Murder at Mansfield Park - Lynn Shepherd [10]
‘Sir Thomas’s letter talked of an avenue. I should like to see that.’
‘Of course, you would not have been able to see it last night, for the drawing-room looks across the lawn. Yes, the avenue is exactly behind the house; it begins at a little distance, and descends for half a mile to the extremity of the grounds. You may see some thing of it here—some thing of the more distant trees. It is oak entirely. But have a care, Crawford, you will lose my cousin Julia as a friend if you propose to have it down. She has a young girl’s romantic attachment to the avenue; she says it makes her think of Cowper.’
‘“Ye fallen avenues, once more I mourn your fate unmerited,”’ said Mary, with a smile. ‘The park is certainly beautiful at this time of year. The woods are some of the finest I have ever seen.’
‘Indeed,’ said Miss Price, looking at her with evident surprise. ‘I had not expected someone so used to the bustle and dirt and noise of London to feel the pleasures of spring so keenly. The animation of body and mind that one can derive from the beginnings and progress of vegetation, the increasing beauties of the earliest flowers—when all is freshness, fragrance, and verdure!’
There was a short silence, then Mr Norris returned to Henry. ‘It is some distance, I am afraid, from this spot to the avenue, and I fear Miss Crawford may have had walking enough for this morning.’
‘I am not tired, I assure you,’ said she. ‘Nothing ever fatigues me but doing what I do not like, and nothing pleases me more than accompanying Henry on his visits. I rarely have a gratification of the kind.’
Mr Norris nodded gravely, and then continued to address Henry, ‘All the same, the park is large—full five miles around—and your survey of the grounds would be better taken on horseback.’
‘My dear Edmund,’ said Miss Price, ‘you forget that a man such as Mr Crawford can scarcely afford to keep three hunters of his own, as you do. But there must be some horse or other in my uncle’s stable that nobody else wants, that Mr Crawford could use while he is here?’
Henry made a low bow. ‘Miss Price is all consideration, but I can assure her that her generous concern is quite unnecessary. Dr Grant has offered me the loan of his road-horse, and as for Mary, well, she is no horsewoman, so the question does not arise.’
‘Would it interest you to learn to ride, Miss Crawford?’ asked Mr Norris, speaking to her for the first time. His addressing her at all was so unexpected that Mary hardly knew what to say, and felt she must look rather foolish, but whatever her confusion, she was still able to observe that, although endeavouring to appear properly demure, Miss Price’s disapprobation was only too evident. Mary thought that Mr Norris must perceive it likewise, and presumed that no more would be said on the subject. What, then, was her increase of astonishment on hearing Mr Norris repeat his offer, adding that he had a quiet mare that would be perfectly fitted for a beginner. What, thought Mary, could he mean by it? Surely he could not be unaware of Miss Price’s views on the subject? But quickly recovering her spirits, she decided that if he saw fit to ignore Miss Price’s feelings, there was no reason for her to respect them, and she accepted the offer with enthusiasm, saying that it would indeed give her great pleasure to learn to ride.
The next morning saw the arrival of Mr Norris at the parsonage, attended by his groom. Henry, who had been waiting with Dr Grant’s horse, lingered only to see Mary lifted on hers before mounting his own and departing for a day’s ride about the estate.
With an active and fearless character, and no want of strength and courage, Mary seemed formed to be a horsewoman, and made her first essay around Dr Grant’s meadow with great credit. When they made their first stop she was rewarded with expressions more nearly approaching warmth than she had so far heard Mr Norris utter, but upon looking up, she became aware that Miss Price had walked down from the Park, and was watching the two of them intently, from