She was now left a good deal to herself, to get acquainted with the
house and grounds as she could, and spent her days very happily in so
doing, while those who might otherwise have attended to her were shut
up, or wholly occupied each with the person quite dependent on them, at
this time, for everything like comfort; Edmund trying to bury his own
feelings in exertions for the relief of his brother's, and Fanny
devoted to her aunt Bertram, returning to every former office with more
than former zeal, and thinking she could never do enough for one who
seemed so much to want her.

To talk over the dreadful business with Fanny, talk and lament, was all
Lady Bertram's consolation. To be listened to and borne with, and hear
the voice of kindness and sympathy in return, was everything that could
be done for her. To be otherwise comforted was out of the question.
The case admitted of no comfort. Lady Bertram did not think deeply,
but, guided by Sir Thomas, she thought justly on all important points;
and she saw, therefore, in all its enormity, what had happened, and
neither endeavoured herself, nor required Fanny to advise her, to think
little of guilt and infamy.

Her affections were not acute, nor was her mind tenacious. After a
time, Fanny found it not impossible to direct her thoughts to other
subjects, and revive some interest in the usual occupations; but
whenever Lady Bertram was fixed on the event, she could see it only
in one light, as comprehending the loss of a daughter, and a disgrace
never to be wiped off.