Murder at Mansfield Park

right sort, and one which would retain Fanny’s fortune within the family, when it might have been bestowed elsewhere. Sir Thomas knew
that his own daughters would not have a quarter as much as Fanny, but trusted that the brilliance of countenance that they had inherited from one parent, would more than compensate for any slight
deficiency in what they were to receive from the other.
    The first event of any importance in the family happened in the year that Miss Price was to come of age. Her elder cousin Maria had just entered her twentieth year, and Julia
was some six years younger. Tom Bertram, at twenty-one, was just entering into life, full of spirits, and with all the liberal dispositions of an eldest son, but a material change was to occur at
Mansfield, with the departure of his younger brother, William, to take up his duties as a midshipman on board His Majesty’s Ship the Perseverance . With his open, amiable disposition,
and easy, unaffected manners William could not but be missed, and the family was prepared to find a great chasm in their society, and to miss him decidedly. A prospect that had once seemed a long
way off was soon upon them, and the last few days were taken up with the necessary preparations for his removal; business followed business, and the days were hardly long enough for all the
agitating cares and busy little particulars attending this momentous event.
    The last breakfast was soon over; the last kiss was given, and William was gone. After seeing her brother to the final moment, Maria walked back to the breakfast-room with a saddened heart to
comfort her mother and Julia, who were sitting crying over William’s deserted chair and empty plate. Lady Bertram was feeling as an anxious mother must feel, but Julia was giving herself up
to all the excessive affliction of a young and ardent heart that had never yet been acquainted with the grief of parting. Even though some two years older than herself, William had been her
constant companion in every childhood pleasure, her friend in every youthful distress. However her sister might reason with her, Julia could not be brought to consider the separation as any thing
other than permanent.
    ‘Dear, dear William!’ she sobbed. ‘Who knows if I will ever behold you again! Those delightful hours we have spent together, opening our hearts to one another and sharing all
our hopes and plans! Those sweet summers when every succeeding morrow renewed our delightful converse! How endless they once seemed but how quickly they have passed! And now I fear they will never
come again! Even if you do return, it will not be the same—you will have new cares, and new pleasures, and little thought for the sister you left behind!’
    Maria hastened to assure her that such precious memories of their earliest attachment would surely never be entirely forgotten, and that William had such a warm heart that time and absence must
only increase their mutual affection, but Julia was not to be consoled, and all her sister’s soothings proved ineffectual.
    ‘We shall miss William at Mansfield,’ was Sir Thomas’s observation when he joined them with Mrs Norris in the breakfast-room, but noticing his younger daughter’s
distress, and knowing that in general her sorrows, like her joys, were as immoderate as they were momentary, decided it was best to say no more and presently turned the subject. ‘Where are
Tom and Fanny?’
    ‘Fanny is playing the piano-forte, and Tom has just set off for Sotherton to call on Mr Rushworth,’ replied Maria.
    ‘He will find our new neighbour a most pleasant, gentleman-like man,’ said Sir Thomas. ‘I sat but ten minutes with him in his library, yet he appeared to me to have good sense
and a pleasing address. I should certainly have stayed longer but the house is all in an uproar. I have always thought Sotherton a fine old place—but Mr Rushworth says it wants improvement,
and in consequence the house is in a cloud of dust, noise, and confusion, without a carpet to the floor, or a sopha to sit on. Rushworth was called out of the room twice while I was there, to
satisfy some doubts of the plasterer. And once he has done with the house, he intends to begin upon the grounds. Given my own interest in the subject, we found we had much in common.’
    ‘What can you mean, Sir Thomas?’ enquired Lady Bertram, roused from her melancholy reverie. ‘I am sure I never heard you mention such a thing before.’
    Sir