Though Julia fancies she prefers tragedy, I would not trust her in it.  There is nothing of tragedy about her.  She has not the look of it.  Her features are not tragic features, and she walks too quick, and speaks too quick, and would not keep her countenance.  She had better do the old countrywoman—­the Cottager’s wife; you had, indeed, Julia.  Cottager’s wife is a very pretty part, I assure you.  The old lady relieves the high-flown benevolence of her husband with a good deal of spirit.  You shall be the Cottager’s wife.”

“Cottager’s wife!” cried Mr. Yates.  “What are you talking of?  The most trivial, paltry, insignificant part; the merest commonplace; not a tolerable speech in the whole.  Your sister do that!  It is an insult to propose it.  At Ecclesford the governess was to have done it.  We all agreed that it could not be offered to anybody else.  A little more justice, Mr. Manager, if you please.  You do not deserve the office if you cannot appreciate the talents of your company a little better.”

“Why, as to that, my good friends, till I and my company have really acted, there must be some guesswork; but I mean no disparagement to Julia.  We cannot have two Agathas, and we must have one Cottager’s wife; and I am sure I set her the example of moderation myself in being satisfied with the old Butler.  If the part is trifling she will have more credit in making something of it:  and if she is so desperately bent against everything humorous, let her take Cottager’s speeches instead of Cottager’s wife’s, and so change the parts all through; he is solemn and pathetic enough, I am sure.  It could make no difference in the play; and as for Cottager himself, when he has got his wife’s speeches, I would undertake him with all my heart.”

“With all your partiality for Cottager’s wife,” said Henry Crawford, “it will be impossible to make anything of it fit for your sister, and we must not suffer her good nature to be imposed on.  We must not allow her to accept the part.  She must not be left to her own complaisance.  Her talents will be wanted in Amelia.  Amelia is a character more difficult to be well represented than even Agatha.  I consider Amelia as the most difficult character in the whole piece.  It requires great powers, great nicety, to give her playfulness and simplicity without extravagance.  I have seen good actresses fail in the part.  Simplicity, indeed, is beyond the reach of almost every actress by profession.  It requires 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.”