a delicacy of feeling which they have not. It requires
a gentlewoman--a Julia Bertram. You _will_ undertake it,
I hope?" turning to her with a look of anxious entreaty,
which softened her a little; but while she hesitated
what to say, her brother again interposed with Miss
Crawford's better claim.

"No, no, Julia must not be Amelia. It is not at
all the part for her. She would not like it.
She would not do well. She is too tall and robust.
Amelia should be a small, light, girlish, skipping figure.
It is fit for Miss Crawford, and Miss Crawford only.
She looks the part, and I am persuaded will do it admirably."

Without attending to this, Henry Crawford continued
his supplication. "You must oblige us," said he,
"indeed you must. When you have studied the character, I am
sure you will feel it suit you. Tragedy may be your choice,
but it will certainly appear that comedy chuses _you_.
You will be to visit me in prison with a basket of provisions;
you will not refuse to visit me in prison? I think I
see you coming in with your basket."

The influence of his voice was felt. Julia wavered;
but was he only trying to soothe and pacify her, and make
her overlook the previous affront? She distrusted him.
The slight had been most determined. He was, perhaps,
but at treacherous play with her. She looked suspiciously
at her sister; Maria's countenance was to decide it:
if she were vexed and alarmed--but Maria looked all