Under this infatuating principle, counteracted by no real affection for her sister, it was impossible for her to aim at more than the credit of projecting and arranging so expensive a charity; though perhaps she might so little know herself as to walk home to the Parsonage, after this conversation, in the happy belief of being the most liberal-minded sister and aunt in the world.
When the subject was brought forward again, her views were more fully explained; and, in reply to Lady Bertram's calm inquiry of "Where shall the child come to first, sister, to you or to us ?" Sir Thomas heard with some surprise that it would be totally out of Mrs.Norris's power to take any share in the personal charge of her.

He had been considering her as a particularly welcome addition at the Parsonage, as a desirable companion to an aunt who had no children of her own; but he found himself wholly mistaken.

Mrs.Norris was sorry to say that the little girl's staying with them, at least as things then were, was quite out of the question.

Poor Mr.Norris's indifferent state of health made it an impossibility: he could no more bear the noise of a child than he could fly; if, indeed, he should ever get well of his gouty complaints, it would be a different matter: she should then be glad to take her turn, and think nothing of the inconvenience; but just now, poor Mr.Norris took up every moment of her time, and the very mention of such a thing she was sure would distract him.
"Then she had better come to us," said Lady Bertram, with the utmost composure.

After a short pause Sir Thomas added with dignity, "Yes, let her home be in this house.