuse would perfectly satisfy him, and a short parley\nof compliment ensued. Miss Bertram, feeling all the interest of an\nAgatha in the question, took on her to decide it, by observing to Mr.\nYates that this was a point in which height and figure ought to\nbe considered, and that _his_ being the tallest, seemed to fit him\npeculiarly for the Baron. She was acknowledged to be quite right, and\nthe two parts being accepted accordingly, she was certain of the proper\nFrederick. Three of the characters were now cast, besides Mr. Rushworth,\nwho was always answered for by Maria as willing to do anything; when\nJulia, meaning, like her sister, to be Agatha, began to be scrupulous on\nMiss Crawford's account. \"This is not behaving well by the absent,\" said she. \"Here are not women\nenough. Amelia and Agatha may do for Maria and me, but here is nothing\nfor your sister, Mr. Crawford.\" Mr. Crawford desired _that_ might not be thought of: he was very sure\nhis sister had no wish of acting but as she might be useful, and that\nshe would not allow herself to be considered in the present case. But\nthis was immediately opposed by Tom Bertram, who asserted the part of\nAmelia to be in every respect the property of Miss Crawford, if she\nwould accept it. \"It falls as naturally, as necessarily to her,\"\nsaid he, \"as Agatha does to one or other of my sisters. It can be no\nsacrifice on their side, for it is highly comic.\" A short silence followed. Each sister looked anxious; for each felt the\nbest claim to Agatha, and was hoping to have it pressed on her by the\nrest. Henry Crawford, who meanwhile had taken up the play, and with\nseeming carelessness was turning over the first act, soon settled the\nbusiness. \"I must entreat Miss _Julia_ Bertram,\" said he, \"not to engage in the\npart of Agatha, or it will be the ruin of all my solemnity. You must\nnot, indeed you must not\" (turning to her). \"I could not stand your\ncountenance dressed up in woe and paleness. The many laughs we have had\ntogether would infallibly come across me, and Frederick and his knapsack\nwould be obliged to run away.\" Pleasantly, courteously, it was spoken; but the manner was lost in the\nmatter to Julia's feelings. She saw a glance at Maria which confirmed\nthe injury to herself: it was a scheme, a trick; she was slighted, Maria\nwas preferred; the smile of triumph which Maria was trying to suppress\nshewed how well it was understood; and before Julia could command\nherself enough to speak, her brother gave his weight against her too,\nby saying, \"Oh yes! Maria must be Agatha. Maria will be the best Agatha. Though Julia fancies she prefers tragedy, I would not trust her in it. There is nothing of tragedy about her. She has not the look of it. Her\nfeatures are not tragic features, and she walks too quick, and speaks\ntoo quick, and would not keep her countenance. She had better do the old\ncountrywoman: the Cottager's wife; you had, indeed, Julia. Cottager's\nwife is a very pretty part, I assure you. The old lady relieves the\nhigh-flown benevolence of her husband with a good deal of spirit. You\nshall be Cottager's wife.\" \"Cottager's wife!\" cried Mr. Yates. \"What are you talking of? The most\ntrivial, paltry, insignificant part; the merest commonplace; not a\ntolerable speech in the whole. Your sister do that! It is an insult\nto propose it. At Ecclesford the governess was to have done it. We\nall agreed that it could not be offered to anybody else. A little more\njustice, Mr. Manager, if you please. You do not deserve the office, if\nyou cannot appreciate the talents of your company a little better.\" \"Why, as to _that_, my good friend, till I and my company have really\nacted there must be some guesswork; but I mean no disparagement to\nJulia. We cannot have two Agathas, and we must have one Cottager's\nwife; and I am sure I set her the example of moderation myself in being\nsatisfied with the old Butler. If the part is trifling she will have\nmore credit in making something of it; and if she is so desperately bent\nagainst everything humorous, let her take Cottager's speeches instead of\nCottager's wife's, and so change the parts all through; _he_ is solemn\nand pathetic enough, I am sure. It could make no difference in the play,\nand as for Cottager himself, when he has got his wife's speeches, _I_\nwould undertake him with all my heart.\" \"With all your partiality for Cottager's wife,\" said Henry Crawford, \"it\nwill be impossible to make anything of it fit for your sister, and we\nmust not suffer her good-nature to be imposed on. We must not _allow_\nher to accept the part. She must not be left to her own complaisance. Her talents will be wanted in Amelia. Amelia is a character more\ndifficult to be well represented than even Agatha. I consider Amelia\nis the most difficult character in the whole piece. It requires great\npowers, great nicety, to give her playfulness and simplicity without\nextravagance. I have seen good actresses fail in the part. Simplicity,\nindeed, is beyond the reach of almost every actress by profession. It requires a delicacy of feeling which they have not. It requires a\ngentlewoman--a Julia Bertram. You _will_ undertake it, I hope?\" turning\nto her with a look of anxious entreaty, which softened her a little; but\nwhile she hesitated what to say, her brother again interposed with Miss\nCrawford's better claim. \"No, no, Julia must not be Amelia. It is not at all the part for her. She would not like it. She would not do well. She is too tall and\nrobust. Amelia should be a small, light, girlish, skipping figure. It is\nfit for Miss Crawford, and Miss Crawford only. She looks the part, and I\nam persuaded will do it admirably.\" Without attending to this, Henry Crawford continued his supplication. \"You must oblige us,\" said he, \"indeed you must. When you have studied\nthe character, I am sure you will feel it suit you. Tragedy may be your\nchoice, but it will certainly appear that comedy chuses _you_.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-09, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-12 The user is reading a book]\n<User> You\nwill be to visit me in prison with a basket of provisions; you will\nnot refuse to visit me in prison? I think I see you coming in with your\nbasket.\" The influence of his voice was felt. Julia wavered; but was he only\ntrying to soothe and pacify her, and make her overlook the previous\naffront? She distrusted him. The slight had been most determined. He\nwas, perhaps, but at treacherous play with her. She looked suspiciously\nat her sister; Maria's countenance was to decide it: if she were vexed\nand alarmed--but Maria looked all serenity and satisfaction, and Julia\nwell knew that on this ground Maria could not be happy but at her\nexpense. With hasty indignation, therefore, and a tremulous voice, she\nsaid to him, \"You do not seem afraid of not keeping your countenance\nwhen I come in with a basket of provisions--though one might have\nsupposed--but it is only as Agatha that I was to be so overpowering!\" She stopped--Henry Crawford looked rather foolish, and as if he did not\nknow what to say. Tom Bertram began again--\n\n\"Miss Crawford must be Amelia. She will be an excellent Amelia.\" \"Do not be afraid of _my_ wanting the character,\" cried Julia, with\nangry quickness: \"I am _not_ to be Agatha, and I am sure I will do\nnothing else; and as to Amelia, it is of all parts in the world the\nmost disgusting to me. I quite detest her. An odious, little, pert,\nunnatural, impudent girl. I have always protested against comedy, and\nthis is comedy in its worst form.\" And so saying, she walked hastily\nout of the room, leaving awkward feelings to more than one, but exciting\nsmall compassion in any except Fanny, who had been a quiet auditor of\nthe whole, and who could not think of her as under the agitations of\n_jealousy_ without great pity. A short silence succeeded her leaving them; but her brother soon\nreturned to business and Lovers' Vows, and was eagerly looking over\nthe play, with Mr. Yates's help, to ascertain what scenery would be\nnecessary--while Maria and Henry Crawford conversed together in an\nunder-voice, and the declaration with which she began of, \"I am sure I\nwould give up the part to Julia most willingly, but that though I shall\nprobably do it very ill, I feel persuaded _she_ would do it worse,\" was\ndoubtless receiving all the compliments it called for. When this had lasted some time, the division of the party was completed\nby Tom Bertram and Mr. Yates walking off together to consult farther in\nthe room now beginning to be called _the_ _Theatre_, and Miss Bertram's\nresolving to go down to the Parsonage herself with the offer of Amelia\nto Miss Crawford; and Fanny remained alone. The first use she made of her solitude was to take up the volume which\nhad been left on the table, and begin to acquaint herself with the play\nof which she had heard so much. Her curiosity was all awake, and she ran\nthrough it with an eagerness which was suspended only by intervals of\nastonishment, that it could be chosen in the present instance, that it\ncould be proposed and accepted in a private theatre! Agatha and Amelia\nappeared to her in their different ways so totally improper for home\nrepresentation--the situation of one, and the language of the other,\nso unfit to be expressed by any woman of modesty, that she could hardly\nsuppose her cousins could be aware of what they were engaging in; and\nlonged to have them roused as soon as possible by the remonstrance which\nEdmund would certainly make. Miss Crawford accepted the part very readily; and soon after Miss\nBertram's return from the Parsonage, Mr. Rushworth arrived, and another\ncharacter was consequently cast. He had the offer of Count Cassel\nand Anhalt, and at first did not know which to chuse, and wanted Miss\nBertram to direct him; but upon being made to understand the different\nstyle of the characters, and which was which, and recollecting that he\nhad once seen the play in London, and had thought Anhalt a very stupid\nfellow, he soon decided for the Count. Miss Bertram approved the\ndecision, for the less he had to learn the better; and though she could\nnot sympathise in his wish that the Count and Agatha might be to act\ntogether, nor wait very patiently while he was slowly turning over the\nleaves with the hope of still discovering such a scene, she very kindly\ntook his part in hand, and curtailed every speech that admitted being\nshortened; besides pointing out the necessity of his being very much\ndressed, and chusing his colours. Mr. Rushworth liked the idea of his\nfinery very well, though affecting to despise it; and was too much\nengaged with what his own appearance would be to think of the others,\nor draw any of those conclusions, or feel any of that displeasure which\nMaria had been half prepared for. Thus much was settled before Edmund, who had been out all the morning,\nknew anything of the matter; but when he entered the drawing-room before\ndinner, the buzz of discussion was high between Tom, Maria, and Mr.\nYates; and Mr. Rushworth stepped forward with great alacrity to tell him\nthe agreeable news. \"We have got a play,\" said he. \"It is to be Lovers' Vows; and I am to be\nCount Cassel, and am to come in first with a blue dress and a pink satin\ncloak, and afterwards am to have another fine fancy suit, by way of a\nshooting-dress. I do not know how I shall like it.\" Fanny's eyes followed Edmund, and her heart beat for him as she heard\nthis speech, and saw his look, and felt what his sensations must be. \"Lovers' Vows!\" in a tone of the greatest amazement, was his only reply\nto Mr. Rushworth, and he turned towards his brother and sisters as if\nhardly doubting a contradiction. \"Yes,\" cried Mr. Yates. \"After all our debatings and difficulties, we\nfind there is nothing that will suit us altogether so well, nothing so\nunexceptionable, as Lovers' Vows. The wonder is that it should not have\nbeen thought of before. My stupidity was abominable, for here we have\nall the advantage of what I saw at Ecclesford; and it is so useful to\nhave anything of a model! We have cast almost every part.\" \"But what do you do for women?\" said Edmund gravely, and looking at\nMaria. Maria blushed in spite of herself as she answered, \"I take the part\nwhich Lady Ravenshaw was to have done, and\" (with a bolder eye) \"Miss\nCrawford is to be Amelia.\" \"I should not have thought it the sort of play to be so easily filled\nup, with _us_,\" replied Edmund, turning away to the fire, where sat\nhis mother, aunt, and Fanny, and seating himself with a look of great\nvexation. Mr. Rushworth followed him to say, \"I come in three times, and have\ntwo-and-forty speeches. That's something, is not it? But I do not much\nlike the idea of being so fine. I shall hardly know myself in a blue\ndress and a pink satin cloak.\" Edmund could not answer him. In a few minutes Mr. Bertram was called\nout of the room to satisfy some doubts of the carpenter; and being\naccompanied by Mr. Yates, and followed soon afterwards by Mr. Rushworth,\nEdmund almost immediately took the opportunity of saying, \"I cannot,\nbefore Mr. Yates, speak what I feel as to this play, without reflecting\non his friends at Ecclesford; but I must now, my dear Maria, tell _you_,\nthat I think it exceedingly unfit for private representation, and that I\nhope you will give it up. I cannot but suppose you _will_ when you have\nread it carefully over. Read only the first act aloud to either your\nmother or aunt, and see how you can approve it. It will not be necessary\nto send you to your _father's_ judgment, I am convinced.\" \"We see things very differently,\" cried Maria. \"I am perfectly\nacquainted with the play, I assure you; and with a very few omissions,\nand so forth, which will be made, of course, I can see nothing\nobjectionable in it; and _I_ am not the _only_ young woman you find who\nthinks it very fit for private representation.\" \"I am sorry for it,\" was his answer; \"but in this matter it is _you_ who\nare to lead. _You_ must set the example. If others have blundered, it\nis your place to put them right, and shew them what true delicacy is. In all points of decorum _your_ conduct must be law to the rest of the\nparty.\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-12, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-13 The user is reading a book]\n<User> This picture of her consequence had some effect, for no one loved better\nto lead than Maria; and with far more good-humour she answered, \"I am\nmuch obliged to you, Edmund; you mean very well, I am sure: but I still\nthink you see things too strongly; and I really cannot undertake to\nharangue all the rest upon a subject of this kind. _There_ would be the\ngreatest indecorum, I think.\" \"Do you imagine that I could have such an idea in my head? No; let your\nconduct be the only harangue. Say that, on examining the part, you feel\nyourself unequal to it; that you find it requiring more exertion and\nconfidence than you can be supposed to have. Say this with firmness, and\nit will be quite enough. All who can distinguish will understand your\nmotive. The play will be given up, and your delicacy honoured as it\nought.\" \"Do not act anything improper, my dear,\" said Lady Bertram. \"Sir Thomas\nwould not like it.--Fanny, ring the bell; I must have my dinner.--To be\nsure, Julia is dressed by this time.\" \"I am convinced, madam,\" said Edmund, preventing Fanny, \"that Sir Thomas\nwould not like it.\" \"There, my dear, do you hear what Edmund says?\" \"If I were to decline the part,\" said Maria, with renewed zeal, \"Julia\nwould certainly take it.\" \"What!\" cried Edmund, \"if she knew your reasons!\" \"Oh! she might think the difference between us--the difference in our\nsituations--that _she_ need not be so scrupulous as _I_ might feel\nnecessary. I am sure she would argue so. No; you must excuse me; I\ncannot retract my consent; it is too far settled, everybody would be so\ndisappointed, Tom would be quite angry; and if we are so very nice, we\nshall never act anything.\" \"I was just going to say the very same thing,\" said Mrs. Norris. \"If every play is to be objected to, you will act nothing, and the\npreparations will be all so much money thrown away, and I am sure _that_\nwould be a discredit to us all. I do not know the play; but, as Maria\nsays, if there is anything a little too warm (and it is so with most of\nthem) it can be easily left out. We must not be over-precise, Edmund. As\nMr. Rushworth is to act too, there can be no harm. I only wish Tom had\nknown his own mind when the carpenters began, for there was the loss\nof half a day's work about those side-doors. The curtain will be a good\njob, however. The maids do their work very well, and I think we shall be\nable to send back some dozens of the rings. There is no occasion to put\nthem so very close together. I _am_ of some use, I hope, in preventing\nwaste and making the most of things. There should always be one\nsteady head to superintend so many young ones. I forgot to tell Tom of\nsomething that happened to me this very day. I had been looking about me\nin the poultry-yard, and was just coming out, when who should I see but\nDick Jackson making up to the servants' hall-door with two bits of deal\nboard in his hand, bringing them to father, you may be sure; mother had\nchanced to send him of a message to father, and then father had bid\nhim bring up them two bits of board, for he could not no how do without\nthem. I knew what all this meant, for the servants' dinner-bell\nwas ringing at the very moment over our heads; and as I hate such\nencroaching people (the Jacksons are very encroaching, I have always\nsaid so: just the sort of people to get all they can), I said to the boy\ndirectly (a great lubberly fellow of ten years old, you know, who ought\nto be ashamed of himself), '_I'll_ take the boards to your father, Dick,\nso get you home again as fast as you can.' The boy looked very silly,\nand turned away without offering a word, for I believe I might speak\npretty sharp; and I dare say it will cure him of coming marauding about\nthe house for one while. I hate such greediness--so good as your father\nis to the family, employing the man all the year round!\" Nobody was at the trouble of an answer; the others soon returned; and\nEdmund found that to have endeavoured to set them right must be his only\nsatisfaction. Dinner passed heavily. Mrs. Norris related again her triumph over Dick\nJackson, but neither play nor preparation were otherwise much talked\nof, for Edmund's disapprobation was felt even by his brother, though\nhe would not have owned it. Maria, wanting Henry Crawford's animating\nsupport, thought the subject better avoided. Mr. Yates, who was trying\nto make himself agreeable to Julia, found her gloom less impenetrable on\nany topic than that of his regret at her secession from their company;\nand Mr. Rushworth, having only his own part and his own dress in his\nhead, had soon talked away all that could be said of either. But the concerns of the theatre were suspended only for an hour or two:\nthere was still a great deal to be settled; and the spirits of evening\ngiving fresh courage, Tom, Maria, and Mr. Yates, soon after their being\nreassembled in the drawing-room, seated themselves in committee at a\nseparate table, with the play open before them, and were just getting\ndeep in the subject when a most welcome interruption was given by the\nentrance of Mr. and Miss Crawford, who, late and dark and dirty as it\nwas, could not help coming, and were received with the most grateful\njoy. \"Well, how do you go on?\" and \"What have you settled?\" and \"Oh! we\ncan do nothing without you,\" followed the first salutations; and Henry\nCrawford was soon seated with the other three at the table, while his\nsister made her way to Lady Bertram, and with pleasant attention was\ncomplimenting _her_. \"I must really congratulate your ladyship,\" said\nshe, \"on the play being chosen; for though you have borne it with\nexemplary patience, I am sure you must be sick of all our noise and\ndifficulties. The actors may be glad, but the bystanders must be\ninfinitely more thankful for a decision; and I do sincerely give you\njoy, madam, as well as Mrs. Norris, and everybody else who is in the\nsame predicament,\" glancing half fearfully, half slyly, beyond Fanny to\nEdmund. She was very civilly answered by Lady Bertram, but Edmund said nothing. His being only a bystander was not disclaimed. After continuing in chat\nwith the party round the fire a few minutes, Miss Crawford returned\nto the party round the table; and standing by them, seemed to\ninterest herself in their arrangements till, as if struck by a sudden\nrecollection, she exclaimed, \"My good friends, you are most composedly\nat work upon these cottages and alehouses, inside and out; but pray let\nme know my fate in the meanwhile. Who is to be Anhalt? What gentleman\namong you am I to have the pleasure of making love to?\" For a moment no one spoke; and then many spoke together to tell the same\nmelancholy truth, that they had not yet got any Anhalt. \"Mr. Rushworth\nwas to be Count Cassel, but no one had yet undertaken Anhalt.\" \"I had my choice of the parts,\" said Mr. Rushworth; \"but I thought I\nshould like the Count best, though I do not much relish the finery I am\nto have.\" \"You chose very wisely, I am sure,\" replied Miss Crawford, with a\nbrightened look; \"Anhalt is a heavy part.\" \"_The_ _Count_ has two-and-forty speeches,\" returned Mr. Rushworth,\n\"which is no trifle.\" \"I am not at all surprised,\" said Miss Crawford, after a short pause,\n\"at this want of an Anhalt. Amelia deserves no better. Such a forward\nyoung lady may well frighten the men.\" \"I should be but too happy in taking the part, if it were possible,\"\ncried Tom; \"but, unluckily, the Butler and Anhalt are in together. I\nwill not entirely give it up, however; I will try what can be done--I\nwill look it over again.\" \"Your _brother_ should take the part,\" said Mr. Yates, in a low voice. \"Do not you think he would?\" \"_I_ shall not ask him,\" replied Tom, in a cold, determined manner. Miss Crawford talked of something else, and soon afterwards rejoined the\nparty at the fire. \"They do not want me at all,\" said she, seating herself. \"I only puzzle\nthem, and oblige them to make civil speeches.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-13, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-16 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Mr. Edmund Bertram, as\nyou do not act yourself, you will be a disinterested adviser; and,\ntherefore, I apply to _you_. What shall we do for an Anhalt? Is it\npracticable for any of the others to double it? What is your advice?\" \"My advice,\" said he calmly, \"is that you change the play.\" \"_I_ should have no objection,\" she replied; \"for though I should not\nparticularly dislike the part of Amelia if well supported, that is, if\neverything went well, I shall be sorry to be an inconvenience; but\nas they do not chuse to hear your advice at _that_ _table_\" (looking\nround), \"it certainly will not be taken.\" Edmund said no more. \"If _any_ part could tempt _you_ to act, I suppose it would be Anhalt,\"\nobserved the lady archly, after a short pause; \"for he is a clergyman,\nyou know.\" \"_That_ circumstance would by no means tempt me,\" he replied, \"for I\nshould be sorry to make the character ridiculous by bad acting. It\nmust be very difficult to keep Anhalt from appearing a formal, solemn\nlecturer; and the man who chuses the profession itself is, perhaps, one\nof the last who would wish to represent it on the stage.\" Miss Crawford was silenced, and with some feelings of resentment and\nmortification, moved her chair considerably nearer the tea-table, and\ngave all her attention to Mrs. Norris, who was presiding there. \"Fanny,\" cried Tom Bertram, from the other table, where the conference\nwas eagerly carrying on, and the conversation incessant, \"we want your\nservices.\" Fanny was up in a moment, expecting some errand; for the habit of\nemploying her in that way was not yet overcome, in spite of all that\nEdmund could do. \"Oh! we do not want to disturb you from your seat. We do not want your\n_present_ services. We shall only want you in our play. You must be\nCottager's wife.\" \"Me!\" cried Fanny, sitting down again with a most frightened look. \"Indeed you must excuse me. I could not act anything if you were to give\nme the world. No, indeed, I cannot act.\" \"Indeed, but you must, for we cannot excuse you. It need not frighten\nyou: it is a nothing of a part, a mere nothing, not above half a dozen\nspeeches altogether, and it will not much signify if nobody hears a word\nyou say; so you may be as creep-mouse as you like, but we must have you\nto look at.\" \"If you are afraid of half a dozen speeches,\" cried Mr. Rushworth, \"what\nwould you do with such a part as mine? I have forty-two to learn.\" \"It is not that I am afraid of learning by heart,\" said Fanny, shocked\nto find herself at that moment the only speaker in the room, and to feel\nthat almost every eye was upon her; \"but I really cannot act.\" \"Yes, yes, you can act well enough for _us_. Learn your part, and we\nwill teach you all the rest. You have only two scenes, and as I shall\nbe Cottager, I'll put you in and push you about, and you will do it very\nwell, I'll answer for it.\" \"No, indeed, Mr. Bertram, you must excuse me. You cannot have an idea. It would be absolutely impossible for me. If I were to undertake it, I\nshould only disappoint you.\" \"Phoo! Phoo! Do not be so shamefaced. You'll do it very well. Every\nallowance will be made for you. We do not expect perfection. You must\nget a brown gown, and a white apron, and a mob cap, and we must make\nyou a few wrinkles, and a little of the crowsfoot at the corner of your\neyes, and you will be a very proper, little old woman.\" \"You must excuse me, indeed you must excuse me,\" cried Fanny, growing\nmore and more red from excessive agitation, and looking distressfully\nat Edmund, who was kindly observing her; but unwilling to exasperate\nhis brother by interference, gave her only an encouraging smile. Her\nentreaty had no effect on Tom: he only said again what he had said\nbefore; and it was not merely Tom, for the requisition was now backed by\nMaria, and Mr. Crawford, and Mr. Yates, with an urgency which differed\nfrom his but in being more gentle or more ceremonious, and which\naltogether was quite overpowering to Fanny; and before she could breathe\nafter it, Mrs. Norris completed the whole by thus addressing her in a\nwhisper at once angry and audible--\"What a piece of work here is about\nnothing: I am quite ashamed of you, Fanny, to make such a difficulty of\nobliging your cousins in a trifle of this sort--so kind as they are to\nyou! Take the part with a good grace, and let us hear no more of the\nmatter, I entreat.\" \"Do not urge her, madam,\" said Edmund. \"It is not fair to urge her\nin this manner. You see she does not like to act. Let her chuse for\nherself, as well as the rest of us. Her judgment may be quite as safely\ntrusted. Do not urge her any more.\" \"I am not going to urge her,\" replied Mrs. Norris sharply; \"but I shall\nthink her a very obstinate, ungrateful girl, if she does not do what her\naunt and cousins wish her--very ungrateful, indeed, considering who and\nwhat she is.\" Edmund was too angry to speak; but Miss Crawford, looking for a moment\nwith astonished eyes at Mrs. Norris, and then at Fanny, whose tears were\nbeginning to shew themselves, immediately said, with some keenness, \"I\ndo not like my situation: this _place_ is too hot for me,\" and moved\naway her chair to the opposite side of the table, close to Fanny, saying\nto her, in a kind, low whisper, as she placed herself, \"Never mind,\nmy dear Miss Price, this is a cross evening: everybody is cross and\nteasing, but do not let us mind them\"; and with pointed attention\ncontinued to talk to her and endeavour to raise her spirits, in spite of\nbeing out of spirits herself. By a look at her brother she prevented any\nfarther entreaty from the theatrical board, and the really good feelings\nby which she was almost purely governed were rapidly restoring her to\nall the little she had lost in Edmund's favour. Fanny did not love Miss Crawford; but she felt very much obliged to her\nfor her present kindness; and when, from taking notice of her work,\nand wishing _she_ could work as well, and begging for the pattern, and\nsupposing Fanny was now preparing for her _appearance_, as of course she\nwould come out when her cousin was married, Miss Crawford proceeded to\ninquire if she had heard lately from her brother at sea, and said that\nshe had quite a curiosity to see him, and imagined him a very fine young\nman, and advised Fanny to get his picture drawn before he went to sea\nagain--she could not help admitting it to be very agreeable flattery, or\nhelp listening, and answering with more animation than she had intended. The consultation upon the play still went on, and Miss Crawford's\nattention was first called from Fanny by Tom Bertram's telling her,\nwith infinite regret, that he found it absolutely impossible for him to\nundertake the part of Anhalt in addition to the Butler: he had been most\nanxiously trying to make it out to be feasible, but it would not do;\nhe must give it up. \"But there will not be the smallest difficulty in\nfilling it,\" he added. \"We have but to speak the word; we may pick and\nchuse. I could name, at this moment, at least six young men within six\nmiles of us, who are wild to be admitted into our company, and there are\none or two that would not disgrace us: I should not be afraid to trust\neither of the Olivers or Charles Maddox. Tom Oliver is a very clever\nfellow, and Charles Maddox is as gentlemanlike a man as you will see\nanywhere, so I will take my horse early to-morrow morning and ride over\nto Stoke, and settle with one of them.\" While he spoke, Maria was looking apprehensively round at Edmund in full\nexpectation that he must oppose such an enlargement of the plan as this:\nso contrary to all their first protestations; but Edmund said nothing. After a moment's thought, Miss Crawford calmly replied, \"As far as I\nam concerned, I can have no objection to anything that you all think\neligible. Have I ever seen either of the gentlemen? Yes, Mr. Charles\nMaddox dined at my sister's one day, did not he, Henry? A quiet-looking\nyoung man. I remember him.\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-16, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far.", "[Event happened on 2024-01-17 The user is reading a book]\n<User> Let _him_ be applied to, if you please, for\nit will be less unpleasant to me than to have a perfect stranger.\" Charles Maddox was to be the man. Tom repeated his resolution of going\nto him early on the morrow; and though Julia, who had scarcely opened\nher lips before, observed, in a sarcastic manner, and with a glance\nfirst at Maria and then at Edmund, that \"the Mansfield theatricals would\nenliven the whole neighbourhood exceedingly,\" Edmund still held his\npeace, and shewed his feelings only by a determined gravity. \"I am not very sanguine as to our play,\" said Miss Crawford, in an\nundervoice to Fanny, after some consideration; \"and I can tell Mr.\nMaddox that I shall shorten some of _his_ speeches, and a great many of\n_my_ _own_, before we rehearse together. It will be very disagreeable,\nand by no means what I expected.\"\n\n<System> Please remember what the user reads on 2024-01-17, save the details within the book, and retain a summary of the book the user has read so far."]
[{"question": "Summarize the content of the book I read from 2024-01-01 to 2024-01-17", "answer": "Sir Thomas, Tom, Mansfield Park, Mary Crawford, Edmund, Henry Crawford, Maria, Julia, Fanny, Yates, Rushworth, Mrs. Norris, ball, first ball, amateur theatricals, play proposal, private theatricals, Lovers' Vows, theater construction, Sir Thomas's room, billiard-room, comedy vs tragedy, casting, illegitimate children, bold declarations of love, awkward couples, Maria's engagement, Julia refuses, Rushworth comedy, Anhalt, clergyman role, neighbor participation, Fanny refuses role, Tom and Mrs. Norris attack Fanny, Mary Crawford rescues Fanny, distrust, social hierarchy, scandalous play, sexual aggression, group fickleness, stage preparations"}]