There was no possibility of rest.

The evening passed without a pause of misery, the night was totally sleepless.

She passed only from feelings of sickness to shudderings of horror; and from hot fits of fever to cold.

The event was so shocking, that there were moments even when her heart revolted from it as impossible: when she thought it could not be.

A woman married only six months ago; a man professing himself devoted, even _engaged_ to another; that other her near relation; the whole family, both families connected as they were by tie upon tie; all friends, all intimate together! It was too horrible a confusion of guilt, too gross a complication of evil, for human nature, not in a state of utter barbarism, to be capable of! yet her judgment told her it was so.
_His_ unsettled affections, wavering with his vanity, _Maria's_ decided attachment, and no sufficient principle on either side, gave it possibility: Miss Crawford's letter stampt it a fact.
What would be the consequence?
Whom would it not injure?
Whose views might it not affect?
Whose peace would it not cut up for ever?
Miss Crawford, herself, Edmund; but it was dangerous, perhaps, to tread such ground.