CHAPTER 15
Early the next day, a note from Isabella, speaking peace and tendernessin every line, and entreating the immediate presence of her friend ona matter of the utmost importance, hastened Catherine, in the happieststate of confidence and curiosity, to Edgar's Buildings. The twoyoungest Miss Thorpes were by themselves in the parlour; and, on Anne'squitting it to call her sister, Catherine took the opportunity of askingthe other for some particulars of their yesterday's party. Maria desiredno greater pleasure than to speak of it; and Catherine immediatelylearnt that it had been altogether the most delightful scheme in theworld, that nobody could imagine how charming it had been, and thatit had been more delightful than anybody could conceive. Such was theinformation of the first five minutes; the second unfolded thus much indetail--that they had driven directly to the York Hotel, ate some soup,and bespoke an early dinner, walked down to the pump-room, tasted thewater, and laid out some shillings in purses and spars; thence adjournedto eat ice at a pastry-cook's, and hurrying back to the hotel, swallowedtheir dinner in haste, to prevent being in the dark; and then had adelightful drive back, only the moon was not up, and it rained a little,and Mr. Morland's horse was so tired he could hardly get it along.
Catherine listened with heartfelt satisfaction. It appeared that BlaizeCastle had never been thought of; and, as for all the rest, there wasnothing to regret for half an instant. Maria's intelligence concludedwith a tender effusion of pity for her sister Anne, whom she representedas insupportably cross, from being excluded the party.
”She will never forgive me, I am sure; but, you know, how could I helpit? John would have me go, for he vowed he would not drive her, becauseshe had such thick ankles. I dare say she will not be in good humouragain this month; but I am determined I will not be cross; it is not alittle matter that puts me out of temper.”
Isabella now entered the room with so eager a step, and a look of suchhappy importance, as engaged all her friend's notice. Maria was withoutceremony sent away, and Isabella, embracing Catherine, thus began: ”Yes,my dear Catherine, it is so indeed; your penetration has not deceivedyou. Oh! That arch eye of yours! It sees through everything.”
Catherine replied only by a look of wondering ignorance.
”Nay, my beloved, sweetest friend,” continued the other, ”composeyourself. I am amazingly agitated, as you perceive. Let us sit down andtalk in comfort. Well, and so you guessed it the moment you had my note?Sly creature! Oh! My dear Catherine, you alone, who know my heart, canjudge of my present happiness. Your brother is the most charming ofmen. I only wish I were more worthy of him. But what will your excellentfather and mother say? Oh! Heavens! When I think of them I am soagitated!”
Catherine's understanding began to awake: an idea of the truth suddenlydarted into her mind; and, with the natural blush of so new an emotion,she cried out, ”Good heaven! My dear Isabella, what do you mean? Canyou--can you really be in love with James?”
This bold surmise, however, she soon learnt comprehended but half thefact. The anxious affection, which she was accused of having continuallywatched in Isabella's every look and action, had, in the course of theiryesterday's party, received the delightful confession of an equal love.Her heart and faith were alike engaged to James. Never had Catherinelistened to anything so full of interest, wonder, and joy. Her brotherand her friend engaged! New to such circumstances, the importance ofit appeared unspeakably great, and she contemplated it as one of thosegrand events, of which the ordinary course of life can hardly afford areturn. The strength of her feelings she could not express; the natureof them, however, contented her friend. The happiness of having such asister was their first effusion, and the fair ladies mingled in embracesand tears of joy.
Delighting, however, as Catherine sincerely did in the prospect of theconnection, it must be acknowledged that Isabella far surpassed herin tender anticipations. ”You will be so infinitely dearer to me, myCatherine, than either Anne or Maria: I feel that I shall be so muchmore attached to my dear Morland's family than to my own.”
This was a pitch of friendship beyond Catherine.
”You are so like your dear brother,” continued Isabella, ”that I quitedoted on you the first moment I saw you. But so it always is with me;the first moment settles everything. The very first day that Morlandcame to us last Christmas--the very first moment I beheld him--my heartwas irrecoverably gone. I remember I wore my yellow gown, with my hairdone up in braids; and when I came into the drawing-room, and Johnintroduced him, I thought I never saw anybody so handsome before.”
Here Catherine secretly acknowledged the power of love; for, thoughexceedingly fond of her brother, and partial to all his endowments, shehad never in her life thought him handsome.
”I remember too, Miss Andrews drank tea with us that evening, and woreher puce-coloured sarsenet; and she looked so heavenly that I thoughtyour brother must certainly fall in love with her; I could not sleepa wink all right for thinking of it. Oh! Catherine, the many sleeplessnights I have had on your brother's account! I would not have you sufferhalf what I have done! I am grown wretchedly thin, I know; but I willnot pain you by describing my anxiety; you have seen enough of it. Ifeel that I have betrayed myself perpetually--so unguarded in speakingof my partiality for the church! But my secret I was always sure wouldbe safe with you.”
Catherine felt that nothing could have been safer; but ashamed of anignorance little expected, she dared no longer contest the point,nor refuse to have been as full of arch penetration and affectionatesympathy as Isabella chose to consider her. Her brother, she found,was preparing to set off with all speed to Fullerton, to make known hissituation and ask consent; and here was a source of some real agitationto the mind of Isabella. Catherine endeavoured to persuade her, as shewas herself persuaded, that her father and mother would never opposetheir son's wishes. ”It is impossible,” said she, ”for parents to bemore kind, or more desirous of their children's happiness; I have nodoubt of their consenting immediately.”
”Morland says exactly the same,” replied Isabella; ”and yet I dare notexpect it; my fortune will be so small; they never can consent to it.Your brother, who might marry anybody!”
Here Catherine again discerned the force of love.
”Indeed, Isabella, you are too humble. The difference of fortune can benothing to signify.”
”Oh! My sweet Catherine, in your generous heart I know it would signifynothing; but we must not expect such disinterestedness in many. As formyself, I am sure I only wish our situations were reversed. Had I thecommand of millions, were I mistress of the whole world, your brotherwould be my only choice.”
This charming sentiment, recommended as much by sense as novelty,gave Catherine a most pleasing remembrance of all the heroines of heracquaintance; and she thought her friend never looked more lovely thanin uttering the grand idea. ”I am sure they will consent,” was herfrequent declaration; ”I am sure they will be delighted with you.”
”For my own part,” said Isabella, ”my wishes are so moderate that thesmallest income in nature would be enough for me. Where people arereally attached, poverty itself is wealth; grandeur I detest: I wouldnot settle in London for the universe. A cottage in some retired villagewould be ecstasy. There are some charming little villas about Richmond.”
”Richmond!” cried Catherine. ”You must settle near Fullerton. You mustbe near us.”
”I am sure I shall be miserable if we do not. If I can but be near you,I shall be satisfied. But this is idle talking! I will not allow myselfto think of such things, till we have your father's answer. Morlandsays that by sending it tonight to Salisbury, we may have it tomorrow.Tomorrow? I know I shall never have courage to open the letter. I knowit will be the death of me.”
A reverie succeeded this conviction--and when Isabella spoke again, itwas to resolve on the quality of her wedding-gown.
Their conference was put an end to by the anxious young lover himself,who came to breathe his parting sigh before he set off for Wiltshire.Catherine wished to congratulate him, but knew not what to say, and hereloquence was only in her eyes. From them, however, the eight parts ofspeech shone out most expressively, and James could combine them withease. Impatient for the realization of all that he hoped at home, hisadieus were not long; and they would have been yet shorter, had he notbeen frequently detained by the urgent entreaties of his fair one thathe would go. Twice was he called almost from the door by her eagernessto have him gone. ”Indeed, Morland, I must drive you away. Consider howfar you have to ride. I cannot bear to see you linger so. For heaven'ssake, waste no more time. There, go, go--I insist on it.”
The two friends, with hearts now more united than ever, were inseparablefor the day; and in schemes of sisterly happiness the hours flew along.Mrs. Thorpe and her son, who were acquainted with everything, andwho seemed only to want Mr. Morland's consent, to consider Isabella'sengagement as the most fortunate circumstance imaginable for theirfamily, were allowed to join their counsels, and add their quota ofsignificant looks and mysterious expressions to fill up the measureof curiosity to be raised in the unprivileged younger sisters. ToCatherine's simple feelings, this odd sort of reserve seemed neitherkindly meant, nor consistently supported; and its unkindness she wouldhardly have forborne pointing out, had its inconsistency been less theirfriend; but Anne and Maria soon set her heart at ease by the sagacity oftheir ”I know what”; and the evening was spent in a sort of war of wit,a display of family ingenuity, on one side in the mystery of an affectedsecret, on the other of undefined discovery, all equally acute.
Catherine was with her friend again the next day, endeavouring tosupport her spirits and while away the many tedious hours beforethe delivery of the letters; a needful exertion, for as the timeof reasonable expectation drew near, Isabella became more and moredesponding, and before the letter arrived, had worked herself into astate of real distress. But when it did come, where could distressbe found? ”I have had no difficulty in gaining the consent of my kindparents, and am promised that everything in their power shall be done toforward my happiness,” were the first three lines, and in one momentall was joyful security. The brightest glow was instantly spread overIsabella's features, all care and anxiety seemed removed, her spiritsbecame almost too high for control, and she called herself withoutscruple the happiest of mortals.
Mrs. Thorpe, with tears of joy, embraced her daughter, her son, hervisitor, and could have embraced half the inhabitants of Bath withsatisfaction. Her heart was overflowing with tenderness. It was ”dearJohn” and ”dear Catherine” at every word; ”dear Anne and dear Maria”must immediately be made sharers in their felicity; and two ”dears” atonce before the name of Isabella were not more than that beloved childhad now well earned. John himself was no skulker in joy. He not onlybestowed on Mr. Morland the high commendation of being one of the finestfellows in the world, but swore off many sentences in his praise.
The letter, whence sprang all this felicity, was short, containinglittle more than this assurance of success; and every particular wasdeferred till James could write again. But for particulars Isabellacould well afford to wait. The needful was comprised in Mr. Morland'spromise; his honour was pledged to make everything easy; and by whatmeans their income was to be formed, whether landed property were tobe resigned, or funded money made over, was a matter in which herdisinterested spirit took no concern. She knew enough to feel secure ofan honourable and speedy establishment, and her imagination took a rapidflight over its attendant felicities. She saw herself at the end ofa few weeks, the gaze and admiration of every new acquaintance atFullerton, the envy of every valued old friend in Putney, with acarriage at her command, a new name on her tickets, and a brilliantexhibition of hoop rings on her finger.
When the contents of the letter were ascertained, John Thorpe, who hadonly waited its arrival to begin his journey to London, prepared to setoff. ”Well, Miss Morland,” said he, on finding her alone in the parlour,”I am come to bid you good-bye.” Catherine wished him a good journey.Without appearing to hear her, he walked to the window, fidgeted about,hummed a tune, and seemed wholly self-occupied.
”Shall not you be late at Devizes?” said Catherine. He made no answer;but after a minute's silence burst out with, ”A famous good thing thismarrying scheme, upon my soul! A clever fancy of Morland's and Belle's.What do you think of it, Miss Morland? I say it is no bad notion.”
”I am sure I think it a very good one.”
”Do you? That's honest, by heavens! I am glad you are no enemy tomatrimony, however. Did you ever hear the old song 'Going to One WeddingBrings on Another?' I say, you will come to Belle's wedding, I hope.”
”Yes; I have promised your sister to be with her, if possible.”
”And then you know”--twisting himself about and forcing a foolishlaugh--”I say, then you know, we may try the truth of this same oldsong.”
”May we? But I never sing. Well, I wish you a good journey. I dine withMiss Tilney today, and must now be going home.”
”Nay, but there is no such confounded hurry. Who knows when we maybe together again? Not but that I shall be down again by the end of afortnight, and a devilish long fortnight it will appear to me.”
”Then why do you stay away so long?” replied Catherine--finding that hewaited for an answer.
”That is kind of you, however--kind and good-natured. I shall not forgetit in a hurry. But you have more good nature and all that, than anybodyliving, I believe. A monstrous deal of good nature, and it is not onlygood nature, but you have so much, so much of everything; and then youhave such--upon my soul, I do not know anybody like you.”
”Oh! dear, there are a great many people like me, I dare say, only agreat deal better. Good morning to you.”
”But I say, Miss Morland, I shall come and pay my respects at Fullertonbefore it is long, if not disagreeable.”
”Pray do. My father and mother will be very glad to see you.”
”And I hope--I hope, Miss Morland, you will not be sorry to see me.”
”Oh! dear, not at all. There are very few people I am sorry to see.Company is always cheerful.”
”That is just my way of thinking. Give me but a little cheerful company,let me only have the company of the people I love, let me only be whereI like and with whom I like, and the devil take the rest, say I. AndI am heartily glad to hear you say the same. But I have a notion, MissMorland, you and I think pretty much alike upon most matters.”
”Perhaps we may; but it is more than I ever thought of. And as to mostmatters, to say the truth, there are not many that I know my own mindabout.”
”By Jove, no more do I. It is not my way to bother my brains with whatdoes not concern me. My notion of things is simple enough. Let me onlyhave the girl I like, say I, with a comfortable house over my head, andwhat care I for all the rest? Fortune is nothing. I am sure of a goodincome of my own; and if she had not a penny, why, so much the better.”
”Very true. I think like you there. If there is a good fortune on oneside, there can be no occasion for any on the other. No matter whichhas it, so that there is enough. I hate the idea of one great fortunelooking out for another. And to marry for money I think the wickedestthing in existence. Good day. We shall be very glad to see you atFullerton, whenever it is convenient.” And away she went. It was not inthe power of all his gallantry to detain her longer. With such news tocommunicate, and such a visit to prepare for, her departure was notto be delayed by anything in his nature to urge; and she hurried away,leaving him to the undivided consciousness of his own happy address, andher explicit encouragement.
The agitation which she had herself experienced on first learning herbrother's engagement made her expect to raise no inconsiderable emotionin Mr. and Mrs. Allen, by the communication of the wonderful event. Howgreat was her disappointment! The important affair, which many words ofpreparation ushered in, had been foreseen by them both ever sinceher brother's arrival; and all that they felt on the occasion wascomprehended in a wish for the young people's happiness, with a remark,on the gentleman's side, in favour of Isabella's beauty, and on thelady's, of her great good luck. It was to Catherine the most surprisinginsensibility. The disclosure, however, of the great secret of James'sgoing to Fullerton the day before, did raise some emotion in Mrs. Allen.She could not listen to that with perfect calmness, but repeatedlyregretted the necessity of its concealment, wished she could have knownhis intention, wished she could have seen him before he went, as sheshould certainly have troubled him with her best regards to his fatherand mother, and her kind compliments to all the Skinners.