Fanny looked on and listened, not unamused to observe the selfishness
which, more or less disguised, seemed to govern them all, and wondering
how it would end. For her own gratification she could have wished that
something might be acted, for she had never seen even half a play, but
everything of higher consequence was against it.

"This will never do," said Tom Bertram at last. "We are wasting time
most abominably. Something must be fixed on. No matter what, so that
something is chosen. We must not be so nice. A few characters too
many must not frighten us. We must double them. We must descend a
little. If a part is insignificant, the greater our credit in making
anything of it. From this moment I make no difficulties. I take any
part you chuse to give me, so as it be comic. Let it but be comic, I
condition for nothing more."

For about the fifth time he then proposed the Heir at Law, doubting
only whether to prefer Lord Duberley or Dr. Pangloss for himself; and
very earnestly, but very unsuccessfully, trying to persuade the others
that there were some fine tragic parts in the rest of the dramatis
personae.

The pause which followed this fruitless effort was ended by the same
speaker, who, taking up one of the many volumes of plays that lay on
the table, and turning it over, suddenly exclaimed--"Lovers' Vows! And
why should not Lovers' Vows do for us as well as for the Ravenshaws?
How came it never to be thought of before? It strikes me as if it
would do exactly. What say you all? Here are two capital tragic parts
for Yates and Crawford, and here is the rhyming Butler for me, if
nobody else wants it; a trifling part, but the sort of thing I should
not dislike, and, as I said before, I am determined to take anything
and do my best. And as for the rest, they may be filled up by anybody.
It is only Count Cassel and Anhalt."