"I do not know. We will ask him. But he will be very much surprised
that Mrs. Grant should ask Fanny at all."

There was nothing more to be said, or that could be said to any
purpose, till Sir Thomas were present; but the subject involving, as it
did, her own evening's comfort for the morrow, was so much uppermost in
Lady Bertram's mind, that half an hour afterwards, on his looking in
for a minute in his way from his plantation to his dressing-room, she
called him back again, when he had almost closed the door, with "Sir
Thomas, stop a moment--I have something to say to you."

Her tone of calm languor, for she never took the trouble of raising her
voice, was always heard and attended to; and Sir Thomas came back. Her
story began; and Fanny immediately slipped out of the room; for to hear
herself the subject of any discussion with her uncle was more than her
nerves could bear. She was anxious, she knew--more anxious perhaps
than she ought to be--for what was it after all whether she went or
staid? but if her uncle were to be a great while considering and
deciding, and with very grave looks, and those grave looks directed to
her, and at last decide against her, she might not be able to appear
properly submissive and indifferent. Her cause, meanwhile, went on
well. It began, on Lady Bertram's part, with--"I have something to
tell you that will surprise you. Mrs. Grant has asked Fanny to dinner."