Murder at Mansfield Park

The family could not conceal their astonishment, and looked all the amazement which such an unexpected announcement could not fail of exciting. Even Julia checked her tears, and tried to compose herself. Mrs Norris was ready at once with her suggestions, but was vexed to find that Sir Thomas had been amusing himself with shaping a very complete outline of the business. He had, in fact, long been apprehensive of the effect of his son’s departure, and the contraction of the Mansfield circle consequent thereon. He had reasoned to himself that if he could find the means of distracting his family’s attention, and keeping up their spirits for the first few weeks, he should think the time and money very well spent. Such careful solicitude was quite of a piece with the whole of his careful, upright conduct as a husband and father, and the eager curiosity of his family was just what he wished. Questions and exclamations followed each other rapidly, and he was ready to give such information as he possessed, and answer every query almost before it was put, looking with heartfelt satisfaction on the animated faces around him. One question, however, he could not answer; he had never yet seen Mr Crawford, and could not answer for anything more than his skill with a pen. Had he known all that was to come of the acquaintance, Sir Thomas would surely have forbad him the house.

The Crawfords were not young people of fortune. The brother had a small property near London, the sister less than two thousand pounds. They were the children of Mrs Grant’s mother by a second marriage, and when they were young she had been very fond of them; but, as her own marriage had been soon followed by the death of their common parent, which left them to the care of a brother of their father, a man of whom Mrs Grant knew nothing, she had scarcely seen them since. In their uncle’s house near Bedford-square they had found a kind home. He was a single man, and the cheerful company of the brother and sister ensured that his final years had every comfort that he could wish; he doated on the boy, and found both nurse and housekeeper in the girl. Unfortunately, his own property was entailed on a distant relation; and this cousin installing himself in the house within a month of the old gentleman’s sudden death, Mr and Miss Crawford were obliged to look for another home without delay, Mr Crawford’s own house being too small for their joint comfort, and one to which his sister had taken a fixed dislike, for reasons of her own. Having been forced by want of fortune to go into a profession, Mr Crawford had begun with the law, but soon after had discovered a genius for improvement that gave him the excuse he had been wanting to give up his first choice and enter upon another. For the last three years he had spent nine months in every twelve travelling the country from Devon-shire to Derby-shire, visiting gentlemen’s seats, and laying out their grounds, gathering at the same time a list of noble patrons and a competent knowledge of Views, Situations, Prospects and the principles of the Picturesque. What would have been hardship to a more indolent, stay-at-home man was bustle and excitement to him. For Henry Crawford had, luckily, a great dislike to anything like a permanence of abode, or limitation of society; and he boasted of spending half his life in a post-chaise, and forming more new acquaintances in a fortnight than most men did in a twelvemonth. But, all the same, he was properly aware that it was his duty to provide a comfortable home for Mary, and when the letter from the Park was soon followed by another from the parsonage offering his sister far more suitable accommodations than their present lodgings could afford, he saw it as the happy intervention of a Providence that had ever been his friend.