CHAPTER 9
The progress of Catherine's unhappiness from the events of the eveningwas as follows. It appeared first in a general dissatisfaction witheverybody about her, while she remained in the rooms, which speedilybrought on considerable weariness and a violent desire to go home. This,on arriving in Pulteney Street, took the direction of extraordinaryhunger, and when that was appeased, changed into an earnest longing tobe in bed; such was the extreme point of her distress; for when thereshe immediately fell into a sound sleep which lasted nine hours, andfrom which she awoke perfectly revived, in excellent spirits, with freshhopes and fresh schemes. The first wish of her heart was to improve heracquaintance with Miss Tilney, and almost her first resolution, to seekher for that purpose, in the pump-room at noon. In the pump-room, oneso newly arrived in Bath must be met with, and that building she hadalready found so favourable for the discovery of female excellence,and the completion of female intimacy, so admirably adapted for secretdiscourses and unlimited confidence, that she was most reasonablyencouraged to expect another friend from within its walls. Her planfor the morning thus settled, she sat quietly down to her book afterbreakfast, resolving to remain in the same place and the same employmenttill the clock struck one; and from habitude very little incommoded bythe remarks and ejaculations of Mrs. Allen, whose vacancy of mind andincapacity for thinking were such, that as she never talked a greatdeal, so she could never be entirely silent; and, therefore, while shesat at her work, if she lost her needle or broke her thread, if sheheard a carriage in the street, or saw a speck upon her gown, she mustobserve it aloud, whether there were anyone at leisure to answer her ornot. At about half past twelve, a remarkably loud rap drew her in hasteto the window, and scarcely had she time to inform Catherine of therebeing two open carriages at the door, in the first only a servant,her brother driving Miss Thorpe in the second, before John Thorpe camerunning upstairs, calling out, ”Well, Miss Morland, here I am. Haveyou been waiting long? We could not come before; the old devil of acoachmaker was such an eternity finding out a thing fit to be got into,and now it is ten thousand to one but they break down before we are outof the street. How do you do, Mrs. Allen? A famous ball last night, wasnot it? Come, Miss Morland, be quick, for the others are in a confoundedhurry to be off. They want to get their tumble over.”
”What do you mean?” said Catherine. ”Where are you all going to?”
”Going to? Why, you have not forgot our engagement! Did not we agreetogether to take a drive this morning? What a head you have! We aregoing up Claverton Down.”
”Something was said about it, I remember,” said Catherine, looking atMrs. Allen for her opinion; ”but really I did not expect you.”
”Not expect me! That's a good one! And what a dust you would have made,if I had not come.”
Catherine's silent appeal to her friend, meanwhile, was entirely thrownaway, for Mrs. Allen, not being at all in the habit of conveying anyexpression herself by a look, was not aware of its being ever intendedby anybody else; and Catherine, whose desire of seeing Miss Tilney againcould at that moment bear a short delay in favour of a drive, and whothought there could be no impropriety in her going with Mr. Thorpe, asIsabella was going at the same time with James, was therefore obliged tospeak plainer. ”Well, ma'am, what do you say to it? Can you spare me foran hour or two? Shall I go?”
”Do just as you please, my dear,” replied Mrs. Allen, with the mostplacid indifference. Catherine took the advice, and ran off to getready. In a very few minutes she reappeared, having scarcely allowedthe two others time enough to get through a few short sentences in herpraise, after Thorpe had procured Mrs. Allen's admiration of his gig;and then receiving her friend's parting good wishes, they both hurrieddownstairs. ”My dearest creature,” cried Isabella, to whom the dutyof friendship immediately called her before she could get into thecarriage, ”you have been at least three hours getting ready. I wasafraid you were ill. What a delightful ball we had last night. I have athousand things to say to you; but make haste and get in, for I long tobe off.”
Catherine followed her orders and turned away, but not too soon to hearher friend exclaim aloud to James, ”What a sweet girl she is! I quitedote on her.”
”You will not be frightened, Miss Morland,” said Thorpe, as he handedher in, ”if my horse should dance about a little at first setting off.He will, most likely, give a plunge or two, and perhaps take the restfor a minute; but he will soon know his master. He is full of spirits,playful as can be, but there is no vice in him.”
Catherine did not think the portrait a very inviting one, but it was toolate to retreat, and she was too young to own herself frightened; so,resigning herself to her fate, and trusting to the animal's boastedknowledge of its owner, she sat peaceably down, and saw Thorpe sit downby her. Everything being then arranged, the servant who stood at thehorse's head was bid in an important voice ”to let him go,” and off theywent in the quietest manner imaginable, without a plunge or a caper, oranything like one. Catherine, delighted at so happy an escape, spokeher pleasure aloud with grateful surprise; and her companion immediatelymade the matter perfectly simple by assuring her that it was entirelyowing to the peculiarly judicious manner in which he had then held thereins, and the singular discernment and dexterity with which he haddirected his whip. Catherine, though she could not help wondering thatwith such perfect command of his horse, he should think it necessary toalarm her with a relation of its tricks, congratulated herself sincerelyon being under the care of so excellent a coachman; and perceiving thatthe animal continued to go on in the same quiet manner, withoutshowing the smallest propensity towards any unpleasant vivacity, and(considering its inevitable pace was ten miles an hour) by no meansalarmingly fast, gave herself up to all the enjoyment of air andexercise of the most invigorating kind, in a fine mild day of February,with the consciousness of safety. A silence of several minutes succeededtheir first short dialogue; it was broken by Thorpe's saying veryabruptly, ”Old Allen is as rich as a Jew--is not he?” Catherine did notunderstand him--and he repeated his question, adding in explanation,”Old Allen, the man you are with.”
”Oh! Mr. Allen, you mean. Yes, I believe, he is very rich.”
”And no children at all?”
”No--not any.”
”A famous thing for his next heirs. He is your godfather, is not he?”
”My godfather! No.”
”But you are always very much with them.”
”Yes, very much.”
”Aye, that is what I meant. He seems a good kind of old fellow enough,and has lived very well in his time, I dare say; he is not gouty fornothing. Does he drink his bottle a day now?”
”His bottle a day! No. Why should you think of such a thing? He is avery temperate man, and you could not fancy him in liquor last night?”
”Lord help you! You women are always thinking of men's being in liquor.Why, you do not suppose a man is overset by a bottle? I am sure ofthis--that if everybody was to drink their bottle a day, there would notbe half the disorders in the world there are now. It would be a famousgood thing for us all.”
”I cannot believe it.”
”Oh! Lord, it would be the saving of thousands. There is not thehundredth part of the wine consumed in this kingdom that there ought tobe. Our foggy climate wants help.”
”And yet I have heard that there is a great deal of wine drunk inOxford.”
”Oxford! There is no drinking at Oxford now, I assure you. Nobody drinksthere. You would hardly meet with a man who goes beyond his four pintsat the utmost. Now, for instance, it was reckoned a remarkable thing, atthe last party in my rooms, that upon an average we cleared about fivepints a head. It was looked upon as something out of the common way.Mine is famous good stuff, to be sure. You would not often meet withanything like it in Oxford--and that may account for it. But this willjust give you a notion of the general rate of drinking there.”
”Yes, it does give a notion,” said Catherine warmly, ”and that is, thatyou all drink a great deal more wine than I thought you did. However, Iam sure James does not drink so much.”
This declaration brought on a loud and overpowering reply, of whichno part was very distinct, except the frequent exclamations, amountingalmost to oaths, which adorned it, and Catherine was left, when itended, with rather a strengthened belief of there being a great dealof wine drunk in Oxford, and the same happy conviction of her brother'scomparative sobriety.
Thorpe's ideas then all reverted to the merits of his own equipage, andshe was called on to admire the spirit and freedom with which his horsemoved along, and the ease which his paces, as well as the excellence ofthe springs, gave the motion of the carriage. She followed him in allhis admiration as well as she could. To go before or beyond him wasimpossible. His knowledge and her ignorance of the subject, his rapidityof expression, and her diffidence of herself put that out of her power;she could strike out nothing new in commendation, but she readily echoedwhatever he chose to assert, and it was finally settled between themwithout any difficulty that his equipage was altogether the mostcomplete of its kind in England, his carriage the neatest, his horse thebest goer, and himself the best coachman. ”You do not really think,Mr. Thorpe,” said Catherine, venturing after some time to consider thematter as entirely decided, and to offer some little variation on thesubject, ”that James's gig will break down?”
”Break down! Oh! Lord! Did you ever see such a little tittuppy thing inyour life? There is not a sound piece of iron about it. The wheels havebeen fairly worn out these ten years at least--and as for the body! Uponmy soul, you might shake it to pieces yourself with a touch. It is themost devilish little rickety business I ever beheld! Thank God! wehave got a better. I would not be bound to go two miles in it for fiftythousand pounds.”
”Good heavens!” cried Catherine, quite frightened. ”Then pray let usturn back; they will certainly meet with an accident if we go on. Do letus turn back, Mr. Thorpe; stop and speak to my brother, and tell him howvery unsafe it is.”
”Unsafe! Oh, lord! What is there in that? They will only get a roll ifit does break down; and there is plenty of dirt; it will be excellentfalling. Oh, curse it! The carriage is safe enough, if a man knows howto drive it; a thing of that sort in good hands will last above twentyyears after it is fairly worn out. Lord bless you! I would undertake forfive pounds to drive it to York and back again, without losing a nail.”
Catherine listened with astonishment; she knew not how to reconcile twosuch very different accounts of the same thing; for she had not beenbrought up to understand the propensities of a rattle, nor to know tohow many idle assertions and impudent falsehoods the excess of vanitywill lead. Her own family were plain, matter-of-fact people who seldomaimed at wit of any kind; her father, at the utmost, being contentedwith a pun, and her mother with a proverb; they were not in the habittherefore of telling lies to increase their importance, or of assertingat one moment what they would contradict the next. She reflected on theaffair for some time in much perplexity, and was more than once on thepoint of requesting from Mr. Thorpe a clearer insight into his realopinion on the subject; but she checked herself, because it appeared toher that he did not excel in giving those clearer insights, in makingthose things plain which he had before made ambiguous; and, joining tothis, the consideration that he would not really suffer his sister andhis friend to be exposed to a danger from which he might easily preservethem, she concluded at last that he must know the carriage to be in factperfectly safe, and therefore would alarm herself no longer. By himthe whole matter seemed entirely forgotten; and all the rest of hisconversation, or rather talk, began and ended with himself and his ownconcerns. He told her of horses which he had bought for a trifle andsold for incredible sums; of racing matches, in which his judgment hadinfallibly foretold the winner; of shooting parties, in which he hadkilled more birds (though without having one good shot) than all hiscompanions together; and described to her some famous day's sport, withthe fox-hounds, in which his foresight and skill in directing the dogshad repaired the mistakes of the most experienced huntsman, and in whichthe boldness of his riding, though it had never endangered his own lifefor a moment, had been constantly leading others into difficulties,which he calmly concluded had broken the necks of many.
Little as Catherine was in the habit of judging for herself, and unfixedas were her general notions of what men ought to be, she could notentirely repress a doubt, while she bore with the effusions of hisendless conceit, of his being altogether completely agreeable. It was abold surmise, for he was Isabella's brother; and she had been assured byJames that his manners would recommend him to all her sex; but in spiteof this, the extreme weariness of his company, which crept over herbefore they had been out an hour, and which continued unceasingly toincrease till they stopped in Pulteney Street again, induced her, insome small degree, to resist such high authority, and to distrust hispowers of giving universal pleasure.
When they arrived at Mrs. Allen's door, the astonishment of Isabella washardly to be expressed, on finding that it was too late in the day forthem to attend her friend into the house: ”Past three o'clock!” It wasinconceivable, incredible, impossible! And she would neither believe herown watch, nor her brother's, nor the servant's; she would believe noassurance of it founded on reason or reality, till Morland produced hiswatch, and ascertained the fact; to have doubted a moment longer thenwould have been equally inconceivable, incredible, and impossible; andshe could only protest, over and over again, that no two hours and ahalf had ever gone off so swiftly before, as Catherine was called on toconfirm; Catherine could not tell a falsehood even to please Isabella;but the latter was spared the misery of her friend's dissenting voice,by not waiting for her answer. Her own feelings entirely engrossedher; her wretchedness was most acute on finding herself obliged to godirectly home. It was ages since she had had a moment's conversationwith her dearest Catherine; and, though she had such thousands of thingsto say to her, it appeared as if they were never to be together again;so, with smiles of most exquisite misery, and the laughing eye of utterdespondency, she bade her friend adieu and went on.
Catherine found Mrs. Allen just returned from all the busy idleness ofthe morning, and was immediately greeted with, ”Well, my dear, hereyou are,” a truth which she had no greater inclination than power todispute; ”and I hope you have had a pleasant airing?”
”Yes, ma'am, I thank you; we could not have had a nicer day.”
”So Mrs. Thorpe said; she was vastly pleased at your all going.”
”You have seen Mrs. Thorpe, then?”
”Yes, I went to the pump-room as soon as you were gone, and there I mether, and we had a great deal of talk together. She says there was hardlyany veal to be got at market this morning, it is so uncommonly scarce.”
”Did you see anybody else of our acquaintance?”
”Yes; we agreed to take a turn in the Crescent, and there we met Mrs.Hughes, and Mr. and Miss Tilney walking with her.”
”Did you indeed? And did they speak to you?”
”Yes, we walked along the Crescent together for half an hour. They seemvery agreeable people. Miss Tilney was in a very pretty spottedmuslin, and I fancy, by what I can learn, that she always dresses veryhandsomely. Mrs. Hughes talked to me a great deal about the family.”
”And what did she tell you of them?”
”Oh! A vast deal indeed; she hardly talked of anything else.”
”Did she tell you what part of Gloucestershire they come from?”
”Yes, she did; but I cannot recollect now. But they are very good kindof people, and very rich. Mrs. Tilney was a Miss Drummond, and sheand Mrs. Hughes were schoolfellows; and Miss Drummond had a very largefortune; and, when she married, her father gave her twenty thousandpounds, and five hundred to buy wedding-clothes. Mrs. Hughes saw all theclothes after they came from the warehouse.”
”And are Mr. and Mrs. Tilney in Bath?”
”Yes, I fancy they are, but I am not quite certain. Upon recollection,however, I have a notion they are both dead; at least the mother is;yes, I am sure Mrs. Tilney is dead, because Mrs. Hughes told me therewas a very beautiful set of pearls that Mr. Drummond gave his daughteron her wedding-day and that Miss Tilney has got now, for they were putby for her when her mother died.”
”And is Mr. Tilney, my partner, the only son?”
”I cannot be quite positive about that, my dear; I have some idea he is;but, however, he is a very fine young man, Mrs. Hughes says, and likelyto do very well.”
Catherine inquired no further; she had heard enough to feel thatMrs. Allen had no real intelligence to give, and that she was mostparticularly unfortunate herself in having missed such a meeting withboth brother and sister. Could she have foreseen such a circumstance,nothing should have persuaded her to go out with the others; and, asit was, she could only lament her ill luck, and think over what she hadlost, till it was clear to her that the drive had by no means been verypleasant and that John Thorpe himself was quite disagreeable.