ds gave her any sensation. Could she believe Miss Crawford to deserve him, it would be–oh, how different would it be–how far more tolerable! But he was deceived in her: he gave her merits which she had not; her faults were what they had ever been, but he saw them no longer. Till she had shed many tears over this deception23, Fanny could not subdue24 her agitation25; and the dejection which followed could only be relieved by the influence of fervent26 prayers for his happiness.
It was her intention, as she felt it to be her duty, to try to overcome all that was excessive, all that bordered on selfishness, in her affection for Edmund. To call or to fancy it a loss, a disappointment, would be a presumption27 for which she had not words strong enough to satisfy her own humility28. To think of him as Miss Crawford might be justified29 in thinking, would in her be insanity30. To her he could be nothing under any circumstances; nothing dearer than a friend. Why did such an idea occur to her even enough to be reprobated and forbidden? It ought not to have touched on the confines of her imagination. She would endeavour to be rational, and to deserve the right of judging of Miss Crawford’s character, and the privilege of true solicitude31 for him by a sound intellect and an honest heart.
She had all the heroism32 of principle, and was determined33 to do her duty; but having also many of the feelings of youth and nature, let her not be much wondered at, if, after making all these good resolutions on the side of self-government, she seized the scrap34 of paper on which Edmund had begun writing to her, as a treasure beyond all her hopes, and reading with the tenderest