thought I was speaking of her son."

Catherine was disappointed and vexed. She seemed
to have missed by so little the very object she had

had in view; and this persuasion did not incline her
to a very gracious reply, when John Thorpe came up

to her soon afterwards and said, "Well, Miss Morland,
I suppose you and I are to stand up and jig it together again."

"Oh, no; I am much obliged to you, our two dances
are over; and, besides, I am tired, and do not mean

to dance any more."
"Do not you? Then let us walk about and quiz people.

Come along with me, and I will show you the four greatest
quizzers in the room; my two younger sisters and their partners.

I have been laughing at them this half hour."
Again Catherine excused herself; and at last he walked

off to quiz his sisters by himself. The rest of the evening
she found very dull; Mr. Tilney was drawn away from their

party at tea, to attend that of his partner; Miss Tilney,
though belonging to it, did not sit near her, and James

and Isabella were so much engaged in conversing together
that the latter had no leisure to bestow more on her friend

than one smile, one squeeze, and one "dearest Catherine."
CHAPTER 9

The progress of Catherine's unhappiness from the
events of the evening was as follows. It appeared first

in a general dissatisfaction with everybody about her,
while she remained in the rooms, which speedily brought

on considerableweariness 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 earnestlonging to be in bed; such was

the extreme point of her distress; for when there
she immediately fell into a sound sleep which lasted

nine hours, and from which she awoke perfectly revived,
in excellent spirits, with fresh hopes and fresh schemes.

The first wish of her heart was to improve her acquaintance
with Miss Tilney, and almost her first resolution,

to seek her for that purpose, in the pump-room at noon.
In the pump-room, one so newly arrived in Bath must

be met with, and that building she had already found
so favourable for the discovery of female excellence,

and the completion of femaleintimacy, so admirably adapted
for secret discourses and unlimited confidence, that she

was most reasonably encouraged to expect another friend from
within its walls. Her plan for the morning thus settled,

she sat quietly down to her book after breakfast,
resolving to remain in the same place and the same employment

till the clock struck one; and from habitude very little
incommoded by the remarks and ejaculations of Mrs. Allen,

whose vacancy of mind and incapacity for thinking were such,
that as she never talked a great deal, so she could never be

entirely silent; and, therefore, while she sat at her work,
if she lost her needle or broke her thread, if she heard

a carriage in the street, or saw a speck upon her gown,
she must observe it aloud, whether there were anyone at

leisure to answer her or not. At about half past twelve,
a remarkably loud rap drew her in haste to the window,

and scarcely had she time to inform Catherine of there
being two open carriages at the door, in the first only

a servant, her brother driving Miss Thorpe in the second,
before John Thorpe came runningupstairs, calling out,

"Well, Miss Morland, here I am. Have you been waiting
long? We could not come before; the old devil of a

coachmaker was such an eternityfinding out a thing
fit to be got into, and now it is ten thousand to one

but they break down before we are out of the street.
How do you do, Mrs. Allen? A famous bag last night,

was not it? Come, Miss Morland, be quick, for the others
are in a confounded hurry 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 agree together to take a drive this

morning? What a head you have! We are going up Claverton Down."
"Something was said about it, I remember,"

said Catherine, looking at Mrs. 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 thrown away, for Mrs. Allen, not being at all

in the habit of conveying any expression herself by a look,
was not aware of its being ever intended by anybody else;

and Catherine, whose desire of seeing Miss Tilney again could
at that moment bear a short delay in favour of a drive,

and who thought there could be no impropriety in her going
with Mr. Thorpe, as Isabella was going at the same time

with James, was therefore obliged to speak plainer.
"Well, ma'am, what do you say to it? Can you spare me

for an hour or two? Shall I go?"
"Do just as you please, my dear," replied Mrs. Allen,

with the most placidindifference. Catherine took
the advice, and ran off to get ready. In a very few minutes

she reappeared, having scarcely allowed the two others time
enough to get through a few short sentences in her praise,

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 duty of friendship immediately

called her before she could get into the carriage,
"you have been at least three hours getting ready.

I was afraid you were ill. What a delightful ball we
had last night. I have a thousand things to say to you;

but make haste and get in, for I long to be off."
Catherine followed her orders and turned away,

but not too soon to hear her friend exclaim aloud to James,
"What a sweet girl she is! I quite dote on her."

"You will not be frightened, Miss Morland," said Thorpe,
as he handed her 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 rest for 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 too late to retreat, and she was too young to own

herself frightened; so, resigning herself to her fate,
and trusting to the animal's boasted knowledge of its owner,

she sat peaceably down, and saw Thorpe sit down by her.
Everything being then arranged, the servant who stood at the

horse's head was bid in an important voice "to let him go,"
and off they went in the quietest manner imaginable,

without a plunge or a caper, or anything like one.
Catherine, delighted at so happy an escape, spoke her

pleasure aloud with grateful surprise; and her companion
immediately made the matter perfectly simple by assuring

her that it was entirely owing to the peculiarly judicious
manner in which he had then held the reins, and the singular