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"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 an umbrella!"
"They are agreeable" target="_blank" title="a.令人不悦的">disagreeable things to carry. I would

much rather take a chair at any time."
"It was such a nice-looking morning! I felt

so convinced it would be dry!"
"Anybody would have thought so indeed. There will

be very few people in the pump-room, if it rains all
the morning. I hope Mr. Allen will put on his greatcoat

when he goes, but I dare say he will not, for he had rather
do anything in the world than walk out in a greatcoat;

I wonder he should dislike it, it must be so comfortable."
The rain continued--fast, though not heavy.

Catherine went every five minutes to the clock,
threatening on each return that, if it still kept on

raining another five minutes, she would give up the matter
as hopeless. The clock struck twelve, and it still rained.

"You will not be able to go, my dear."
"I do not quite despair yet. I shall not give

it up till a quarter after twelve. This is just
the time of day for it to clear up, and I do think it

looks a little lighter. There, it is twenty minutes
after twelve, and now I shall give it up entirely.

Oh! That we had such weather here as they had at Udolpho,
or at least in Tuscany and the south of France!--the

night that poor St. Aubin died!--such beautiful weather!"
At half past twelve, when Catherine's anxious attention

to the weather was over and she could no longer claim
any merit from its amendment, the sky began voluntarily

to clear. A gleam of sunshine took her quite by surprise;
she looked round; the clouds were parting, and she instantly

returned 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 it would 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 the pump-room; he accordingly set off by himself,
and Catherine had barely watched him down the street

when her notice was claimed by the approach of the same
two open carriages, containing the same three people

that had surprised her so much a few mornings back.
"Isabella, my brother, and Mr. Thorpe, I declare!

They are coming for me perhaps--but I shall not go--I
cannot go indeed, for you know Miss Tilney may still call."

Mrs. Allen agreed to it. John Thorpe was soon with them,
and his voice was with them yet sooner, for on the

stairs he was 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 no time 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 with you 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 give their assistance. "My sweetest Catherine, is not

this delightful? We shall have a most heavenly drive.
You are to thank your brother and me for the scheme;

it darted into our heads at breakfast-time, I verily
believe at the same instant; and we should have been off

two hours ago if 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 such ecstasies at the
thoughts of a little country air and quiet! So much better

than going to the Lower Rooms. We shall drive directly
to Clifton and 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 times more. Kingsweston! Aye,

and Blaize Castle too, and anything else we can hear 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 to see."
"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's smile--"I expect Miss Tilney

and her brother to call on me to take a country 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, I saw 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 danced with last night, are not you?"
"Yes.

"Well, I saw him at that moment
turn up the Lansdown Road, driving a smart-looking girl."

"Did you indeed?"
"Did upon my soul; knew him again directly, and he

seemed to have got some very pretty cattle too."
"It is very odd! But I suppose they thought it would

be too dirty for a walk."
"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 the whole winter;

it is ankle-deep everywhere."
Isabella corroborated it: "My dearest Catherine,

you cannot form an idea of 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 go up 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 Tilney hallooing to a man who was just passing

by on horseback, that they were going 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 you go."

And in two minutes they were off.
Catherine's feelings, as she got into the carriage,

were in a very unsettled state; divided between regret
for the loss of one great pleasure, and the hope of soon

enjoying another, almost its equal in degree, however unlike
in kind. She could not think the Tilneys had acted quite

well by her, in so readily giving up their engagement,
without sending her any message of excuse. It was now

but an hour later than the time fixed on for the beginning
of their walk; and, in spite of what she had heard of the

prodigious accumulation of dirt in the course of that hour,
she could not from her own observation help thinking

that they might have gone with very little inconvenience.
To feel herself slighted by them was very painful.

On the other hand, the delight of exploring an edifice
like Udolpho, as her fancy represented Blaize Castle to be,

was such a counterpoise of good as might console her for
almost anything.

They passed briskly down Pulteney Street, and through
Laura Place, without the exchange of many words.

Thorpe talked to his horse, and she meditated, by turns,
on broken promises and broken arches, phaetons and

false hangings, Tilneys and trap-doors. As they entered
Argyle Buildings, 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; it is indeed. How could you tell me
they were gone? Stop, stop, I will get 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 had soon ceased to look after her, were in a moment
out of sight round the corner of Laura Place, and in another

moment she was herself whisked into the marketplace.
Still, however, and during the length of another street,

she entreated him to stop. "Pray, pray stop, Mr. Thorpe.
I cannot 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 odd noises, and drove on;

and Catherine, angry and vexed as she was, having no
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 Lansdown Road? I
would not have had it happen so for the world. They must

think it 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, nor in 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 a phaeton?" Thorpe defended himself very stoutly,

declared he had never seen two men so much alike in his life,
and would hardly give up the point of its having been

Tilney himself.
Their drive, even when this subject was over, was not

likely to be very agreeable. Catherine's complaisance
was no longer what it had been in their former airing.

She listened reluctantly, and her replies were short.
Blaize Castle remained her only comfort; towards that,

she still looked at intervals with pleasure; though rather
than be disappointed of the promised walk, and especially

rather than be thought ill of by the Tilneys, she would
willingly have given up all the happiness which its walls

could supply--the happiness of a progress through a long
suite of lofty rooms, exhibiting the remains of magnificent

furniture, though now for many years deserted--the happiness
of being stopped in their way along narrow, winding vaults,



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