Chapter 19

A few day s passed away, and Catherine, though not allowing herself to

suspect her friend, could not help watching her closely. The result of her observations was not agreeable. Isabella seem ed an altered creature. When she saw her, indeed, surrounded only by their im m ediate friends in Edgar’s Buildings or Pulteney Street, her change of m anners was so trifling that, had it gone no farther, it m ight have passed unnoticed. A som ething of languid indifference, or of that boasted absence of m ind which Catherine had never heard of before, would occasionally com e across her; but had nothing worse appeared, that m ight only have spread a new grace and inspired a warm er interest. But when Catherine saw her in public, adm itting Captain Tilney ’s attentions as readily as they were offered, and allowing him alm ost an equal share with Jam es in her notice and sm iles, the alteration becam e too positive to be passed over. What could be m eant by such unsteady conduct, what her friend could be at, was bey ond her com prehension. Isabella could not be aware of the pain she was inflicting; but it was a degree of wilful thoughtlessness which Catherine could not but resent. Jam es was the sufferer. She saw him grave and uneasy ; and however careless of his present com fort the wom an m ight be who had given him her heart, to her it was alway s an obj ect. For poor Captain Tilney too she was greatly concerned. Though his looks did not please her, his nam e was a passport to her goodwill, and she thought with sincere com passion of his approaching disappointm ent; for, in spite of what she had believed herself to overhear in the pum p-room , his behaviour was so incom patible with a knowledge of Isabella’s engagem ent that she could not, upon reflection, im agine him aware of it. He m ight be j ealous of her brother as a rival, but if m ore had seem ed im plied, the fault m ust have been in her m isapprehension. She wished, by a gentle rem onstrance, to rem ind Isabella of her situation, and m ake her aware of this double unkindness; but for rem onstrance, either opportunity or com prehension was alway s against her. If able to suggest a hint, Isabella could never understand it. In this distress, the intended departure of the Tilney fam ily becam e her chief consolation; their j ourney into Gloucestershire was to take place within a few day s, and Captain Tilney ’s rem oval would at least restore peace to every heart but his own. But Captain Tilney had at present no intention of rem oving; he was not to be of the party to Northanger; he was to continue at Bath. When Catherine knew this, her resolution was directly m ade. She spoke to Henry Tilney on the subj ect, regretting his brother’s evident partiality for Miss Thorpe, and entreating him to m ake known her prior engagem ent.

“My brother does know it,” was Henry ’s answer. “Does he? Then why does he stay here?”

He m ade no reply, and was beginning to talk of som ething else; but she eagerly continued, “Why do not y ou persuade him to go away ? The longer he stay s, the worse it will be for him at last. Pray advise him for his own sake, and for every body ’s sake, to leave Bath directly. Absence will in tim e m ake him com fortable again; but he can have no hope here, and it is only stay ing to be m iserable.”

Henry sm iled and said, “I am sure m y brother would not wish to do

that.”

“Then y ou will persuade him to go away ?”

“Persuasion is not at com m and; but pardon m e, if I cannot even

endeavour to persuade him . I have m y self told him that Miss Thorpe is engaged. He knows what he is about, and m ust be his own m aster.”

“No, he does not know what he is about,” cried Catherine; “he does not

know the pain he is giving m y brother. Not that Jam es has ever told m e so, but I am sure he is very uncom fortable.”

“And are y ou sure it is m y brother’s doing?”

“Yes, very sure.”

“Is it m y brother’s attentions to Miss Thorpe, or Miss Thorpe’s adm ission

of them , that gives the pain?”

“Is not it the sam e thing?”

“I think Mr. Morland would acknowledge a difference. No m an is

offended by another m an’s adm iration of the wom an he loves; it is the wom an only who can m ake it a torm ent.”

Catherine blushed for her friend, and said, “Isabella is wrong. But I am

sure she cannot m ean to torm ent, for she is very m uch attached to m y brother. She has been in love with him ever since they first m et, and while m y father’s consent was uncertain, she fretted herself alm ost into a fever. You know she m ust be attached to him .”

“I understand: she is in love with Jam es, and flirts with Frederick.”

“Oh! no, not flirts. A wom an in love with one m an cannot flirt with

another.”

“It is probable that she will neither love so well, nor flirt so well, as she

m ight do either singly. The gentlem en m ust each give up a little.”

After a short pause, Catherine resum ed with, “Then y ou do not believe

Isabella so very m uch attached to m y brother?”

“I can have no opinion on that subj ect.”

“But what can y our brother m ean? If he knows her engagem ent, what

can he m ean by his behaviour?”

“You are a very close questioner.”

“Am I? I only ask what I want to be told.”

“But do y ou only ask what I can be expected to tell?”

“Yes, I think so; for y ou m ust know y our brother’s heart.”

“My brother’s heart, as y ou term it, on the present occasion, I assure

y ou I can only guess at.”

“Well?”

“Well! Nay, if it is to be guesswork, let us all guess for ourselves. To be

guided by second-hand conj ecture is pitiful. The prem ises are before y ou. My brother is a lively and perhaps som etim es a thoughtless y oung m an; he has had about a week’s acquaintance with y our friend, and he has known her engagem ent alm ost as long as he has known her.”

“Well,” said Catherine, after som e m om ents’ consideration, “y ou m ay

be able to guess at y our brother’s intentions from all this; but I am sure I cannot. But is not y our father uncom fortable about it? Does not he want Captain Tilney to go away ? Sure, if y our father were to speak to him , he would go.”

“My dear Miss Morland,” said Henry, “in this am iable solicitude for

y our brother’s com fort, m ay y ou not be a little m istaken? Are y ou not carried a little too far? Would he thank y ou, either on his own account or Miss Thorpe’s, for supposing that her affection, or at least her good behaviour, is only to be secured by her seeing nothing of Captain Tilney ? Is he safe only in solitude? Or is her heart constant to him only when unsolicited by any one else? He cannot think this – and y ou m ay be sure that he would not have y ou think it. I will not say, ‘Do not be uneasy,’ because I know that y ou are so, at this m om ent; but be as little uneasy as y ou can. You have no doubt of the m utual attachm ent of y our brother and y our friend; depend upon it, therefore, that real j ealousy never can exist between them ; depend upon it that no disagreem ent between them can be of any duration. Their hearts are open to each other, as neither heart can be to y ou; they know exactly what is required and what can be borne; and y ou m ay be certain that one will never tease the other bey ond what is known to be pleasant.”

Perceiving her still to look doubtful and grave, he added, “Though

Frederick does not leave Bath with us, he will probably rem ain but a very short tim e, perhaps only a few day s behind us. His leave of absence will soon expire, and he m ust return to his regim ent. And what will then be their acquaintance? The m ess-room will drink Isabella Thorpe for a fortnight, and she will laugh with y our brother over poor Tilney ’s passion for a m onth.”

Catherine would contend no longer against com fort. She had resisted its

approaches during the whole length of a speech, but it now carried her captive. Henry Tilney m ust know best. She blam ed herself for the extent of her fears, and resolved never to think so seriously on the subj ect again.

Her resolution was supported by Isabella’s behaviour in their parting

interview. The Thorpes spent the last evening of Catherine’s stay in Pulteney Street, and nothing passed between the lovers to excite her uneasiness, or m ake her quit them in apprehension. Jam es was in excellent spirits, and Isabella m ost engagingly placid. Her tenderness for her friend seem ed rather the first feeling of her heart; but that at such a m om ent was allowable; and once she gave her lover a flat contradiction, and once she drew back her hand; but Catherine rem em bered Henry ’s instructions, and placed it all to j udicious affection. The em braces, tears, and prom ises of the parting fair ones m ay be fancied.