Mansfield Park- Susan Price
Chapter 1: Introduction
Dear Sir,
I am writing this improper piece of epistle to you in such a state of urgency, for I bring most alarming news for your household, or I should hope is alarming.
My dear aunt has not written in a while to you, for she has fallen ill. Her illness is nothing of the sort which I can alleviate. The physician has informed me that staunch care and change of scenery might help poor Mrs. Norris recover. Under such circumstance, I entreat you to reconsider our coming back to Mansfield. It has been a fortnight and my aunt is still with fever.
I hope her old humble home has not been eradicated, we do not ask of you any abode under your roof, that is, Mansfield Park's roof. My aunt only asks that you let us reside in her old home, once more.
We shall be of no bother to anyone, we would only need some financial assistance which I hope you will not decline considering the status quo.
I cannot say more on the subject, for my aunt is calling for me and I must not dwell on this, but I expect some form of reply, be it a refusal or a kind acceptance.
Your daughter,
Maria Bertram
This sad and deplorable note came to Mansfield Park one sunny autumn morning and it passed immediately through Lady Bertram and Sir Thomas' hands. It was something formidable that after almost five years of continuous coldness and pride on the part of Maria Bertram, she was now writing to them in such humble, yet pathetic tone.
It was more formidable that five years had gone by without a word from her. They received letters regularly from Mrs. Norris, who was her companion, but never from Maria herself. She had never considered that her elopement had been of the sort to produce dire consequences. Her blind attraction to Mr. Crawford had secured her heart from any regrets.
Her hate for him afterwards, rendered her heart even colder, until she was more than certain her family and her father had been decided evils in her path.
Sir Thomas, as unforgivable as he had been upon her grave err, had not the heart of stone and was baffled to see the years fly by and no sign from his daughter.
And now, that the moment had come and she had finally written to him, it was in these sad circumstances.
Lady Bertram was in agitated spirits, which was intolerable for her. Her constitution could not resist such news and her heart swelled for her now remembered daughter.
'Oh! How long has it been! Dear Sir Thomas, she must be so miserable. And my sister too! What shall we do, pray tell me?' were the only words she spoke before fluttering her fan impatiently and waiting for his answer.
Seeing her so distressed alarmed him and he settled then that she was not the person to turn to upon such subject. Therefore, he waited calmly for dinner, when Fanny and Edmund Bertram joined them as usual.
Their minds were so alike, their character so just, together they could judge so well, that he decided he would ask for their advice before doing anything. His son and his niece would set him right.
'Susan, do help your dear aunt recover her spirits,' he addressed the young girl who was sitting on the sofa, next to Lady Bertram, knitting quietly and stopping from time to time to caress pug which was in the Lady's lap.
Susan Price, sister of the beloved Fanny Price, was now the comfort of Lady Bertram and a good and efficient comfort she was, for in less than twenty minutes after Sir Thomas' departure, she diverted the Lady's mind towards other subjects, such as the improvements of little Dorothy, daughter of Fanny and Edmund, at reading.
Lady Bertram doted on her little granddaughter who was a sweet and charming pet, more loveable than pug and more amusing. She relished in hearing of anything good about her and was glad to talk more of Dorothy.
Susan was very apt to know the character of people. Her gentleness or kindness were not as endearing as those of sister Fanny, nor did she sit quietly and bear an injustice, but the sweeping manner in which she guessed people's minds was an attribute highly necessary at Mansfield, where everyone needed to be pleased. And pleased she made them.
She was full of joy and love with her aunt, she was sober and collected, yet polite and careful with her uncle, she was firm and kind to the maids and poised and forbearing with her cousin Tom.
Her true, more outspoken character and strong beliefs were revealed in the company of her beloved sister. Life at Mansfield for Susan could have been harder, had it not been for dear Fanny, who always gave advice which was not given in vain and always gave her smiles, which again, were not given in vain. She treasured her company above all and sought all help from her.
Edmund was amiable as cousin but she shied from addressing him as familiarly as she did Fanny. There was detached friendship between them that Fanny was pleased to see.
However, both sister and cousin had always assisted her when her mind was unsure or her character failed. She recalled those vague and painful years, those blind and impudent days spent in Portsmouth.
When one wishes to forget so ardently, one remembers no more and Susan Price no longer could bring back the terror of her mother's house, the injustice, the impropriety, the clamour. All was sealed in the back of her mind and only her first weeks at Mansfield did bring some tear-stained recollection of home.
The sentiment that budded in her heart more and more was gratitude. She resembled Fanny at this, but her gratitude, instead of being directed principally at Sir Thomas, was more given to her sister. Had Fanny not tried, had she not entreated, had she not loved her so dearly, had she not advised and had her character not been so loved at Mansfield, Susan would have never perhaps been invited there. Her opportunities and prospects would have been bleak, she perhaps would have never learned the true distinction between what is right and what is wrong.
Before, she had judged others, but not herself; she had shown true principles, but she had never applied them. Fanny brought her to light and only when she was brought into such a house, in the company of such people did she realize her position.
She became humble and no longer judged as harshly as she had done in the past. She had no reason to, for Mrs. Norris and her female cousins being gone, she had no model of impropriety to dwell on. The contrast between her family and this new family was so big that she decided from then on to judge only herself.
At times, the wish to do right and to promote her own beliefs in spite of others, made her cold and withdrawn again, but Fanny was there to guide her.
These five years, her sister had always been by her side and every dinner spent together improved her feelings and made her change her opinion of the Bertrams, until she found the truthful one.
Susan Price was surely not perfect. She was not quite as good as her sister, she had not the same sensibility and was not so self-conscious, but Fanny Price was no model of perfection either.
It was a proper balance, for, what Fanny lacked, Susan supplied and vice versa. Their tempers, though not at all opposite, were complementary and could afford each other much pleasure.
The evening arrived and Susan came down from the East Room where her apartment was settled, the very place Fanny had inhabited long ago.
She was to receive her sister and cousin for dinner which was a usual event in the family, but this evening, her curiosity was piqued by the news they were about to receive.
Susan was seated usually next to her sister and Lady Bertram and came early to make sure her aunt needed no other comfort but her presence.
After Sir Thomas and his eldest son joined them in the dining room, the rattle of the wheels of the familiar chaise was heard on the alley and only some moments passed until Fanny and Edmund entered the parlour.
They were welcome with the same cordiality that was wont every evening and were happily inquired of Dorothy, who was already asleep at the parsonage.
Susan and Fanny kissed dearly and sat down together, exchanging a few words before her husband was seated and the dinner started. Lady Bertram was pleased to see Fanny and she never shrank from telling her what an aid Susan was, almost more necessary than Fanny had been, especially today of all days.
'My state today, it cannot be described and I suppose Sir Thomas means to tell you in person, but had it not been for Susan, I know not how I would have recovered. It was such a surprise, indeed!'
'What is it that tormented you, dear aunt?' Fanny asked.
'A far-away relative has written to Sir Thomas and I dare say the contents and its writer will baffle you, sister,' Susan replied.
Sir Thomas calmly told them what the entire agitation had been for; a letter from his daughter, respectively Maria Bertram.
Both Fanny and Edmund were surprised, but their immediate assistance was needed and there was no room for gasps.
They both were made acquainted with the subject at hand and could only express sorrow that, Mrs. Norris, no matter how rough a lady, was bedridden.
Throughout dinner the subject was dwelt on and Sir Thomas eventually confessed he did not know if he should approve their return.
To this, Edmund and Fanny had one common answer which pleased Lady Bertram; return they must.
If it was true they were in dire need of help, under such circumstances, old grudges and pains were to be forgotten, errs forgiven and assistance given kindly. Perhaps this sign of disinterested affection, would mar the barriers between the relatives and make Maria aware of her faults.
These thoughts were voiced by Fanny and Edmund agreed, though he proposed some small limits so that there be no taking advantage of the situation.
'My sister and her aunt can well stay in Mrs. Norris' old house, which is I dare say, just as solid and well kept, though the residence of servants at the moment. This is a most handsome act of kindness in God's eyes, but let not their influence extend. As I know my aunt, she will want to be received again at Mansfield Park and will have this in mind only to secure Maria a place here once more. I do not suppose that would be the best of ideas. We should be reasonable enough to assist them, but let them stay separately. If this alarms my dear mother, she shall know it can be temporary, but as long as Maria shows no signs of remorse, the solution is best as I have given it.'
And so it was, that no one dared to comment upon such well-thought plan. Fanny trusted her husband to have a clear and ready mind, having had more than enough experience with the likes of Mary Crawford. His judgment here could not err.
The dinner coming to an end shortly after this, the entire party retired to the drawing room where Susan and Lady Bertram would occupy a favourite place near the darkened windows and the others might dwell on the subject longer.
Of all those at Mansfield, Tom Bertram, showed most pity and guilt for his sister. Had he been more careful, had he guided her rightly! Yet, he had not been a model of propriety; in fact, he guessed his own indulgences might have influenced her.
It could not be helped, things were as they were and only the future could be expected in brighter tones. He sat firmly, speaking for his aunt and sister, but more heartily for Maria, that they should be forgiven with time. His feelings were appreciated by those around him, but Edmund remained undeterred in his plans.