back on our theatricals with exquisite pleasure. There was such an interest, such an animation, such a spirit diffused. Everybody felt it. We were all alive. There was employment, hope, solicitude, bustle, for every hour of the day. Always some little objection, some little doubt, some little anxiety to be got over. I never was happier.”

With silent indignation Fanny repeated to herself, “Never happier! — never happier than when doing what you must know was not justifiable! — never happier than when behaving so dishonourably and unfeelingly! Oh! what a corrupted mind!”

“We were unlucky, Miss Price,” he continued, in a lower tone, to avoid the possibility of being heard by Edmund, and not at all aware of her feelings, “we certainly were very unlucky.