Murder at Mansfield Park

"Oh, some four or five thousand a year, I believe. Nothing to my dear Edmund’s, of course, but those who have not more, must be satisfied with what they have, and make the best of it. But, to be sure, ma’am," she continued, more confidentially,"to be sure it is not quite settled, yet. We only speak of it among friends. But I have very little doubt it will be. He is growing exceedingly attentive, is he not?"

"Oh yes, indeed."

The music soon recommenced, and when Mr Norris approached to claim her hand, Mary saw that the expression of his face was grave and contemplative. They stood for some time without speaking a word, till suddenly fancying that it would be the greater vexation to Mrs Norris to be seen to be in conversation, Mary made some slight observation on the ball-room.

Mr Norris looked her in the face for the first time, seemed about to speak, but then stopped, his eyes fixed intently on her.

"Good heavens," he exclaimed. "What is this? What can be meant by it?"

To Mary’s astonishment, his complexion became pale, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. Nothing could explain such a complete change of humour and countenance; he had always been polite, even if rather quiet and reserved, but now he made every effort to avoid her eye, and every subject of conversation she attempted was firmly and resolutely repulsed, with the result that they concluded their two dances in a most unpleasant and uncomfortable silence.

As soon as the set was ended Mr Norris made the briefest of bows and walked quickly away towards Rushworth and Miss Price, leaving Mary quite at a loss as to how to proceed. She made her way slowly back to where her brother was standing on the other side of the room, watching the group by the fire in a fit of jealous agitation. Miss Price had refused to dance with him, despite the conspicuous encouragement he believed he had received when they last met at the Park.

"It appears I was a useful distraction for an hour or two," he said, with evident irritation, "but now she has once again succeeded in attracting the attention of that chattering coxcomb Rushworth, I am no more use to her." Mary had feared it would be so, and was about to express her sympathy when they were accosted by Mrs Norris.

"Well, miss," she said loudly, "it has been quite clear to me, from the very day you arrived in the neighbourhood, that you Crawfords are just the sort of people to get all you can, at other people’s expense — but I had not thought even you capable of stooping quite so low."

"I–I — " stammered Mary, her face like scarlet.

"Mrs Norris," said Henry coldly, "I beg leave to interject on my sister’s behalf. To what do you allude, ma’am?"

"That necklace," she replied, "belongs to Miss Price. I am therefore at a loss to imagine how your sister can have come by it."

"I can assure you, ma’am," said Mary, recovering herself, "that the necklace was a kind gift, most freely given."

"I beg your pardon," replied Mrs Norris, "but I cannot quite believe you. Fanny would never have presented you with any item of the slightest value. The cost alone makes such a thing unthinkable. I know for a fact its price was at least eighteen shillings."

Henry was too angry to speak; but Mary stood her ground, and quietly explained the circumstances of the gift. Mrs Norris was, at length, satisfied, if being forced to concede an ill-founded accusation, formed on mistaken premises, may be termed satisfaction, and without making any apology for her error, hastened away. Mary immediately expressed a wish for the relative seclusion of the supper-room, and she was soon after joined by Henry, who, sitting down next to her with a look of consciousness, said, "My own cares are vexing enough, but I am very sorry if anything has occurred to distress you. This ought to have been a day of happiness."

"Oh! It shall be. It is," said Mary, making an effort for her brother’s sake. "Let us say no more about it, I entreat you. I shall have forgotten the whole affair by morning."

"I fear it may prove more enduring than that," he replied in a low voice. "Just now, when I was with them, I heard Norris asking Miss Price about the necklace."

"Mr Norris?" asked Mary, the colour rushing to her face.

"The very same. That necklace you are wearing was evidently his gift."

The truth rushed on Mary in an instant; all of Mr Norris’s unaccountable conduct in the ball-room was now explained; his surprise, his seemingly unintelligible words, and the way he had looked at her, that was fully accounted for by the extraordinary spectacle of a gift he had presented to one woman being conspicuously displayed around the throat of another.

"I must find an opportunity to explain," she said, in distracted tones, rising from her chair. "I must speak to him instantly, I cannot let him think that I — "