could no more bear the noise of a child than he could fly. If, indeed, he should ever get well of his gouty complaints it would be a different matter; she should then be glad to take her turn, and think nothing of the inconvenience; but just now poor Mr. Norris took up every moment of her time, and the very mention of such a thing she was sure would distract him.
"'Then she had better come to us,' said Lady Bertram, with the utmost composure.
"After a short pause, Sir Thomas added with dignity, 'Yes, let her home be in this house. We will endeavour to do our duty by her; and she will at least have the advantage of companions of her own age and of a regular instructress.'"
Fanny Price is accordingly sent for; and Miss Austen has painted nothing more truly than the sufferings of a sensitive, timid child suddenly removed from home, and plunged into a thoroughly uncongenial atmosphere. No one is unkind to her, but no one understands or shares her feelings; she has no companion among her cousins, and the elders, seeing her quiet and obedient, have no idea of all that she silently suffers. Tom and Edmund Bertram, at sixteen and seventeen, are quite out of their little cousin's reach, and Maria and Julia Bertram, having always been well taught, and accustomed to think much of their own attainments, are full of contempt for a cousin only two years younger than themselves, but far less well-informed. "'Dear mamma, only think, my cousin cannot put the map of Europe together—or my cousin cannot tell the principal rivers in Russia—or she never heard of Asia Minor—or she does not know the difference between water-colours and crayons. How strange! Did you ever hear anything so stupid?'
