“But they are passed over,” said Fanny. “I have been watching them. This weather is all from the south.”
“South or north, I know a black cloud when I see it; and you must not set forward while it is so threatening. And besides, I want to play something more to you–a very pretty piece–and your cousin Edmund’s prime favourite. You must stay and hear your cousin’s favourite.”
Fanny felt that she must; and though she had not waited for that sentence to be thinking of Edmund, such a memento19 made her particularly awake to his idea, and she fancied him sitting in that room again and again, perhaps in the very spot where she sat now, listening with constant delight to the favourite air, played, as it appeared to her, with superior tone and expression; and though pleased with it herself, and glad to like whatever was liked by him, she was more sincerely impatient to go away at the conclusion of it than she had been before; and on this being evident, she was so kindly20 asked to call again, to take them in her walk whenever she could, to come and hear more of the harp, that she felt it necessary to be done, if no objection arose at home.