Finished rereading the above. Fanny Price is still a bit of a drip, but being eighteen (and sometimes having all the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone) excuses a lot. She's a good kid and she does her best, and that's about as much as you can ask of anyone that age.
Next, Northanger Abbey, and after that, probably Sanditon, which is not a great Jane Austen novel, but not a bad pastiche; "Another Lady" owes more to Georgette Heyer than to Jane, I fear.
I've tried to read Lady Susan a time or three, but I've got to be pretty awake to handle the epistolary format, and right now, I'm not that awake.
Maybe some Trollope favorites, later this summer, or Vanity Fair. When I run out of new things to read, I go back to my favorite comfort books, and some of those can be a bit odd.