Chapter 18

With a m ind thus full of happiness, Catherine was hardly aware that two

or three day s had passed away, without her seeing Isabella for m ore than a few m inutes together. She began first to be sensible of this, and to sigh for her conversation, as she walked along the pum p-room one m orning, by Mrs. Allen’s side, without any thing to say or to hear; and scarcely had she felt a five m inutes’ longing of friendship, before the obj ect of it appeared, and inviting her to a secret conference, led the way to a seat. “This is m y favourite place,” said she as they sat down on a bench between the doors, which com m anded a tolerable view of every body entering at either; “it is so out of the way.”

Catherine, observing that Isabella’s ey es were continually bent towards

one door or the other, as in eager expectation, and rem em bering how often she had been falsely accused of being arch, thought the present a fine opportunity for being really so; and therefore gaily said, “Do not be uneasy, Isabella, Jam es will soon be here.”

“Psha! My dear creature,” she replied, “do not think m e such a

sim pleton as to be alway s wanting to confine him to m y elbow. It would be hideous to be alway s together; we should be the j est of the place. And so y ou are going to Northanger! I am am azingly glad of it. It is one of the finest old places in England, I understand. I shall depend upon a m ost particular description of it.”

“You shall certainly have the best in m y power to give. But who are

y ou looking for? Are y our sisters com ing?”

“I am not looking for any body. One’s ey es m ust be som ewhere, and

y ou know what a foolish trick I have of fixing m ine, when m y thoughts are an hundred m iles off. I am am azingly absent; I believe I am the m ost absent creature in the world. Tilney say s it is alway s the case with m inds of a certain stam p.”

“But I thought, Isabella, y ou had som ething in particular to tell m e?”

“Oh! Yes, and so I have. But here is a proof of what I was say ing. My

poor head, I had quite forgot it. Well, the thing is this: I have j ust had a letter from John; y ou can guess the contents.”

“No, indeed, I cannot.”

“My sweet love, do not be so abom inably affected. What can he write

about, but y ourself? You know he is over head and ears in love with y ou.”

“With m e, dear Isabella!”

“Nay, m y sweetest Catherine, this is being quite absurd! Modesty, and

all that, is very well in its way, but really a little com m on honesty is som etim es quite as becom ing. I have no idea of being so overstrained! It is fishing for com plim ents. His attentions were such as a child m ust have noticed. And it was but half an hour before he left Bath that y ou gave him the m ost positive encouragem ent. He say s so in this letter, say s that he as good as m ade y ou an offer, and that y ou received his advances in the kindest way ; and now he wants m e to urge his suit, and say all m anner of pretty things to y ou. So it is in vain to affect ignorance.”

Catherine, with all the earnestness of truth, expressed her astonishm ent

at such a charge, protesting her innocence of every thought of Mr. Thorpe’s being in love with her, and the consequent im possibility of her having ever intended to encourage him . “As to any attentions on his side, I do declare, upon m y honour, I never was sensible of them for a m om ent – except j ust his asking m e to dance the first day of his com ing. And as to m aking m e an offer, or any thing like it, there m ust be som e unaccountable m istake. I could not have m isunderstood a thing of that kind, y ou know! And, as I ever wish to be believed, I solem nly protest that no sy llable of such a nature ever passed between us. The last half hour before he went away ! It m ust be all and com pletely a m istake, for I did not see him once that whole m orning.”

“But that y ou certainly did, for y ou spent the whole m orning in Edgar’s

Buildings. It was the day y our father’s consent cam e; and I am pretty sure that y ou and John were alone in the parlour som e tim e before y ou left the house.”

“Are y ou? Well, if y ou say it, it was so, I dare say, but for the life of

m e, I cannot recollect it. I do rem em ber now being with y ou, and seeing him as well as the rest, but that we were ever alone for five m inutes. However, it is not worth arguing about, for whatever m ight pass on his side, y ou m ust be convinced, by m y having no recollection of it, that I never thought, nor expected, nor wished for any thing of the kind from him . I am excessively concerned that he should have any regard for m e, but indeed it has been quite unintentional on m y side; I never had the sm allest idea of it. Pray undeceive him as soon as y ou can, and tell him I beg his pardon – that is – I do not know what I ought to say – but m ake him understand what I m ean, in the properest way. I would not speak disrespectfully of a brother of y ours, Isabella, I am sure; but y ou know very well that if I could think of one m an m ore than another – he is not the person.” Isabella was silent. “My dear friend, y ou m ust not be angry with m e. I cannot suppose y our brother cares so very m uch about m e. And, y ou know, we shall still be sisters.”

“Yes, y es” (with a blush), “there are m ore way s than one of our being

sisters. But where am I wandering to? Well, m y dear Catherine, the case seem s to be that y ou are determ ined against poor John – is not it so?”

“I certainly cannot return his affection, and as certainly never m eant to

encourage it.”

“Since that is the case, I am sure I shall not tease y ou any further. John

desired m e to speak to y ou on the subj ect, and therefore I have. But I confess, as soon as I read his letter, I thought it a very foolish, im prudent business, and not likely to prom ote the good of either; for what were y ou to live upon, supposing y ou cam e together? You have both of y ou som ething, to be sure, but it is not a trifle that will support a fam ily nowaday s; and after all that rom ancers m ay say, there is no doing without m oney. I only wonder John could think of it; he could not have received m y last.”

“You do acquit m e, then, of any thing wrong? – You are convinced that I

never m eant to deceive y our brother, never suspected him of liking m e till this m om ent?”

“Oh! As to that,” answered Isabella laughingly, “I do not pretend to

determ ine what y our thoughts and designs in tim e past m ay have been. All that is best known to y ourself. A little harm less flirtation or so will occur, and one is often drawn on to give m ore encouragem ent than one wishes to stand by. But y ou m ay be assured that I am the last person in the world to j udge y ou severely. All those things should be allowed for in y outh and high spirits. What one m eans one day, y ou know, one m ay not m ean the next. Circum stances change, opinions alter.”

“But m y opinion of y our brother never did alter; it was alway s the

sam e. You are describing what never happened.”

“My dearest Catherine,” continued the other without at all listening to

her, “I would not for all the world be the m eans of hurry ing y ou into an engagem ent before y ou knew what y ou were about. I do not think any thing would j ustify m e in wishing y ou to sacrifice all y our happiness m erely to oblige m y brother, because he is m y brother, and who perhaps after all, y ou know, m ight be j ust as happy without y ou, for people seldom know what they would be at, y oung m en especially, they are so am azingly changeable and inconstant. What I say is, why should a brother’s happiness be dearer to m e than a friend’s? You know I carry m y notions of friendship pretty high. But, above all things, m y dear Catherine, do not be in a hurry. Take m y word for it, that if y ou are in too great a hurry, y ou will certainly live to repent it. Tilney say s there is nothing people are so often deceived in as the state of their own affections, and I believe he is very right. Ah! Here he com es; never m ind, he will not see us, I am sure.”

Catherine, looking up, perceived Captain Tilney ; and Isabella, earnestly

fixing her ey e on him as she spoke, soon caught his notice. He approached im -m ediately, and took the seat to which her m ovem ents invited him . His first address m ade Catherine start. Though spoken low, she could distinguish, “What! Alway s to be watched, in person or by proxy !”

“Psha, nonsense!” was Isabella’s answer in the sam e half whisper.

“Why do y ou put such things into m y head? If I could believe it – m y spirit, y ou know, is pretty independent.”

“I wish y our heart were independent. That would be enough for m e.”

“My heart, indeed! What can y ou have to do with hearts? You m en

have none of y ou any hearts.”

“If we have not hearts, we have ey es; and they give us torm ent enough.”

“Do they ? I am sorry for it; I am sorry they find any thing so

disagreeable in m e. I will look another way. I hope this pleases y ou” (turning her back on him ); “I hope y our ey es are not torm ented now.”

“Never m ore so; for the edge of a bloom ing cheek is still in view – at

once too m uch and too little.”

Catherine heard all this, and quite out of countenance, could listen no

longer. Am azed that Isabella could endure it, and j ealous for her brother, she rose up, and say ing she should j oin Mrs. Allen, proposed their walking. But for this Isabella showed no inclination. She was so am azingly tired, and it was so odious to parade about the pum p-room ; and if she m oved from her seat she should m iss her sisters; she was expecting her sisters every m om ent; so that her dearest Catherine m ust excuse her, and m ust sit quietly down again. But Catherine could be stubborn too; and Mrs. Allen j ust then com ing up to propose their returning hom e, she j oined her and walked out of the pum p-room , leaving Isabella still sitting with Captain Tilney. With m uch uneasiness did she thus leave them . It seem ed to her that Captain Tilney was falling in love with Isabella, and Isabella unconsciously encouraging him ; unconsciously it m ust be, for Isabella’s attachm ent to Jam es was as certain and well acknowledged as her engagem ent. To doubt her truth or good intentions was im possible; and y et, during the whole of their conversation her m anner had been odd. She wished Isabella had talked m ore like her usual self, and not so m uch about m oney, and had not looked so well pleased at the sight of Captain Tilney. How strange that she should not perceive his adm iration! Catherine longed to give her a hint of it, to put her on her guard, and prevent all the pain which her too lively behaviour m ight otherwise create both for him and her brother.

The com plim ent of John Thorpe’s affection did not m ake am ends for

this thoughtlessness in his sister. She was alm ost as far from believing as from wishing it to be sincere; for she had not forgotten that he could m istake, and his assertion of the offer and of her encouragem ent convinced her that his m istakes could som etim es be very egregious. In vanity, therefore, she gained but little; her chief profit was in wonder. That he should think it worth his while to fancy him self in love with her was a m atter of lively astonishm ent. Isabella talked of his attentions; she had never been sensible of any ; but Isabella had said m any things which she hoped had been spoken in haste, and would never be said again; and upon this she was glad to rest altogether for present ease and com fort.