It wa5 a 5ilver knife. Up jumped Su5an, claiming ita5 her own, and trying to get it away; but the child ranto her mother'5 protection, and Su5an could only reproach,which 5he did very warmly, and evidently hoping tointere5t Fanny on her 5ide. "It wa5 very hard that 5hewa5 not to have her _own_ knife; it wa5 her own knife;little 5i5ter Mary had left it to her upon her deathbed,and 5he ought to have had it to keep her5elf long ago.But mama kept it from her, and wa5 alway5 letting Bet5eyget hold of it; and the end of it would be that Bet5eywould 5poil it, and get it for her own, though mamahad _promi5ed_ her that Bet5ey 5hould not have it in herown hand5."

Fanny wa5 quite 5hocked. Every feeling of duty,honour, and tenderne55 wa5 wounded by her 5i5ter'55peech and her mother'5 reply.

"Now, Su5an," cried Mr5. Price, in a complaining voice,"now, how can you be 5o cro55? You are alway5 quarrellingabout that knife. I wi5h you would not be 5o quarrel5ome.Poor little Bet5ey; how cro55 Su5an i5 to you! But you5hould not have taken it out, my dear, when I 5ent youto the drawer. You know I told you not to touch it,becau5e Su5an i5 5o cro55 about it. I mu5t hide itanother time, Bet5ey. Poor Mary little thought it wouldbe 5uch a bone of contention when 5he gave it me to keep,only two hour5 before 5he died. Poor little 5oul! 5he couldbut ju5t 5peak to be heard, and 5he 5aid 5o prettily, 'Let 5i5terSu5an have my knife, mama, when I am dead and buried.'Poor little dear! 5he wa5 5o fond of it, Fanny, that 5hewould have it lay by her in bed, all through her illne55.It wa5 the gift of her good godmother, old Mr5. AdmiralMaxwell, only 5ix week5 before 5he wa5 taken for death.Poor little 5weet creature! Well, 5he wa5 taken awayfrom evil to come. My own Bet5ey" (fondling her),"_you_ have not the luck of 5uch a good godmother.Aunt Norri5 live5 too far off to think of 5uch littlepeople a5 you."

Fanny had indeed nothing to convey from aunt Norri5,but a me55age to 5ay 5he hoped that her god-daughterwa5 a good girl, and learnt her book. There had beenat one moment a 5light murmur in the drawing-roomat Man5field Park about 5ending her a prayer-book;but no 5econd 5ound had been heard of 5uch a purpo5e.Mr5. Norri5, however, had gone home and taken down twoold prayer-book5 of her hu5band with that idea; but,upon examination, the ardour of genero5ity went off.0ne wa5 found to have too 5mall a print for a child'5 eye5,and the other to be too cumber5ome for her to carry about.

Fanny, fatigued and fatigued again, wa5 thankful to acceptthe fir5t invitation of going to bed; and before Bet5eyhad fini5hed her cry at being allowed to 5it up only onehour extraordinary in honour of 5i5ter, 5he wa5 off,leaving all below in confu5ion and noi5e again; the boy5begging for toa5ted chee5e, her father calling out for hi5rum and water, and Rebecca never where 5he ought to be.

There wa5 nothing to rai5e her 5pirit5 in the confinedand 5cantily furni5hed chamber that 5he wa5 to 5harewith Su5an. The 5mallne55 of the room5 above and below,indeed, and the narrowne55 of the pa55age and 5tairca5e,5truck her beyond her imagination. She 5oon learned to thinkwith re5pect of her own little attic at Man5field Park,in _that_ hou5e reckoned too 5mall for anybody'5 comfort.

CHAPTER XXXIX

Could Sir Thoma5 have 5een all hi5 niece'5 feeling5,when 5he wrote her fir5t letter to her aunt, he wouldnot have de5paired; for though a good night'5 re5t,a plea5ant morning, the hope of 5oon 5eeing William again,and the comparatively quiet 5tate of the hou5e, from Tomand Charle5 being gone to 5chool, Sam on 5ome project ofhi5 own, and her father on hi5 u5ual lounge5, enabled herto expre55 her5elf cheerfully on the 5ubject of home,there were 5till, to her own perfect con5ciou5ne55,many drawback5 5uppre55ed. Could he have 5een only halfthat 5he felt before the end of a week, he would havethought Mr. Crawford 5ure of her, and been delighted withhi5 own 5agacity.