Менсфілд Парк

Chapter XLV

           Itcame,andshehadyetheardnothingofherreturn—nothingevenofthegoingtoLondon,whichwastoprecedeherreturn.Herauntoftenexpressedawishforher,buttherewasnonotice,nomessagefromtheuncleonwhomalldepended.Shesupposedhecouldnotyetleavehisson,butitwasacruel,aterribledelaytoher.TheendofAprilwascomingon;itwouldsoonbealmostthreemonths,insteadoftwo,thatshehadbeenabsentfromthemall,andthatherdayshadbeenpassinginastateofpenance,whichshelovedthemtoowelltohopetheywouldthoroughlyunderstand;andwhocouldyetsaywhentheremightbeleisuretothinkoforfetchher?

           Hereagerness,herimpatience,herlongingstobewiththem,weresuchastobringalineortwoofCowper’sTirociniumforeverbeforeher.“Withwhatintensedesireshewantsherhome,”wascontinuallyonhertongue,asthetruestdescriptionofayearningwhichshecouldnotsupposeanyschoolboy’sbosomtofeelmorekeenly.

           WhenshehadbeencomingtoPortsmouth,shehadlovedtocallitherhome,hadbeenfondofsayingthatshewasgoinghome;thewordhadbeenverydeartoher,andsoitstillwas,butitmustbeappliedtoMansfield.Thatwasnowthehome.PortsmouthwasPortsmouth;Mansfieldwashome.Theyhadbeenlongsoarrangedintheindulgenceofhersecretmeditations,andnothingwasmoreconsolatorytoherthantofindherauntusingthesamelanguage:“IcannotbutsayImuchregretyourbeingfromhomeatthisdistressingtime,soverytryingtomyspirits.

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