can. . . . 'We must persuade Henry to marry her,' said she, 'and, what with honour and the certainty of having shut himself out for ever from Fanny, I do not despair of it. Fanny he must give up. I do not think that even he could now hope to succeed with one of her stamp, and, therefore, I hope we may find no insuperable difficulty. My influence, which is not small, shall all go that way; and, properly supported by her own family, people of respectability as they are, she may recover her footing in society to a certain degree. In some circles we know she would never be admitted, but, with good dinners, and large parties, there will always be those who will be glad of her acquaintance; and there is, undoubtedly, more liberality and candour on those points now than formerly. What I advise is that your father be quiet. Do not let him injure his own cause by interference. Persuade him to let things take their course. If, by any officious exertions of his, she is induced to leave Henry's protection, there will be much less chance of his marrying her than if she remain with him. I know how he is likely to be influenced. Let Sir Thomas trust to his honour and compassion, and it may all end well; but, if he gets his daughter away, it will be destroying the chief hold.'"
The answer that Edmund makes to all this may be imagined, but cannot be given at length; suffice it that his eyes are at length opened, and he bids Mary Crawford farewell in a harangue, which is, perhaps, a shade too sententious, but so genuine in its pain and disgust that all intercourse between the Bertram and Crawford families is ended for ever. He returns to Mansfield Park to recover slowly from the wound he has received, with the help of Fanny's
