“You must tell me, Miss Pr—Fanny,” Henry said with determination, but his speech up to that point had lacked his usual assurance that everything would go his way and that none could refuse him. His vanity and something more had been wounded by the suspicion that had been growing in his mind for the past few days, putting a check on his felicity in gaining the hand, and, he had been sure, the heart of Fanny Price.

“No, I was not play-acting,” she replied, voice very low, high colour staining her cheeks, “I am not a good enough actress.”