Seven weeks of the two months were very nearly gone, when the one
letter, the letter from Edmund, so long expected, was put into Fanny's
hands. As she opened, and saw its length, she prepared herself for a
minute detail of happiness and a profusion of love and praise towards
the fortunate creature who was now mistress of his fate. These were
the contents-"My Dear Fanny,--Excuse me that I have not written before. Crawford
told me that you were wishing to hear from me, but I found it
impossible to write from London, and persuaded myself that you would
understand my silence. Could I have sent a few happy lines, they
should not have been wanting, but nothing of that nature was ever in my
power.

I am returned to Mansfield in a less assured state than when I
left it. My hopes are much weaker. You are probably aware of this
already. So very fond of you as Miss Crawford is, it is most natural
that she should tell you enough of her own feelings to furnish a
tolerable guess at mine. I will not be prevented, however, from making
my own communication. Our confidences in you need not clash. I ask no
questions. There is something soothing in the idea that we have the
same friend, and that whatever unhappy differences of opinion may exist
between us, we are united in our love of you. It will be a comfort to
me to tell you how things now are, and what are my present plans, if
plans I can be said to have. I have been returned since Saturday. I
was three weeks in London, and saw her (for London) very often. I had
every attention from the Frasers that could be reasonably expected. I
dare say I was not reasonable in carrying with me hopes of an
intercourse at all like that of Mansfield. It was her manner, however,
rather than any unfrequency of meeting. Had she been different when I
did see her, I should have made no complaint, but from the very first
she was altered: my first reception was so unlike what I had hoped,
that I had almost resolved on leaving London again directly. I need
not particularise. You know the weak side of her character, and may
imagine the sentiments and expressions which were torturing me. She
was in high spirits, and surrounded by those who were giving all the
support of their own bad sense to her too lively mind.