Менсфілд Парк

Chapter XIX

           Norrisfeltherselfdefraudedofanofficeonwhichshehadalwaysdepended,whetherhisarrivalorhisdeathweretobethethingunfolded;andwasnowtryingtobeinabustlewithouthavinganythingtobustleabout,andlabouringtobeimportantwherenothingwaswantedbuttranquillityandsilence.WouldSirThomashaveconsentedtoeat,shemighthavegonetothehousekeeperwithtroublesomedirections,andinsultedthefootmenwithinjunctionsofdespatch;butSirThomasresolutelydeclinedalldinner:hewouldtakenothing,nothingtillteacame—hewouldratherwaitfortea.StillMrs.Norriswasatintervalsurgingsomethingdifferent;andinthemostinterestingmomentofhispassagetoEngland,whenthealarmofaFrenchprivateerwasattheheight,sheburstthroughhisrecitalwiththeproposalofsoup.“Sure,mydearSirThomas,abasinofsoupwouldbeamuchbetterthingforyouthantea.Dohaveabasinofsoup.”

           SirThomascouldnotbeprovoked.“Stillthesameanxietyforeverybody’scomfort,mydearMrs.Norris,”washisanswer.“ButindeedIwouldratherhavenothingbuttea.”

           “Well,then,LadyBertram,supposeyouspeakforteadirectly;supposeyouhurryBaddeleyalittle;heseemsbehindhandto-night.”Shecarriedthispoint,andSirThomas’snarrativeproceeded.

           Atlengththerewasapause.

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