CHAPTER 11
The morrow brought a very sober-looking morning, the sun making onlya few efforts to appear, and Catherine augured from it everything mostfavourable to her wishes. A bright morning so early in the year,she allowed, would generally turn to rain, but a cloudy one foretoldimprovement as the day advanced. She applied to Mr. Allen forconfirmation of her hopes, but Mr. Allen, not having his own skies andbarometer about him, declined giving any absolute promise of sunshine.She applied to Mrs. Allen, and Mrs. Allen's opinion was more positive.”She had no doubt in the world of its being a very fine day, if theclouds would only go off, and the sun keep out.”
At about eleven o'clock, however, a few specks of small rain upon thewindows caught Catherine's watchful eye, and ”Oh! dear, I do believe itwill be wet,” broke from her in a most desponding tone.
”I thought how it would be,” said Mrs. Allen.
”No walk for me today,” sighed Catherine; ”but perhaps it may come tonothing, or it may hold up before twelve.”
”Perhaps it may, but then, my dear, it will be so dirty.”
”Oh! That will not signify; I never mind dirt.”
”No,” replied her friend very placidly, ”I know you never mind dirt.”
After a short pause, ”It comes on faster and faster!” said Catherine, asshe stood watching at a window.
”So it does indeed. If it keeps raining, the streets will be very wet.”
”There are four umbrellas up already. How I hate the sight of anumbrella!”
”They are disagreeable things to carry. I would much rather take a chairat any time.”
”It was such a nice-looking morning! I felt so convinced it would bedry!”
”Anybody would have thought so indeed. There will be very few people inthe pump-room, if it rains all the morning. I hope Mr. Allen will puton his greatcoat when he goes, but I dare say he will not, for he hadrather do anything in the world than walk out in a greatcoat; I wonderhe should dislike it, it must be so comfortable.”
The rain continued--fast, though not heavy. Catherine went every fiveminutes to the clock, threatening on each return that, if it stillkept on raining another five minutes, she would give up the matter ashopeless. The clock struck twelve, and it still rained. ”You will not beable to go, my dear.”
”I do not quite despair yet. I shall not give it up till a quarter aftertwelve. This is just the time of day for it to clear up, and I do thinkit looks a little lighter. There, it is twenty minutes after twelve, andnow I shall give it up entirely. Oh! That we had such weather hereas they had at Udolpho, or at least in Tuscany and the south ofFrance!--the night that poor St. Aubin died!--such beautiful weather!”
At half past twelve, when Catherine's anxious attention to the weatherwas over and she could no longer claim any merit from its amendment, thesky began voluntarily to clear. A gleam of sunshine took her quite bysurprise; she looked round; the clouds were parting, and she instantlyreturned to the window to watch over and encourage the happy appearance.Ten minutes more made it certain that a bright afternoon would succeed,and justified the opinion of Mrs. Allen, who had ”always thought itwould clear up.” But whether Catherine might still expect her friends,whether there had not been too much rain for Miss Tilney to venture,must yet be a question.
It was too dirty for Mrs. Allen to accompany her husband to thepump-room; he accordingly set off by himself, and Catherine had barelywatched him down the street when her notice was claimed by the approachof the same two open carriages, containing the same three people thathad surprised her so much a few mornings back.
”Isabella, my brother, and Mr. Thorpe, I declare! They are coming forme perhaps--but I shall not go--I cannot go indeed, for you know MissTilney may still call.” Mrs. Allen agreed to it. John Thorpe was soonwith them, and his voice was with them yet sooner, for on the stairs hewas calling out to Miss Morland to be quick. ”Make haste! Make haste!”as he threw open the door. ”Put on your hat this moment--there is notime to be lost--we are going to Bristol. How d'ye do, Mrs. Allen?”
”To Bristol! Is not that a great way off? But, however, I cannot go withyou today, because I am engaged; I expect some friends every moment.”This was of course vehemently talked down as no reason at all; Mrs.Allen was called on to second him, and the two others walked in, to givetheir assistance. ”My sweetest Catherine, is not this delightful? Weshall have a most heavenly drive. You are to thank your brother and mefor the scheme; it darted into our heads at breakfast-time, I verilybelieve at the same instant; and we should have been off two hours agoif it had not been for this detestable rain. But it does not signify,the nights are moonlight, and we shall do delightfully. Oh! I am in suchecstasies at the thoughts of a little country air and quiet! So muchbetter than going to the Lower Rooms. We shall drive directly to Cliftonand dine there; and, as soon as dinner is over, if there is time for it,go on to Kingsweston.”
”I doubt our being able to do so much,” said Morland.
”You croaking fellow!” cried Thorpe. ”We shall be able to do ten timesmore. Kingsweston! Aye, and Blaize Castle too, and anything else we canhear of; but here is your sister says she will not go.”
”Blaize Castle!” cried Catherine. ”What is that?”
”The finest place in England--worth going fifty miles at any time tosee.”
”What, is it really a castle, an old castle?”
”The oldest in the kingdom.”
”But is it like what one reads of?”
”Exactly--the very same.”
”But now really--are there towers and long galleries?”
”By dozens.”
”Then I should like to see it; but I cannot--I cannot go.”
”Not go! My beloved creature, what do you mean?”
”I cannot go, because”--looking down as she spoke, fearful of Isabella'ssmile--”I expect Miss Tilney and her brother to call on me to take acountry walk. They promised to come at twelve, only it rained; but now,as it is so fine, I dare say they will be here soon.”
”Not they indeed,” cried Thorpe; ”for, as we turned into Broad Street, Isaw them--does he not drive a phaeton with bright chestnuts?”
”I do not know indeed.”
”Yes, I know he does; I saw him. You are talking of the man you dancedwith last night, are not you?”
”Yes.”
”Well, I saw him at that moment turn up the Lansdown Road, driving asmart-looking girl.”
”Did you indeed?”
”Did upon my soul; knew him again directly, and he seemed to have gotsome very pretty cattle too.”
”It is very odd! But I suppose they thought it would be too dirty for awalk.”
”And well they might, for I never saw so much dirt in my life. Walk!You could no more walk than you could fly! It has not been so dirty thewhole winter; it is ankle-deep everywhere.”
Isabella corroborated it: ”My dearest Catherine, you cannot form an ideaof the dirt; come, you must go; you cannot refuse going now.”
”I should like to see the castle; but may we go all over it? May we goup every staircase, and into every suite of rooms?”
”Yes, yes, every hole and corner.”
”But then, if they should only be gone out for an hour till it is dryer,and call by and by?”
”Make yourself easy, there is no danger of that, for I heard Tilneyhallooing to a man who was just passing by on horseback, that they weregoing as far as Wick Rocks.”
”Then I will. Shall I go, Mrs. Allen?”
”Just as you please, my dear.”
”Mrs. Allen, you must persuade her to go,” was the general cry. Mrs.Allen was not inattentive to it: ”Well, my dear,” said she, ”suppose yougo.” And in two minutes they were off.
Catherine's feelings, as she got into the carriage, were in a veryunsettled state; divided between regret for the loss of one greatpleasure, and the hope of soon enjoying another, almost its equal indegree, however unlike in kind. She could not think the Tilneys hadacted quite well by her, in so readily giving up their engagement,without sending her any message of excuse. It was now but an hour laterthan the time fixed on for the beginning of their walk; and, in spite ofwhat she had heard of the prodigious accumulation of dirt in the courseof that hour, she could not from her own observation help thinking thatthey might have gone with very little inconvenience. To feel herselfslighted by them was very painful. On the other hand, the delight ofexploring an edifice like Udolpho, as her fancy represented BlaizeCastle to be, was such a counterpoise of good as might console her foralmost anything.
They passed briskly down Pulteney Street, and through Laura Place,without the exchange of many words. Thorpe talked to his horse, and shemeditated, by turns, on broken promises and broken arches, phaetonsand false hangings, Tilneys and trap-doors. As they entered ArgyleBuildings, however, she was roused by this address from her companion,”Who is that girl who looked at you so hard as she went by?”
”Who? Where?”
”On the right-hand pavement--she must be almost out of sight now.”Catherine looked round and saw Miss Tilney leaning on her brother's arm,walking slowly down the street. She saw them both looking back at her.”Stop, stop, Mr. Thorpe,” she impatiently cried; ”it is Miss Tilney; itis indeed. How could you tell me they were gone? Stop, stop, I willget out this moment and go to them.” But to what purpose did she speak?Thorpe only lashed his horse into a brisker trot; the Tilneys, who hadsoon ceased to look after her, were in a moment out of sight round thecorner of Laura Place, and in another moment she was herself whiskedinto the marketplace. Still, however, and during the length of anotherstreet, she entreated him to stop. ”Pray, pray stop, Mr. Thorpe. Icannot go on. I will not go on. I must go back to Miss Tilney.” But Mr.Thorpe only laughed, smacked his whip, encouraged his horse, made oddnoises, and drove on; and Catherine, angry and vexed as she was, havingno power of getting away, was obliged to give up the point and submit.Her reproaches, however, were not spared. ”How could you deceive me so,Mr. Thorpe? How could you say that you saw them driving up the LansdownRoad? I would not have had it happen so for the world. They must thinkit so strange, so rude of me! To go by them, too, without saying a word!You do not know how vexed I am; I shall have no pleasure at Clifton, norin anything else. I had rather, ten thousand times rather, get out now,and walk back to them. How could you say you saw them driving out in aphaeton?” Thorpe defended himself very stoutly, declared he had neverseen two men so much alike in his life, and would hardly give up thepoint of its having been Tilney himself.
Their drive, even when this subject was over, was not likely to be veryagreeable. Catherine's complaisance was no longer what it had been intheir former airing. She listened reluctantly, and her replies wereshort. Blaize Castle remained her only comfort; towards that, she stilllooked at intervals with pleasure; though rather than be disappointed ofthe promised walk, and especially rather than be thought ill of by theTilneys, she would willingly have given up all the happiness which itswalls could supply--the happiness of a progress through a long suite oflofty rooms, exhibiting the remains of magnificent furniture, thoughnow for many years deserted--the happiness of being stopped in their wayalong narrow, winding vaults, by a low, grated door; or even of havingtheir lamp, their only lamp, extinguished by a sudden gust of wind, andof being left in total darkness. In the meanwhile, they proceeded ontheir journey without any mischance, and were within view of the townof Keynsham, when a halloo from Morland, who was behind them, made hisfriend pull up, to know what was the matter. The others then came closeenough for conversation, and Morland said, ”We had better go back,Thorpe; it is too late to go on today; your sister thinks so as well asI. We have been exactly an hour coming from Pulteney Street, very littlemore than seven miles; and, I suppose, we have at least eight more togo. It will never do. We set out a great deal too late. We had muchbetter put it off till another day, and turn round.”
”It is all one to me,” replied Thorpe rather angrily; and instantlyturning his horse, they were on their way back to Bath.
”If your brother had not got such a d--beast to drive,” said he soonafterwards, ”we might have done it very well. My horse would havetrotted to Clifton within the hour, if left to himself, and I havealmost broke my arm with pulling him in to that cursed broken-windedjade's pace. Morland is a fool for not keeping a horse and gig of hisown.”
”No, he is not,” said Catherine warmly, ”for I am sure he could notafford it.”
”And why cannot he afford it?”
”Because he has not money enough.”
”And whose fault is that?”
”Nobody's, that I know of.” Thorpe then said something in the loud,incoherent way to which he had often recourse, about its being ad--thing to be miserly; and that if people who rolled in money could notafford things, he did not know who could, which Catherine did not evenendeavour to understand. Disappointed of what was to have been theconsolation for her first disappointment, she was less and less disposedeither to be agreeable herself or to find her companion so; and theyreturned to Pulteney Street without her speaking twenty words.
As she entered the house, the footman told her that a gentleman and ladyhad called and inquired for her a few minutes after her setting off;that, when he told them she was gone out with Mr. Thorpe, the lady hadasked whether any message had been left for her; and on his saying no,had felt for a card, but said she had none about her, and went away.Pondering over these heart-rending tidings, Catherine walked slowlyupstairs. At the head of them she was met by Mr. Allen, who, on hearingthe reason of their speedy return, said, ”I am glad your brother had somuch sense; I am glad you are come back. It was a strange, wild scheme.”
They all spent the evening together at Thorpe's. Catherine was disturbedand out of spirits; but Isabella seemed to find a pool of commerce, inthe fate of which she shared, by private partnership with Morland, avery good equivalent for the quiet and country air of an inn at Clifton.Her satisfaction, too, in not being at the Lower Rooms was spoken morethan once. ”How I pity the poor creatures that are going there! How gladI am that I am not amongst them! I wonder whether it will be a full ballor not! They have not begun dancing yet. I would not be there forall the world. It is so delightful to have an evening now and thento oneself. I dare say it will not be a very good ball. I know theMitchells will not be there. I am sure I pity everybody that is. But Idare say, Mr. Morland, you long to be at it, do not you? I am sure youdo. Well, pray do not let anybody here be a restraint on you. I dare saywe could do very well without you; but you men think yourselves of suchconsequence.”
Catherine could almost have accused Isabella of being wanting intenderness towards herself and her sorrows, so very little did theyappear to dwell on her mind, and so very inadequate was the comfort sheoffered. ”Do not be so dull, my dearest creature,” she whispered. ”Youwill quite break my heart. It was amazingly shocking, to be sure; butthe Tilneys were entirely to blame. Why were not they more punctual?It was dirty, indeed, but what did that signify? I am sure John and Ishould not have minded it. I never mind going through anything, where afriend is concerned; that is my disposition, and John is just the same;he has amazing strong feelings. Good heavens! What a delightful hand youhave got! Kings, I vow! I never was so happy in my life! I would fiftytimes rather you should have them than myself.”
And now I may dismiss my heroine to the sleepless couch, which is thetrue heroine's portion; to a pillow strewed with thorns and wet withtears. And lucky may she think herself, if she get another good night'srest in the course of the next three months.